Frustrating Forgiveness

Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! The open tomb is God's promise that Jesus' work of redemption has been accepted. The Savior's open tomb tells us that with our sins forgiven, we are free to forgive those who sin against us.

Forgiveness. I'm all for it, especially when it comes to other people. I think that other people ought to forgive. Indeed, I encourage them to forgive. It's just that, when it comes to me forgiving somebody else, I'm just not that enthusiastic about the idea. Forgiveness can be frustrating. Now, I wouldn't make that confession to you if I thought I was all alone in my feelings. I'm not. Not so long ago I heard the story of a little boy who had a fight with his older brother. The feud between the two lasted the entire day. Neither would speak; neither would make amends.

When bedtime came, mother went to the younger boy and said, "Don't you think you should forgive your brother before you go to sleep? Remember, the Bible says that we shouldn't let the sun go down while we're still angry." (Ephesians 4:26) The mother smiled as she saw her boy's brow furrow as he considered her motherly wisdom. "Mama?" "Yes, honey?" "I was wondering." "And what were you wondering?" "I was wondering how I can keep the sun from going down." That's a boy I can understand. His righteous anger is a treasure that he is not prepared to give up so easily. He is not ready to pretend that the argument was nothing. He knows... forgiveness can be frustrating.

Forgiveness can be frustrating. That's what another mother found out when she heard her seven-year-old son holler. She ran into his bedroom and found the boy yelling because his three-year-old sister had grabbed, and had a death grip on some of his hair. Ever so gently the mother pried the little girl's fingers lose and released the boy. Seeing his fury, the mother tried to calm him down: "Now, now, you'll just have to forgive her. She didn't know what she was doing. She doesn't understand that it hurts when somebody pulls your hair." The boy nodded his understanding. Mom didn't get too far down the hallway before she heard her daughter scream. Rushing back, she was met by her son who was leaving the bedroom. "Well, mom, she understands now that it hurts when your hair is pulled."

I can understand that boy, too. The brother wanted to hurt his sister as much as his sister had hurt him. Do you see what I mean? Forgiveness can be frustrating. Is it possible that you've found difficulty in forgiving somebody... maybe even somebody who's close to you? Let me ask, has there ever been a time when you felt revenge was the only way you could resolve a problem? Do you get historical when you argue with somebody... I mean do you dredge up past problems, and dig up ancient arguments? Have you ever thought, "Boy, if they ever have a problem and need my help, they're going to have a mighty long wait, cause I'm not a-goin'?" Have you waited patiently for someone who has offended you to get some common sense and come to you with an apology? They need to come to you, don't they, because the truth is, you... are... never... going... to...go... to them. If you've answered "Yes" to any of those questions, you might join me in thinking that forgiveness can be frustrating.

Now, you should know that we're not alone in having, holding, and harboring these feelings. Jesus' disciple Peter also had these feelings. In the 18th chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, right around the 21st verse, it tells of how Peter came to Jesus and asked, "Lord, I've been wondering, just how many times do I have to forgive my brother when he sins against me? As many as seven times?" Because of Jesus' well-known, and often quoted answer, of forgiving 70 times seven, we're often ready to think Peter a very unforgiving fellow.

Remember what I said before about forgiveness is a good idea, everybody should forgive... except me. Well, that probably holds true for Peter, as well. I mean, think about it. The Biblical interpreters of Peter's day said that you should forgive somebody three times. Those scholars knew forgiveness can be frustrating. That's why they said three times and then, "bam" you were free to get revenge; three sins and "bam," you had every right to get even; three times and "bam," you could write off the person who had done the sinning.

Now before you come down too hard on those scholars, I want you to consider what they were saying. Suppose your next door neighbor asks to borrow your car. "Mine's in the shop," he explains, "and I simply have to do some errands." Now if this guy is a safe driver and he's been a good neighbor, you might throw him the keys and say, "Enjoy yourself. Put a few bucks of gas in before you bring it back." Well, he runs his errands, brings back the keys, and everything is OK. Everything is OK until the next day you start your car and find the fuel needle is hovering on the empty mark. "All right," you think to yourself as you stand by the gas pump, filling up your vehicle to the tune of $2.17 per gallon. "He's a good neighbor and he probably just forgot." You forgive him.

