Forgiveness

“To err is human; to forgive, divine.”

—Alexander Pope in An Essay on Criticism

This says that human beings have a propensity for messing it up. That’s what we humans do. I think most of us would have to agree, at least to some degree or another, that this observation is very true. To err is human. But it also suggests that only God has the ability, by His very nature, to truly forgive—that forgiveness is such a high and lofty pursuit, that it can only be a divine prerogative. It draws such a sharp contrast between the human and the divine, as well it should.

Though that’s true, the line is blurred because of redemption. The redemptive process brings us into a place where we are “partakers of divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4), that God’s very nature is infused into our nature to the point where eventually it overwhelms our nature and we are “filled with all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:19). The whole redemption story is founded on God’s grace, accomplished by Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, and displayed as forgiveness to all those who call on His name. Forgiveness is a beautiful manifestation of grace. If God’s nature is to forgive, and that nature now abides in us, how can we not forgive those who wrong us?

As Christ was dying on the cross, He saw the angry faces, heard the accusing voices of a mocking, jeering crowd. He saw those who crucified Him, and asked His Father to forgive them.

In light of that, the Scripture says that we must “forgive one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Ephesians 4:32). This Scripture becomes both the motivation and challenge for us to forgive others. We as believers cannot live our lives with animosity, disdain, or hatred because of something someone did to hurt us. Our new nature, in Christ, requires more of us than that.

I see this on two levels. On the macro side, we are now operating out of a new nature, a God nature. That nature has both the ability and desire to forgive.

Looking at it from an individual level, it becomes much more difficult. Forgiveness, as a concept, is difficult because there are so many levels to consider, both the motivational side and the expectation side. But forgiveness, as an act, just may be one of the most difficult things that Jesus has called us to perform. There are times when we feel that we have a legitimate reason for our bitterness. And maybe you really were wronged. One of the most common reasons for not forgiving is, “But you don’t know what they did to me.” From what I see in Scripture, Jesus did not require forgiveness on a sliding scale.

True forgiveness has no hidden agendas, no required contingencies or addenda. It doesn’t include “ifs” or “buts.” It does not need fanfare or recognition. If any of those things accompany our effort, it ceases to be forgiveness at all. Forgiveness allows us, or maybe even requires us, to release the anger or bitterness that can control our lives because of this real or perceived wrong that someone used to hurt us. But it goes further than that, and can move us to even have compassion or care for that person. You take back control of your feelings and emotions instead of letting someone else pull the strings. How liberating is that?

It has been said, “You must forgive and forget.” Let’s revisit that for just a moment. Forgiving does not necessarily require forgetting, because, at some point, forgiveness preempts the memory of a wrong perpetrated against us. Not forgetting doesn’t mean we continue to dwell on it, or throw it back in the face of the one we have forgiven. We may remember it, but it can no longer impose its will; it no longer controls us—it just no longer matters.

When we live our lives in unforgiveness, we are giving over control of our lives to the one who wronged us long after they’ve moved on and forgotten about it. That’s a sad way to live life.

But when we lay it down, it gives God a channel through which to work and show grace and forgiveness. At that point, our life becomes fuller, richer, and more liberated.

You owe it to yourself to forgive.