It’s odd that something as straightforward as forgiveness can actually be quite complicated. Saying the words “I forgive you” does not seem like a huge undertaken. But all of us know that there is much more to the process of forgiveness than just saying three little words.
There are lots of biblical examples of forgiveness, which I am happy to mention, but a caveat needs to be offered after I list some off. There is forgiveness shown by God toward Adam and Eve despite their disobedience in the Garden of Eden. There is the forgiveness exhibited by the Father who welcomes home the Prodigal Son with a loving embrace and celebratory party. There are the words of forgiveness spoken by Joseph to his brothers—the ones who sold him into slavery in Egypt—when he said to them, “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve our people.” There are the admonitions contained in the Lord’s Prayer and the verses in the Sermon on the Mount: “If you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.” And there is the powerful statement made by Christ from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”
The Bible seems quite clear about the importance of showing forgiveness. The caveat that needs to be mentioned, though, is that people commonly feel that the biblical imperative to forgive doesn’t precisely apply to their particular situation. They feel there are mitigating factors that push the clarity of scripture into murkier territory. For example, how are we to treat forgiveness if the other person does not repent of their actions or refuses to apologize? Are there some crimes so heinous that forgiveness is illogical, if not impossible? Must we forgive and forget, or does some of the pain we suffer necessarily linger long after we offer words of forgiveness?
Each of those questions merits a longer discussion. But I recently read an anecdote included in a play called “Fatherland” that brings this topic closer to real life. One man interviewed for the play told how he was once having a bad day and turned to his daughter and swore at her. She left and the man felt awful. At bedtime that night, he said to her “I shouldn’t have said those words to you; no adult should say that to you.” And the girl said, “I’ll tell you what, Dad, just this once, I’ll forgive you.”
Maybe the place to start with the topic of forgiveness is not wondering what is feels like for us to forgive, but to call to mind the times when someone has forgiven us. There is a power in hearing someone say to you (even with limitations such as “just this once”), “I’ll tell you what, I’ll forgive you.” There is a directness in the father-daughter conversation that models a faithful honesty on both sides and challenges us to be willing to “play this part” in the drama of our own lives—to apologize openly and to forgive graciously.
We have all been forgiven countless times, both by God and those around us. Letting that be our starting point will help us navigate our emotions and unsettledness when we are asked to forgive. Christ calls us to be people of mercy, grace and forgiveness, so whatever it takes, it is worth the effort.
—Randy Bush