“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30; NIV)

It has been more than a week since Dylann Roof walked into the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in beautiful Charleston, S.C.

It has been more than a week since Dylann Roof walked into that church and brutally shot and killed nine people, who were doing nothing more than attending a Wednesday night Bible study.

During this past week, there have been tears of sadness, tears of anger and a political and social discussion that only a horrible tragedy like this can ignite.

During this past week, we have discussed civil rights, gun rights and even the color and design of flags, but through all of this debate, all of this noise, there is a calm and quiet voice that has sadly been drowned out.

That voice — that soothing yet hard to hear voice — is forgiveness.

As the national chatter has waged a discussion on why such an act could happen, and rushing to find reasons — or blame — for such action, the families of those killed in this gorgeous church have not joined in.

Rather, as they have laid their loved ones to rest, they have repeatedly said they forgive Dylann. As they mourn the horrific murders of their family members, their church brothers and sisters, they have offered forgiveness.

Could you have done the same? It is a question too difficult to imagine being asked, much less having to find an answer.

This shooting, this violent action, rattled an entire nation. Even locally, residents — black and white from different denominations — came together Wednesday at Bethel AME Church to pray for those murdered, to pray for the Charleston community, to pray for the country and to pray for Dylann.

“We cannot make sense of the tragedy that happened at Mother Emmanuel,” the Rev. Beverly Baskins of St. James and Travis Chapel AME churches said. “We do not really know the magnitude of hurt and despair those families in Charleston are feeling but we know God is in the blessing business.”

In the end, forgiveness is the voice that will not yell and will always struggle to be heard because it is so difficult to do and to sometimes understand.

As Lewis B. Smedes, a Christian author and ethicist once wrote, “to forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.”