The teaching gospels and the focus on forgiving others

I owe an explanation for the category "the teaching gospels." It's more common that we classify the four New Testament accounts of Jesus' life based on whether they are "synoptic" (giving a synopsis or summary of his life). In that classification Matthew, Mark, and Luke are categorized as synoptics, and the Gospel of John is the outlier here as the last-written, with more focus on details not recorded elsewhere. But in some cases I find the category "teaching gospels" more useful: it is the books of Matthew, Luke, and John that give more of Jesus' sayings and teachings, while here the Gospel of Mark is the outlier in being more focused on events, even when some events are included as the context for sayings. 

While all four canonical gospels give some focus to forgiveness, the teaching gospels each have a key teaching or a key event which challenges the reader to shift their ideas about forgiveness and righteousness. If anyone has clear ideas about right and wrong, it's easy -- almost natural -- to think that score-keeping is useful, helpful, or good. Each of the canonical gospels questions that assumption. 

Matthew's gospel records the parable of the unmerciful servant, in which the master forgives a servant the amount of an unpayable debt owed, but the servant then refuses to forgive a petty debt owed to him. In that parable, the servant's original debt is reinstated. Wouldn't the servant have done better to write off the petty debt? Did he think his own excuses were that special and unique compared to everyone else's, that he was somehow worthy of mercy instead of receiving it as a gift? 

Luke's gospel records the parable of the unjust steward (or shrewd manager, as it's sometimes called). Here the steward is commended for his shrewdness in writing off his master's debts because it opens doors for him. Jesus invites his hearers to consider how worldly people can be savvier than the children of the kingdom in that respect. 

John's gospel records an event where a woman was caught in the act of adultery, where the law was clear on the consequences, and certain people in the crowd wanted Jesus to own whatever happened next. Jesus invited the person who was without sin to throw the first stone. The crowd all eventually figured it out and left. Do we insist on being the ones waiting around with the rock, unwilling to drop it and walk away? Which sins tempt us to keep hold of that rock? 

In each case, the people holding onto the debt perceived themselves as right. In each gospel, Jesus challenges our ideas of whether refusing to forgive is actually standing up for what is right. To be fair to the Gospel of Mark, it does also repeat the part of the Lord's prayer that is more familiar from the gospels of Matthew and Luke: 

And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.” (Mark 11:25)

Jesus' teachings, recorded so consistently by different authors in different settings, can help me get the point. Even when we are right, even when the other person is wrong, even when they owe us something, we are not in a position to be keeping score.  

Prayer for our enemies

Some years ago I included a prayer for enemies as part of a longer liturgical service. I'd like to have a stand-alone version of that. It's currently formatted as if a responsive congregational prayer, but can work for private prayers as well. 

Prayer for our enemies

P: The Lord has also taught us to pray for our enemies. Being thankful for his forgiveness, let us pray: (Matt 5:44)

P: Lord, we praise you and give thanks to you, for you are good. (Ps 106:1)
C: Your mercy endures forever. (Ps 106:1)

P: While we were yet your enemies (Romans 5:8-10)
C: You died for us (Romans 5:8-10)

P: The righteous for the unrighteous (1 Peter 3:18)
C: To bring us back to you. (1 Peter 3:18)

P: Lord, have mercy on us. (Luke 18:3)
C: Have mercy on us sinners. (Luke 18:3)

P: Lord, if you kept record of our sins (Psalm 130:3)
C: Who could stand before you? (Psalm 130:3)

P: Do not bring your servant into judgment, (Ps 143:2)
C: For no one living is righteous before you. (Ps 143:2)

P: When I hid my faults (Psalm 32:3)
C: I wasted away. (Psalm 32:3)

P: When I confessed my transgression (Psalm 32:5)
C: You forgave the iniquity of my sin. (Psalm 32:5)

P: You oppose the proud (1 Peter 5:5)
C: But give grace to the humble. (1 Peter 5:5)

P. You, O Christ, came into the world to save sinners (1 Tim 1:15)
C: Of whom I am the chief. (1 Tim 1:15)

P: You have taught us to pray: Forgive us our sins (Matt 6:12)
C: As we forgive those who sin against us. (Matt 6:12)

P: Let mercy be the measure we use for others; (Matt 5:7, 7:2)
C: May their cups overflow with blessing. (Ps 23:5)

P: We remember before you all our enemies: (Matt 5:44)
C: May knowing you bring peace. (2 Peter 1:2)

P: We remember before you all who have wronged others. (Matt 5:44)
C: May your mercy turn hearts of stone to hearts of flesh. (Ezekiel 11:19)