Now, suppose three days later he comes and asks to borrow your car again. His is still in the shop. What will you do? Well, he is a good guy, and mistakes happen, and you don't want to cause problems, so you give him your keys. But you do so with a fairly stern, "Hey, this time, could you be sure to put in a few bucks of gas?" "No problem," he says. And you know it won't be a problem, until the next day when you back your vehicle out of the drive and hear the ding, ding, ding that warns you that you might have enough gas to get you to the service station. What are your thoughts as the pump counts up the dollars to fill up your vehicle. Might it not be, "This won't happen to me again. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me."

But... four days later the neighbor is there. "I have to get here and here and here," he says. "My job depends on it. Please, help me." What will you do? Will you forgive? Will you say, "No problem"? Will you say, "He's a good neighbor, he's just lousy at filling up the tank?" Would you keep on forgiving him?

Well, when Peter asked Jesus, "How many times do I have to forgive?" He went far beyond the three times that the wise men of Israel suggested. Peter said to himself, "I know forgiving three times isn't the answer... and I know four times, maybe five times isn't what Jesus might expect. Six times seems stretching things a little bit... still, I'm talking to Jesus, so I'll make it seven times. Nobody should have to forgive somebody else more than seven times." So Peter asks... and gets a surprise answer from Jesus. "No," Jesus replies, "you don't have to forgive seven times..." (Peter would have breathed a sigh of relief.) "No, not seven times," Jesus continued, '"but 70 times seven." 490 times; 490 acts of forgiveness.

Unbelievable! What would you do? The worst part was Peter knew, as you should know, that Jesus didn't mean that when you finally, with considerable frustration, counted up to 491 you could get back at the person who had sinned against you. You shouldn't think to yourself, "I've forgiven him 486 times, I think it's time to plot my revenge. 487, boy you are getting close. 488, this is gonna make me feel so good. 489, go ahead, sin against me one more time please, please, and then, 'bam,' you are dead meat." No, Jesus didn't mean count to 490 and then get even. Jesus meant we should keep on forgiving and forgiving and forgiving and... Well, you get His drift. Forgiveness can be so very, very frustrating.

Now, I imagine Peter probably felt frustrated, too. You know his wasn't the kind of question he would ask out of the blue. Peter's brother Andrew was among the disciples. Maybe Peter was counting Andrew's sins. Maybe he was angry at Judas, or Matthew, or one of the others. Maybe he was frustrated with his mother-in-law. I don't know the cause of Peter's anger, but I don't think he was asking a theoretical question. Peter wanted to know just when it was that he could get even. He wondered, and Jesus told him, "Well, really, never." Forgiveness can be frustrating, especially when it comes to those who are closest to us. They are the ones who most easily get under our skin; the ones who do all those antagonizing little sins. They're the ones upon whom we want to take our revenge and get our satisfaction. In the 1800s, the philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer said, "We humans are like a bunch of porcupines who, on a cold winter's night, decide to huddle together for warmth. But there is a problem: the cold drives us closer, while at the same time our quills push us apart. "

Still, Jesus commands His people to forgive. And, from this passage, and others like it, we can discover that Jesus wasn't making a general kind of gentle suggestion, a theoretical proposal. Forgiveness, to Jesus, isn't optional. Forgiveness isn't something that we can offer when it suits us or when it concerns matters inconsequential. Forgiveness isn't something we do after the other person has apologized. Forgiveness is something God's people do. Jesus said it, "... If you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." Having God not forgive us, that's a pretty frightening thought. Forgiveness may be frustrating, but it's something the Savior expects His people to do.

Now, before I go any farther, I probably should tell you what Jesus is not saying when He tells us to forgive. When Jesus tells us to forgive, that doesn't mean that we won't be wounded by the things other people do to us. Forgiving according to Christ's command doesn't imply that we have been given a spiritual and emotional anesthetic. Forgiveness doesn't mean that we must develop the hide of a rhinoceros with people's misdeeds ineffectually bouncing off of our thick skins. Christian forgiveness doesn't mean that we have to put ourselves into a position where that person can commit the same sin against us again and again.

