Forgiveness. (Part One)

I have been wanting to blog SO badly, but my schedule this summer just doesn't comply with that part of my life.

So, needless to say, I have a million things I want to write about...but the most pressing one on my mind right now has to do with a book I'm currently reading.

It's called "What's So Amazing About Grace?" by Philip Yancey. And at the risk of sounding dramatic, this book is completely transforming the way I look at forgiveness and grace. I knew grace was very important, even central, to my faith...but Yancey describes it in such black and white terminology that I can't help but see all of the glaring inconsistencies within my portrayal of grace to others around me.

I'm hoping to do several blog posts on this subject, so this first one will focus on the concept of forgiveness.

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"To bless the people who have oppressed our spirits, emotionally deprived us, or in other ways handicapped us, is the most extraordinary work any of us will ever do." -Elizabeth O 'Connor 

I think most Christians know the phrase "God will judge everything...one day everyone will face consequences for their sins and their actions against you." Yeah, ok, that's really comforting when the people who have hurt you are living their lives just fine, happy and content and as if nothing ever happened.

We crave justice. But that craving is skewed from sin and as a result, we desire revenge and retribution in an ungodly way. But the thing about revenge is that it's never settled. It just bounces back and forth from side to side, building up more walls of resentment and, consequently, leaving more rubble of hurt and despair in its wake.

Ok, so we want justice, and we seek revenge. But how do we reconcile that desire with our commitment to following the Lord?

We can't.

And to make it even worse...if we continue to try, we'll be in a dangerous place with the One we desire to be with the most.

Charles Williams has said of the Lord's Prayer, "No word in the English carries a greater possibility of terror than the little word 'as' in that clause." What makes the "as" so terrifying? The fact that Jesus plainly links our forgiven-ness by the Father with our forgiving-ness of fellow human beings. Jesus' next remark could not be more explicit: "If you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."

Now THAT is a blow to our insatiable need for revenge. I think of all of the terribly, filthy, unspeakable acts I have committed against God...and I tremble with the knowledge of the punishment I deserve. I think of my sins, and I think of how Jesus has paid for all of them...and I realize that I am in no place to deny forgiveness. God has forgiven the worst of my sins. How can I refuse to do the same to another? Even Paul humbly admits, "Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners--of whom I am the worst."

Yancey says, "By denying forgiveness to others, we are in effect determining them unworthy of God's forgiveness, and thus so are we. In some mysterious way, divine forgiveness depends on us."

Whoa. I mean, really. Who am I to determine that another person doesn't deserve the grace of God in their life? I would never want to proclaim that judgment on someone. But I do just that, every time I hold a grudge or feel resentment towards another.

As Yancey points out, "Only the experience of being forgiven makes it possible for us to forgive."


 Alright. I'm forgiven. I fully and gratefully embrace that fact. So what now?

Now I have to take that undeserved grace that was poured out on my blackened and diseased soul...and I have to pour it out on the people in my life that have attacked, wounded and scarred me.

*sigh*

It's so hard. As Yancey points out:

"Forgiveness is an act of faith. By forgiving another, I am trusting that God is a better justice-maker than I am. By forgiving, I release my own right to get even and leave all issue of fairness for God to work out. I leave in God's hands the scales that must balance justice and mercy."

Lewis Smedes describes the process of forgiving someone, and the way he phrases the act resonates within me:

When you forgive someone, you slice away the wrong from the person who did it. You disengage that person from his hurtful act. You recreate him. At one moment you identify him ineradicably as the person who did you wrong. The next moment you change that identity. He is remade in your memory. You think of him now not as the person who hurt you, but a person who needs you. You feel him now not as the person who alienated you, but as the person who belongs to you. Once you branded him as a person powerful in evil, but now you see him as a person weak in his needs. You recreated your past by recreating the person whose wrong made your past painful."

Whew. Recreating your past is a terribly difficult task to accomplish. Memories remain, wounds try their best to remain fresh and bleeding. But when we truly forgive, when we finally decide to look at someone who has let us down and choose to see a new creature with obvious flaws but a redeemed soul...our past becomes a distant thought and the future spreads out in a beautiful tapestry of hope and new beginnings.

To close, I want to quote a passage from Henri Nouwen:

...God's forgiveness is unconditional; it comes from a heart that does not demand anything for itself, a heart that is completely empty of self-seeking. It is this divine forgiveness that I have to practice in my daily life. It calls me to keep stepping over all my arguments that say forgiveness is unwise, unhealthy, and impractical. It challenges me to step over all my needs for gratitude and compliments. Finally, it demands of me that I step over that wounded part of my heart that feels hurt and wronged and that wants to stay in control and put a few conditions between me and the one whom I am asked to forgive."