P: We remember before you all who hide secret guilt: (Ps 19:12)
C: Create clean hearts, O Lord, and renew a right spirit. (Ps 51:10)

P: Let the sinners turn back to you: (Ps 51:13)
C: No one will be condemned who takes refuge in you. (Ps 34:22)

P: Let us proclaim your righteousness in the great assembly (Ps 40:9)
C: Let us not seal our lips or hide your righteousness (Ps 40:9-10)

P: Let us speak of your faithfulness and salvation (Ps 40:10)
C: Let us not conceal your love and your truth. (Ps 40:10)

P: Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven. (Psalm 32:1)
C: Whose sin is covered (Psalm 32:1)

P: Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; (Psalm 106:1)
C: His mercy endures forever. (Psalm 106:1)

The parable of the shrewd manager, and the license to forgive

Jesus spoke many parables which people praise, from the prodigal son and the lost sheep to baking bread and planting fields. And then there is the parable of the shrewd manager (Luke 16:1-9). Godly commentators may hesitate over the parable of the shrewd manager because the hero is something of a crook. When the manager in the parable finds out he is about to be fired, he calls in his master's debtors and forgives parts of their debts at the master's expense, making friends for himself along the way to secure his own future. 

What makes the man's actions dishonest? He's not authorized to forgive those debts. The master was counting on collecting those debts. 

I suspect that part of Jesus' point for us is that we are authorized to forgive those debts. The master is hoping to forgive the debts rather than collect on them. So why is it we're not out forgiving them? Why is it we're so determined to collect, rather than forgive? 

I expect there is more to be learned from the parable, and that commentators have covered those things. But it's not a bad thing to remember when we read that parable: the master wants those debts forgiven, and we're authorized to forgive them. We might gain friends for God, and secure their futures. 

Update 30 Aug 2026: 

In the parable, the manager is supposed to be collecting debts for his master but forgives them -- taking them off the books, against his master's wishes. In real life, we're supposed to be forgiving debts for our master but insist on keeping those debts on the books, against our master's wishes. So if we are worried that we'll fall out of God's favor and get fired (like the manager in the parable), this could be an encouragement to go on a forgiveness spree. And that would also be in keeping with the rest of Jesus' teachings. 

What would it take for me to forgive?

"What would it take for me to forgive someone who wrongs me?" is something I've considered at times. For Christians, who see forgiveness as a good thing, forgiveness is still a common struggle. It might be easier if another person showed regret for harming me or treating me unfairly. It would help if such a person apologized. It would be fantastic if someone offered to make up for some of the wrongs they had done. 

Or what if they did none of those things and left the harm exactly as-is, unacknowledged, unapologized, unamended? 

"In this is love: not that we have loved God but that He loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another." (1 John  4:10-11)

For God, the question was not what hoops must the sinner go through before He retires the grudge. He was not expecting us to repay him. He did not demand our humility. He did not approach reconciliation by hoping for something from us. His thoughts are so far opposite ours that He did not demand what we must do, but offered what He could do, even though the fault was ours. He was willing to cover the cost himself as he rebuilt the relationship before we agreed to do the same. 

The point here is not to try to lecture myself into forgiveness, but to recognize how differently God approaches forgiveness. I hope to allow myself first of all to be grateful for it. I hope that recognition moves me to see the world more as He does. As far as whether I am called to be first to put down the grudge: of course I am, and especially with those who do not know Christ. 

Long-time married folks' best advice on staying married

It is rare that I take inspiration from the comment section of another conversation. But I think the content here merits it. This post asked the long-married couples for the best advice on staying married. 

The comment thread was lively, so I enlisted a bot to help summarize, which it did based on the most frequently echoed and highly engaged pieces of advice among the responses. 

Top 10 Pieces of Advice from the Comments

1. Put God (or faith) at the center of your marriage. 
   This topped the list and dominated replies, often cited as the unbreakable foundation.
   "A cord of three strands is not easily broken - Ecc.4:12."
   
   
2. Never go to bed angry—resolve conflicts before sleep
   A near-universal tip, emphasizing daily emotional resets to prevent resentment buildup.
   
   
3. Forgive quickly and let go of grudges
   Quick forgiveness was hailed as essential for longevity, avoiding the poison of prolonged hurt.
   
   
4. Prioritize regular date nights and intentional time together
   Couples stressed keeping romance alive through consistent effort, no matter the life stage.
   
   
5. Remove divorce as an option—commit fully from day one
   Blunt and recurring: Treat "divorce" as a forbidden word to weather storms.
   
   
6. Prioritize your spouse above all others (except God)
   Family, kids, or parents come second—your marriage is the core unit.
   Example comment: "Never put any human before your spouse. Not parents, siblings or even children. Only God comes before your spouse."
   
