Why Prince William should forgive Harry – even if they never reconcile

In the summer of 1993, aged 16, I sat in my church and watched my parents recommit their marriage to God. It was the day of their 22nd wedding anniversary and the ceremony marked the end of a protracted period of turmoil.

Three and a half years earlier, my dad - not yet a Christian - had abandoned us. A successful weightlifter, he had developed an addiction to steroids and cocaine and embarked on an adulterous affair. When he finally did a runner, it was with £35,000 cash, leaving us in the middle of a house move and in a sizeable amount of debt.

In between that and their eventual journey towards Jesus and miraculous marriage restoration was a whole world of pain. Dad’s drug addiction got deeper and he slowly disappeared into a violent underworld. He bounced between our home and that of his mistress with alarming regularity. Each time, my mum would take him back and try to patch things up before he left again, unable to stay clean, faithful or present to us.

I became a Christian shortly before my dad left for the first time. While I knew the Bible told me to forgive as I has been forgiven (Ephesians 4:32), in practice, I struggled to understand what that actually meant. I was often angry. When he turned up again after weeks of absence, I struggled to show him any Christian charity or parental respect. Most of the time, I didn’t want a relationship with him at all.

I was left feeling intensely guilty. Did this mean that I was failing to forgive – and therefore failing as a Christian?

What forgiveness really means

In her excellent book Forgiveness: Reclaiming its power in a culture of outrage and fear (Brazos Press), Dr Amy Orr-Ewing explains what happens when the powerful Christian concept of forgiveness is misunderstood, as I fear it was by teenage me, and has been by Rabbi Jonathan Romain this week.

Writing in The Daily Mail, Rabbi Jonathan reflected on Price Harry’s return to the UK and whether the Prince of Wales should attempt to restore the relationship with his younger sibling. “I do not advise Prince William to offer the hand of peace to his brother. Sometimes a wound is best left untouched,” concluded Romain, citing his own, ongoing fraternal estrangement.

Rabbi Romain has conflated forgiveness with reconciliation

The rabbi was keen to point out that his refusal to forgive his brother sat at odds with the advice he often extended to others as a minister of religion. He also quoted Christian scripture. “Doesn’t the New Testament tell him, as a future Supreme Governor of the Church of England, to turn the other cheek?” he asks rhetorically, before concluding, basically, that even if it does, maybe Wills shouldn’t.

This, explains Orr-Ewing, is a classic misunderstanding of that oft-referenced teaching in Matthew 5:39. Quoting New Testament scholar Walter Wink, she explains that in the ancient world, the left hand was only used for unclean tasks; the right for everything else – even striking another person. Jesus’ audience would have understood that a blow to the right cheek could only be delivered by a right backhand. And a backhanded slap was given to a subordinate or someone inferior. Therefore, inviting your assailant to take a swing at your left cheek too would mean forcing them to hit you with their open palm: a sign that you were their equal.

Suddenly, a verse often used to imply that forgiveness is just a form of weak submission becomes a muscular illustration of how it can correct power imbalances and restore dignity to those who have been wronged.

It is in this truth that forgiveness, when properly understood, holds most hope for those who have been deeply hurt by the actions of another. Including Rabbi Romain and our future king.

Reconciliation and repentance

Romain is right to acknowledge that some relationships cannot be fully restored. I was finally able to reconcile with my father largely because he eventually took full ownership of his mistakes. He admitted the hurt he had caused and apologised for it. And more than that, he proved to us over weeks and months that he had really changed. The Bible calls this repentance: turning from our sins and choosing to live differently.

Scripture says that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). We are forgiven by God before we acknowledge our wrongdoing. Yet our relationship with Him can only be fully reconciled when we accept His sacrifice, say sorry and commit to making amends.

In the same way, we can choose to “forgive those who sin against us” (Matthew 6:12), regardless of their response. If they refuse to apologise or change their behaviour, it might still be necessary to stay away from people who continually cause us harm and refuse to acknowledge it. But that doesn’t stop us forgiving.

In his advice to Prince William – and in reflecting on his own situation – I fear Rabbi Romain has fallen into a familiar trap. He has conflated forgiveness with reconciliation. And in justifying his own refusal to let go of grievance, he’s introduced something far more destructive.

A healthier hope

This is something that Romain freely admits is at the heart of his own, unreconciled relationship. Despite acknowledging that “it might be healthy to reconcile,” he ultimately concludes: “It is much cosier being wrapped in a blanket of anger and victimhood. It also saves me having to ask where I might have gone wrong.”

It seems a sadly unhopeful position for a faith leader to take. It isn’t easy to let go of bitterness and anger when you’ve been wronged by another, but even secular research shows that it has a measurable impact on anxiety and stress, improving optimism and helping people cope with adversity. It also impacts heart rate, blood pressure and your immune response. 

In short, forgiveness is good for us. And this is why my prayer for Prince William is that he doesn’t take the advice offered to him by Rabbi Romain to hold onto his hurt and refuse to hope for more.

Forgiveness, when properly understood, holds most hope for those who have been deeply hurt by the actions of another

That doesn’t mean he should blindly allow his sibling to waltz back into his life - after all, we’re talking about a man who chose to monetise his famous family issues in a tell-all memoir and scathing TV interviews; I’m not sure I would trust him after that.

But having wisdom over what level of reconciliation happens with his brother – which will also depend on what level of contrition Prince Harry shows for his actions - is not the same as holding onto bitterness or resentment that only makes you heart-sick. It’s not the same as deciding not to forgive or refusing to even entertain the idea of reconciliation because of pride, or a fear of making the first move.

When we’re faced with something painful, the gospel “doesn’t ask us to ignore the wrong or pretend it didn’t happen,” says Orr-Ewing. “Instead, it offers us something astonishing: the chance to be free…When we chose forgiveness, we’re not condoning harm, we are choosing freedom over bitterness.”

This is the true Christian hope that I pray William and Rabbi Romain will come to understand: forgiveness is hard. But because of what Jesus has done for us, we have the Holy Spirit, living inside us, helping us to extend to others what we have already been freely given. From there, anything is possible.