My Dearest Sister,
It’s happened again, hasn’t it? A particular person in your life has sinned against you – and it’s definitely not the first time. You try to fight the desire for vindication rising up in you, but in the end you just can’t ignore its stubborn little voice: “You’ve already dealt with this before, too many times. You always forgive [insert name here], but this just keeps happening. Really, what’s the point anymore?” And then you cross your arms, stick your chin out and say “Not anymore!”. Sadly, sister, this is something that I can relate with all too well. I have been told on more than one occasion that I have a “tender heart” (translation: “breaks easily”). When someone offends me, I usually have a hard time letting it go. Let’s face it: Forgiveness isn’t something that comes naturally to anyone. When someone hurts us, we want them to get what they deserve, don’t we? If only they could feel a little bit of the pain they’ve cause us, then maybe they would learn their lesson; Maybe then they would understand.
However, when Peter asked the Lord how many times we should forgive a brother who sins against us, Jesus replied, “Up to seventy times seven.” That’s 490 times! I certainly hope that you never have to forgive somebody on that many separate occasions, but Jesus gave us a big number to make the point that we are to forgive our brother or sister in Christ as many times as they sin against us; as many times as it takes. It was not until I was an adult that God really began teaching me this lesson. I remember thinking, “But Lord, this is the same sin that they committed just two days ago! How am I supposed to forgive them when I am still so hurt, when my heart is still raw?” And just as those words had formed in my mind, I heard the Lord’s voice in my heart: “But I have forgiven you unto everlasting life and my mercies are new each morning.” Whoa! Talk about humbling! I had never considered that what I was feeling must only be a tiny fraction of what God feels. We sin against Him daily, yet He is always there with open arms, just waiting to shower us with His limitless forgiveness. So how can I, as a forgiven sinner washed clean by the blood of Christ, be so stingy with my own forgiveness towards my brethren who have received the same absolution from sin that I have?
Jesus talks about this attitude of ours towards forgiveness in Matthew, Chapter 18 through the parable of the unforgiving servant. You remember the story: a king forgives a servant who owed him 10,000 talents (roughly 150,000 years worth of wages) and surprise – couldn’t pay his debts. Then this same man finds a fellow servant who owed him just 100 denari (about 100 days wages) and demands payment, refusing to hear the man’s pleas for mercy. The king then confronts the man whom he had first pardoned, saying “You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Should you not also have had compassion on your fellow servant, just as I had pity on you?” Then the king delivers the servant to the torturers until he can pay all that is owed. “So my heavenly Father will also do to you,” Jesus concludes, “if each of you, from his heart, does not forgive his brother his trespasses.”
Do you know those old iron ball and chains that prisoners in Saturday morning cartoons used to wear? Anywhere they went, they had to drag that heavy weight behind them. That’s what un-forgiveness is like. When you think about it, it’s pretty hard to do anything for Christ with a deadweight shackled to our ankles. Even in my youth, I have spent too many years dragging around that ball and chain. Not only does it make us weary and bitter, but it also separates us from open communion with God. Mark 11:25-26 tells us that if we “have anything against anyone, forgive him that your Father in heaven may also forgive your trespasses.” There is no way around it, my dear friend: We cannot stand before God with the prison weight of un-forgiveness strapped to us. And I ask you, what is more torturous to a Christian than being distant from the Lord? Whether it is their first or five-hundredth offense, we must be able to let the sins of others go and wipe the slate clean; Otherwise, it becomes our own personal burden to bear.
~Your Sister,
Lauren