   
7. Choose a partner who makes you laugh
   Humor as a buffer for hardships; select for joy, not just compatibility checklists.
   
   
8. Love sacrificially, like Christ loves the Church
   Selfless, unconditional love—putting your partner's needs first consistently.
   
   
9. Address your own selfishness as the real issue
   Shift focus inward: Marriage problems often stem from personal flaws, not just the other's.
   Example comment: "Treat your own selfishness as the main problem in the marriage," quoting Timothy Keller
   
   
10. Avoid infidelity at all costs (including family temptations)
    Practical warnings against betrayal, often with humor but deadly serious undertones.

With our words we will be acquitted

There are times when Jesus was clearly using figures of speech, and others when I expect it's wisest to take him very literally. One situation where I take him entirely literally is in his cautions against dealing harshly with each other: 

By your words you shall be acquitted, and by your words you shall be condemned. - Jesus (Matthew 12:37)

I want my conversations to have words that I might be glad to hear said back to me on the Last Day. With that in mind, here are some Bible verses that speak to the topic of forgiveness. The first 3 are verses that are suitable for quoting either as as-is or with slight modifications for the situation. The fourth verse records accusers leaving in silence, where below I give voice to some words that might be fitting instead of an accusation. 

• "Forgive them. They didn't know what they were doing." (Luke 23:34)
• "Do not be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You planned evil against me, but God meant it for good." (Genesis 50:19-20)
• "I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more." (Jeremiah 31:34)
• My own conscience isn't clear. How can I condemn you? (suitable words based on John 8:9)

Related: a prior post on the topic. Even after 2 posts, my thoughts are not as well-developed as I'd like. I'd rather be fluent in forgiveness. Here I struggle, yet I hope for God to forgive me. 

Forgiveness and Restored Fellowship

Lately I have heard more than one person proudly announce forgiveness by saying something along these lines: "I'll forgive so that I am not burdened," without any plans to reconcile. They may also mention that harboring a grudge is like drinking a poison and hoping the other person dies, and so they stop drinking the poison. (From the tone of voice, they may still wish the other person dies.) 

And yet forgiveness, as we know it from God, is a forgiveness that does not write off the relationship. God's forgiveness always hoped we would not die ("takes no pleasure in the death of the sinner"). God's forgiveness is not for personal peace-of-mind, to get away from the uncomfortable feeling of being mindful of a wrong toward him. God's forgiveness is not a detachment but a reconciliation. So forgiveness from God is not merely the end of resentment, but the renewal of the relationship. 

Of course it takes two to reconcile. That said: a mere detachment cannot lead to reconciliation; it never sought it in the first place. In that way, detachment can resemble condemnation more than it resembles forgiveness in the Christian sense. 

With detachment alone, the natural outcome is that people become more and more disconnected, more isolated. To build fellowship and community, it's necessary to reconnect. It's harder work, but it is how God forgives us. 

Forgiveness versus Excuses

I've begun to think we may not always "forgive" when we think we have forgiven someone. Speaking for myself, I'm more likely to have excused them -- that is, I have found an excuse that I found acceptable and so what was done was not really wrong, all things considered. Or I've evaluated a hurt as too small to worry about, and given it a pass. "It's not wrong enough to worry about." And it may be true, but it's also not forgiveness. 

When I'm the one in the wrong, my first try is usually for a pass (not wrong enough to worry about) or an excuse (there was a good enough reason or a greater good, so not really wrong). It's when there is no excuse that I need to squarely face the idea of forgiveness. The distinction is important because if all my thoughts of forgiveness are tangled in with thoughts of "accepting an excuse", then any talk of forgiveness can seem like excusing the inexcusable.  If my thoughts of forgiveness are tangled in with thoughts of "give it a pass" then any talk of forgiveness seems like claiming the problem isn't worth worrying about. And so forgiveness itself can look offensive or immoral, if it's considered to be no different than giving a pass or making excuses. 

Forgiveness -- as opposed to accepting excuses -- only comes into the picture when there is no way to give something a pass, no excuse that can be accepted. Forgiveness comes into the picture when there are human beings in that situation, who have done things that cannot be excused. Forgiveness comes into the picture when I realize I am one of those people too. When I sing "Amazing Grace" I sing it for me. I have real faults, not just resume faults. 

With that in mind, if someone is trying for redemption, let me not be the undertow dragging them back. If someone has gotten to the point of acknowledging they do not deserve a pass, and they do not have an excuse, then there might be redemption. 

