The Black Angel

Michael Christopher's play The Black Angel is about Herman Engel, a Nazi general guilty of despicable war crimes. At the Nuremberg trials he was sentenced to thirty years in prison.

When he got out he made a new beginning, building a cabin for himself and his wife in a remote part of France.

But there was a French journalist named Morrieaux, whose family had been massacred by Engel's troops. Morrieaux clung to 30 years of bitterness and was bent on revenge.

The journalist traced Engel to the French village, went into town, and stirred up hatred. The men agreed they'd go up that night and kill Engel and his wife, burning their cabin to the ground.

But that afternoon Morrieaux confronted Engel, interrogating him throughout the afternoon. As time wore on, Morriaux saw this tired, pathetic man's guilty and tortured soul. Revenge began to taste sour.

Finally Morrieaux said, "They're going to kill you tonight. Come with me now and I'll get you out.

Engel looked at him intently, "I will go with you on one condition."

"What condition?"

"That you forgive me."

"No," said Morrieaux. "I will save your life...but I cannot forgive you."

Engel refused to leave. That night his cabin burned to the ground. He and his wife were murdered.

What was this forgiving grace more important to Engel than life itself? And why could Morrieaux not find it in himself to grant it? Haunting questions.

The good news is that there's a God much bigger than Engel, a Saviour much bigger than Engel's sin. And there's a God much bigger than Morrieaux...much bigger than his inability to forgive.

From Randy Alcorn, The Grace and Truth Paradox