“When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there. . . Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” — Luke 23:33-34 NIV
Did you ever notice?
Amid the extreme chaos of the most pivotal day in human history — the Son of God betrayed, mocked, misrepresented, beaten, surrendered in appeasement, and now suffering an excruciating death — Jesus interceded to His Father on behalf of His tormentors: “Father, forgive them.” But did you ever notice that they never asked? His enemies never asked Jesus for forgiveness, yet He pleaded it on their behalf anyway. How opposite our natural tendency to release a grudge only at the fickle price of a suitable apology.
We could say, “Well, Jesus is God; mere mortals are not built that way.” True, we are not; our self-will demands we live life on our terms and not God’s. But let us witness another execution, the stoning of Stephen. His capital crime? Declaring Jesus to be standing at the right hand of God. Listen to Luke’s historic account of this believer’s last words. “As they stoned him, Stephen prayed, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ He fell to his knees, shouting, ‘Lord, don’t charge them with this sin!’ And with that, he died.”1 Had his self-appointed executioners asked for forgiveness? No. But Stephen forgave them anyway and he petitioned Jesus to do the same. Instead of appealing for justice, he cried out for mercy.
How do we reach such a point where harbored animosity ebbs and the tide of charity floods its place? Consider Luke’s description of Stephen — “a man full of God’s grace and power.”2 Therein lies the spiritual means for the naturally impossible: As we realize the depth of our sin and the divine price at which it is expunged, we grow in our embrace of God’s grace. This grace overflows its human reservoirs, pouring over in its many forms to others. When the scorned woman anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her tears, for instance, Jesus said to her antagonists, “She was forgiven many, many sins, and so she is very, very grateful.”3 The grace of forgiveness liberates us this way.
Spend some time today considering and appreciating God’s undeserved, yet limitless favor toward you. In humility before Him, think also of those who need to experience your forgiveness, even if they haven’t asked for it. Then, in God’s grace and power, release them for good.
“Be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.” — Ephesians 4:32 NASB
Father, Your goodness and faithfulness toward me, a sinner, is humbling. Indwell me through Your Spirit of grace and power, that I would be a vessel of grace and forgiveness to others. In Christ I pray. Amen.
1 Acts 7:59-60 NLT, emphasis added
2 Acts 6:8 ESV, emphasis added
3 Luke 7:47 The Message
Tag: Forgiveness
The Silent Killer Within
Resentment kills a fool, and envy slays the simple. —Job 5:2
Saturday evening on a Kairos Prison Ministry weekend is a powerful time. That morning, all attendees—residents and volunteers—receive a slip of paper and are encouraged to write down the names of those we need to forgive. No one except the individual will ever see these names; this is a private encounter between self and God. As we gather in the chapel at day’s end, we drop our forgiveness lists into water and watch them instantly vanish, for the paper on which we write the names is dissolvable. The moment is externally symbolic and internally liberating, and the relief that follows forgiveness is palpable. Freedom feels good.
Does this mean old feelings of hurt and anger never fester and surface again? Not at all. As one who has had to forgive some knuckleheads over and over again, I can attest that old feelings return. In fact, though “resentment” has come to connote holding a grudge in anger or pain, the literal origin of the word is to “feel again.” How descriptive! And how diagnostic! Isn’t this what we do—feel the same anger, disappointment, or pain again and again, refusing to let it go? A friend recently learned that someone had been holding him in resentment for close to ten years, and my friend didn’t even know it until someone else told him! So who did resentment hurt for so long?
When our son was a boy, Peggy would occasionally teach him, “Emotions are good, but you cannot let them master you; we must learn to manage them.” This is a decision, as Paul likewise exhorts us, “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another . . .”1 But how can I relinquish my pain and release my grudge? Paul continues, “. . . as God in Christ forgave you.”2 Therein lies the key: we have sinned against God exponentially more than any one individual has ever offended us. Our sin against God is immeasurable, but others’ wrongs against us are finite. Then as God in Christ forgives us much, so we as people forgiven in Christ are free to forgive others for comparatively little. And in doing so, we overcome that silent “killer of fools”—resentment.3
And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.4 —Jesus, to His disciples
Father, thank You for forgiving me my trespasses. May I flourish in Your forgiveness to the point of overflowing it to those who have trespassed against me. In Christ I pray. Amen.
1 Ephesians 4:31-32 ESV
2 Ephesians 4:32 ESV
3 Job 5:2 ESV
4 Mark 11:25 NIV
The Price We Pay To Forgive
Saturday evening is a powerful time on a Kairos Prison Ministry Weekend. Our focus that day is on forgiveness, and inmates and Kairos volunteers are encouraged to make a list of wrongdoers we need to release from our resentment, hatred, anger or pain. No one sees anyone else’s list; this is a private matter. Then in a “forgiveness ceremony” at day’s end, each person drops his own list of names into a bowl of water and watches as the dissolvable paper immediately and completely disappears before them. It is a powerful moment of liberation, understanding, peace and hope.
In his excellent book The Prodigal God, author Tim Keller wrote, “forgiveness always comes at a cost to the one granting the forgiveness.”1 As I paused to ponder his statement, the steep cost of forgiving others became clearer. We forfeit our right against those who have wronged us, and we destroy the moral IOUs we’ve vindictively waved in their face or bitterly stored in our heart. This was a cost the unmerciful servant in Jesus’ parable was unwilling to pay, for though his master had forgiven him much, he was unwilling to extend the same mercy to a peer who owned him little. [Read Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 18:21-35.] In forgiving others, we relinquish any notion of moral superiority, remembering that we have offended God far more than any one person has ever offended us, and yet we are forgiven. And when we forgive our debtors, we surrender our pride and risk vulnerability before those who have exploited it in the past.
But aren’t these just costs of the flesh, where we would be king? Surrendering grudges, accusations, bitterness, pride, relational isolation—isn’t this really addition by subtraction? Aren’t we happier without them? Or conversely, isn’t it taxing, in a way, to lug around a burgeoning ledger of resentments? Wouldn’t we prefer the sins of others and our grudges against them to be “hurled . . . into the depths of the sea,”2 where they dissolve for good?
God the Father “has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”3 Soak this in; it is true. Then as a people forgiven and brought into God’s kingdom, may we freely forgive others at the cost of our own.
“Be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.”—Ephesians 4:32 NASB
Father, Your Son bore the ultimate price for our sin. Humble us in Your love, that we would at any cost forgive those who have trespassed against us. Grace us to live in the freedom of forgiveness. In Christ we pray. Amen.
1 Tim Keller , The Prodigal God, (Dutton: New York), 83.
2 Micah 7:19
3 Colossians 1:13-14