"Remission" of sins: layers of meaning, layers of hope

Languages are multi-layered things, and a translator's job is not a simple one. Sometimes we come across  other shades of meaning when we study how a word is used. I've long found it interesting that the Bible talks about the "remission" of sins. These days our English word remission is often a specialty-word for early success in cancer treatment. But that use was repurposed from older uses. In the New Testament, here are a few familiar verses that all contain the same Greek word, most commonly rendered into English as remission: 

For this is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins. (Matthew 26:28)

John baptized in the wilderness, preaching the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins. (Mark 1:4)

To give his people knowledge of salvation by the remission of their sins. (Luke 1:77)

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to announce good news to the poor. He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are bound. (Luke 4:18)

Going through all the uses in the New Testament, all the uses of that Greek word (aphesis) are typically rendered into English as remission or forgiveness except in Luke 4:18, where the English is typically given along the lines of deliverance, liberty, or freedom. 

It lends me hope that some of those shades of meaning, too, were meant about our sins: deliverance, liberty, and freedom. Forgiveness for them is a treasured promise; freedom from them even more so. Even if the final freedom is still to come, it will be cause for celebration. 

Forgiveness: The no-shows at our big moments

This continues a series on forgiveness. 

 "But Thomas, one of the Twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came." (John 20:24)

Thomas is one of Jesus' chosen Twelve apostles -- a high honor in this world. And yet he is most famous for doubting. Who was he doubting?* Did he doubt the women's story? He might have convinced himself that Mary and the others were confused. Did he doubt the other disciples? He must have; they carried the word to him also. He was likely to have heard the report of Mary and the others who had gone to the tomb. Thomas chose not to be there in the upper room that night; he may have been expressing his doubts already by his absence.

So Thomas missed Jesus' first supper with his disciples after the resurrection. Thomas missed the joy, and continued in grief. He wasn't there for Jesus; he also wasn't there for his fellow apostles to console each other in their sorrow. We're not sure where he was when his fellow apostles found him, but as they brought him the news of Jesus' resurrection, Thomas made his doubt and skepticism plain: he didn't believe them, and wouldn't take their word. ... Not entirely. He did believe them, or want to believe them, just enough that he was in their company the next time that Jesus came to see them. And Jesus met Thomas' skepticism with compassion, with a willingness to relieve his doubts and fears, to spend some extra time to strengthen him.

There are times when people have been no-shows at my big moments in life -- or, I wonder, have I sometimes been a no-show at theirs? Jesus' patience with Thomas is encouraging -- even knowing his doubt, he meets it with understanding. He considers it worth the effort to reach out, and (to their credit) so did the other apostles. 

Lord, in someone's absence, may I withhold judgment and consider that I may not know what doubts are on their minds. At the right time, may we see each other and resolve the doubts. For those where I have been absent, may I seek the new occasion to be there for them again.

---

* Yes, I'm aware that it's still officially on English style-guides that it should be "Whom" at the start of the flagged sentence; that's also (in practical use) considered at least semi-archaic. I choose to use "who" in the hopes that future style guides will adopt what is becoming de facto standard, if not yet formal standard. Even if the style guides do not adopt that standard, it is likely that less formal readers already have.

Forgiveness: Those who scored personal points at our expense

This post continues the Lenten series on forgiveness. 

As soon as he (Pilate) knew that he (Jesus) was under Herod's jurisdiction, he sent him to Herod who was himself also in Jerusalem at the time. ... And Herod with his soldiers despised him and mocked him, and dressed him in a bright robe, and sent him (Jesus) again to Pilate. And that same day Pilate and Herod became friends: for before they were at enmity between themselves. -- Luke 23: 7, 11-12

People trade favors all the time. In this broken world, mistreating other people or passing around a famous prisoner could be a token of friendship, a way to curry favor. And so the man who would soon authorize Jesus' execution became friends with the man who had ordered the death of John the Baptist. 

Jesus endured another round of needless mocking and manhandling by the soldiers, and interrogation by arrogant officials with nothing (they thought) at stake. It was a favor, some blend of power trip and bonding exercise, where two officials scored points at the expense of their prisoner. 

The stakes for me have never been that big. Still in my own way I have been on the short end of mocking where people bonded by joining together to make fun of me, or scored points at my expense. In some earlier posts in this series it is unclear whether there was intentional wrong-doing so much as weakness or fear. Here, there is the arrogance of people who used another human being as a pawn, the callousness of enjoying someone else's troubles, the indifference to justice. Here, forgiveness needs to be made of stronger stuff, and repentance would see the person gaining more humility -- and compassion -- than when they had begun. It's very worldly to be carried away by a thought of our own advantage, or enjoyment, or entertainment, or opportunity; it's very human. It's not one of humanity's finer moments. It is Jesus' humility and compassion which brought him there, to a place where he could work out our forgiveness. 