So what is Christian forgiveness? It is something Christians consciously choose to do that means they will not let any evil that has been done to them change them, or color them, or control them. Forgiveness is the erasing of a debt. Forgiveness is the building of a bridge of reconciliation. Forgiveness is something Christians do for others, because it is what Jesus did, albeit on a far grander scale, to them. It is a great mistake to believe that forgiveness originates with Christians because they are special people, or because they are extraordinarily kind, noble, gentle, or caring. They aren't, at least not originally. No, forgiveness finds its source, its strength, its sustenance in the Savior, who, while we were yet sinners, came into this world to redeem us, to buy us back from sin, death, the devil, and ourselves.

Do you want to learn how to forgive? Then look at the life of Jesus. He was born into a world that did not want Him. A stable heard His first baby's cry because no one would offer His parents lodging. His king, in a jealous rage, tried to have him murdered, but only succeeded in killing other innocents. The town in which He grew up tried to murder Him; another that He visited asked Him to move on down the road. The religious leaders of His people plotted to take His life; His own disciples deserted Him; one denied Him; another betrayed Him for the price of a cheap slave. At one of His trials, men were brought in to lie about Him and others got glee from beating and spitting upon Him. When He appeared in front of His own country's monarch, all the ruler could do was ask Him to perform some miraculous or amusing tricks. Although His Roman judge knew Him to be innocent, he turned his back on justice and allowed Jesus to be condemned and crucified.

Jesus' life from beginning to end was filled with frustration, aggravation, provocation, irritation, and rejection. He never escaped people's abuse, misuse, mistreatment, and misunderstanding. Yet Jesus, who always was about the Father's business of saving us, never sought revenge or retribution. He never turned in His two-week notice; He never called down fire and brimstone upon those who rejected Him; He never turned those who refused to follow Him into pillars of salt. He called for no flood to sweep unbelievers away; nor did He ask the earth to open and swallow up His opponents and detractors. He did not strike them dumb, blind, or curse them with leprosy.

No, Jesus did none of those things. On the contrary, when a rich young man said that he had kept the commandments, Jesus did not strike him down for his boastful heart. No, Scripture says "[Jesus] loved that man." When the crowd left Him, Jesus did not curse them. When He entered the city of Jerusalem, which less than a week later would see His death, He cried over her. He did not turn His back upon the leper, the lame, or those who were demon- possessed. He did not write off the rejects of society, the friendless, homeless, the depressed, despondent, or diseased. On the contrary, along with healing their bodies, many times He healed their souls by forgiving them of their sins.

If you wish to see forgiveness, look to the cross of Christ. There you will see forgiveness in its purest form. Even as the Savior hung upon the cross; even as every one of the world's sins; your sins, my sins, everybody's sins, rested upon Him; even as men gambled for His clothing and laughed at His pain; He called out: "Father, forgive them for they don't know what they are doing."

Forgiveness? Look into your own heart, at your own conscience and know that the worst sins you find there are, because of Jesus' suffering, death, and resurrection, gone. Forgiveness? Look to the cross where died all our dark and devious deeds, all our foul and filthy feelings. Look to the cross where your forgiveness was won; look into the Savior's empty, open tomb and see His victory. Because of Jesus, the Father, rather than cursing and condemning us redeems and restores us.

The great reformer, Martin Luther, once spoke of a night during which his sleep had been disturbed by a dream. In that dream he watched as an angel began to record all of his sins. The list seemed endless, and despair swept over the dreamer as he concluded a just God could never forgive so many errors of thought and deed. Then, when the dream became darkest, another hand came, the Savior's wounded hand. That hand, too, began to write. It put down, "The blood of Jesus Christ God's Son cleanses us from all sin." As Luther watched, blood flowed from that pierced hand; it flowed down and washed away the record of all he had done wrong. Forgiveness for our mountain of mistakes, sins, and shortcomings is the great gift Jesus gives. Scripture says it, "The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanses us from all sin."

It was a good many years ago that a lady became a Christian. She was so blessed by the forgiveness Jesus had given that she could hardly stop talking about it. It was wonderful to see... most of the time. I even remember her saying, "I'm so glad I'm forgiven. I have an aunt I used to hate so much I promised that when she died, I'd never go to her funeral. But now that I've been forgiven, well, I'd be happy to go to her funeral any time." Well, she has the idea, I suppose. Forgiving can be frustrating, but with Jesus, it becomes a necessary and wonderful reality. Amen.