Amy Orr-Ewing’s Forgiveness offers a thoughtful Christian exploration of forgiveness in an age shaped by outrage, fear, and polarisation. While some parts of the book didn’t fully resonate with me, other sections offered deep and meaningful reflections, resulting in an overall three-star experience.

The first quarter of the book and parts of the concluding section were less engaging for me personally. However, the theological core contains insights that gave me new ways of thinking about forgiveness—especially the idea that God’s judgment provides a bigger perspective on letting go of vengeance. The conviction that no sin, however outrageous, escapes God’s justice reassures the wounded that releasing anger doesn’t mean injustice disappears. That idea felt both powerful and grounding.

One of the most helpful aspects was the discussion of the four views of forgiveness. I had not previously been familiar with these distinctions, and found them both informative and worth exploring further. Orr-Ewing also defines forgiveness clearly: it means acknowledging that a real wrong has occurred and choosing not to pursue repayment or revenge. Forgiveness does not erase the harm or its consequences; it simply surrenders the right to vengeance to God, a distinction that feels biblically serious and emotionally honest.

The communal dimension of forgiveness also resonated. As the Anglican confession notes—“forgive what we have been, help us to amend what we are, and direct what we shall be”—forgiveness is both mercy and transformation. In communities, it enables relationships to endure and grow. With true repentance, forgiveness can deepen empathy, resilience, and maturity.

I also appreciated Desmond Tutu’s insight: “Forgiving is not forgetting; it’s actually remembering—and not using your right to hit back.” This idea—that forgiveness remembers but chooses not to retaliate—strikes a mature and realistic tone. Memory becomes wisdom rather than a weapon. One of the book’s strongest points is how forgiveness can preserve dignity, resist humiliation, and challenge unfair power dynamics, showing that choosing to forgive is often an act of courage rather than weakness. I’m particularly interested in exploring this further, especially the concept of “turning the other cheek,” which I haven’t studied in depth yet.

Where I struggled was with the section on self-compassion and self-forgiveness. While many Christians affirm these ideas, I found them less persuasive. For me, the book’s strongest contributions lie in its emphasis on divine justice, human dignity, repentance, and surrendering vengeance to God.

While not every section resonated, the book offers meaningful reflections worth engaging—especially for readers seeking a deeper theological understanding of forgiveness in a culture that often confuses it with weakness.