The love and forgiveness of God spilled into the here and now. It rippled across social media, and forced hardened cynics to reflect on what they just saw.
Brandt Jean watched the trial of Amber Guyger, his brother’s killer. Guyger, the Dallas police officer, went into Botham Jean’s apartment, thinking it was her own when it was actually his. She confronted Botham Jean and fatally shot him. A Dallas jury tried and convicted Guyger of murder.
During the sentencing phase of the trial, victims had the opportunity to describe, for the jury and judge, the crime’s fallout in their own lives. These impact statements are often cries for justice to fill the hole where a loved one used to reside. Botham’s brother, Brandt, used his precious seconds in an unexpected way. He forgave Amber Guyger. He urged her to give her life to Christ because that is what his brother Botham would want for her. He concluded with a request to the court to give Guyger a hug. The astonishing video is below.
This was divine. There is no other explanation for Brandt Jean’s behavior. Given the chance to cry for punishment, he chose instead love and forgiveness. No one would blame him for anger or rage. These would have been human responses to the grave evil he suffered. Brandt had every right to wish for Guyger’s ruin, which would be just. Brandt Jean revealed a heart and life transformed by God. These were not the ways of the flesh, but the ways of the spirit.
The response in the courtroom mirrored the supernatural act. As Brandt Jean asked to manifest his love of Guyger with a hug, whispers turned into tears, which gave way to sobs. The judge can be seen wiping her eyes. She later broke protocol herself and handed Guyger a Bible for the beginning of her spiritual journey.
It is obvious for those of us with eyes to see and ears to hear, but this is the model of Christ. This is the bestowal of grace on an undeserving wretch of a soul unable to save herself. This is the condescension from the heights of purity into the depths of Guyger’s despair. She looked lost and then, in a blink, she looked found. She held tightly to Brandt Jean who, at that moment, had given hands and feet to the gospel message he just shared.
The world is toxic. It is polarized. It is dark. It sometimes feels beyond hope. But this is illumination. This is the light of underserved love, which has the unique ability to pierce the blackness of our long, cynical night. This is the power of public witness. A moment. A request. A hug. Brandt Jean seized his chance to witness. He reflected God to Amber Guyger, the courtroom, and the world.
Jean’s actions should not fade into the ether, as moments of reflection do. They should challenge us to consider our own opportunities to show God’s love to others when they don’t deserve it. They should linger on the edge of our conscience, encouraging us to respond as Christ would, even when our humanity begs to be let off its leash. If we seek those to love, we will find them, and as we love them, we will show the world the way of Christ.