Lord, may I seek a greater measure of humility and compassion. May I see my own repentance as gain rather than loss, as freedom from an unhealthy and unkind spirit. And may I consider, "We all do pray for mercy, and that same prayer teaches us all to render the deeds of mercy" (Shakespeare, in case the quote is unfamiliar to anyone, with the wording slightly modernized). 

Forgiveness: Those who counted the cost -- and ran

This continues a Lenten series on forgiveness, focusing on all-too-human sins that Jesus encountered and forgave. 

We have looked at Jesus' understanding of Peter, James, and John's weakness in the garden. We have considered Jesus' compassion for Peter's denial. For the rest of them? When faced with a squad of soldiers, to put it plainly: most of the disciples ran. Jesus was facing an arrest on capital charges -- with a speedily-held trial in a politicized court where innocence didn't matter, and sentenced to death in a manner that was designed to terrify people into compliance. It largely worked. The disciples were afraid. When they saw the price tag of sticking with Jesus on that night, most of them ran away. 

Jesus had known they would. He told them in advance, at dinner that night, that all of them would leave him. And still they went to the garden with him. He still wanted their company, and they wanted his. The Gospel of John regards the disciples leaving as the fulfillment of the prophecy that Jesus had lost none of those the Father gave him (John 18:9) -- that their lives truly would have been in danger if they had stayed. Had he told them in advance so that, from the safety of their hiding place, they would know that he had understood? 

There have been times in my life when I have been in need. So far those times have been few and far between, though they have stood out in my own mind. A few years back I took a blog break for health reasons, when for a few months I was nearly a medical shut-in until a health issue was resolved. The memory of people turning away can lead me to some uncharitable thoughts toward people that I had hoped would be there for me, and who decided that they just couldn't or wouldn't be there for me, not right then, not in that particular hour of need. No way to get groceries? There are delivery services. No way to get the yard cut? It's possible to get that hired. It's not necessarily other peoples' problem that I was in need. Those who take care of their own concerns may have valid concerns. Have I never turned down a request when my own life was tricky, or someone asked more than they seem to realize? Those who did stand by me in times of need are especially close to my heart. Those who did stand by me -- that's a gift, not an obligation. 

Lord, may I forgive the sins -- whether real or perceived -- from those who did not stand by me in my troubles. May I let go of grudges or bitter thoughts, and have the courage to face troubles graciously. 

Forgiveness: Those who tapped out when we needed them

This continues a Lenten series on forgiveness, focusing on the same kinds of sins that Jesus encountered and forgave. 

On the night in which he was betrayed, we know so many details of what Jesus did. And after dinner, he and some of his disciples went to a garden called Gethsemane. Jesus prayed. He asked his disciples to stay with him. His closest disciples, he asked them to stay close by him, to keep watch with him as he prayed. And they kept falling asleep. Over and over again. How often does Jesus ask for moral support? At the all-too-human moment of facing his own death, even as he prays, he asks for the company of his friends. And he keeps finding them asleep. It is an honor to be asked to watch with someone in their dark hour; that's easy to forget when it's late at night.

Are they unwilling? That's not the problem. He asked and they came with him. But after a good meal, and as the night wore on, their human frailty got the better of them. As Jesus said when he found them napping, "The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak."

There are times when I am angry at the people who were not there in my hour of need. As we see with the disciples, that can happen even from a simple thing like a late hour and a good meal: the eyelids grow heavy, and we truly hope nobody needs us because we will not be awake. I tend to imagine that people would be there for me if only the other person really cared -- but Jesus teaches me better: sometimes it's not right to doubt the sincerity of their compassion, so much as to remember the weakness of our humanity.

Lord, help me to forgive those who did not do what they could, when I asked for support. May I call to mind their willingness, and the weakness of humanity that we share.

Forgiveness: Promises not kept

This continues a Lenten series on forgiveness. The series follows kinds of sins that Jesus encountered and forgave, and if I could find the grace to forgive others for the same. 

• "Even if all should fall away, I will not." -- Peter, on the night in which Jesus was betrayed
• "I don't know the man!" -- Peter, within 24 hours ... outside the place where the trial was held

Peter tried. He really did. When Jesus was arrested, most of the disciples scattered. Peter didn't run away, he followed. He said he'd be there for Jesus even if it cost his own arrest, even if it cost his own life. He wanted to have that much courage. He watched the others run to avoid arrest, even his own brother Andrew and his old fishing partners James and John. He watched his leader arrested, watched him being mocked and slapped around by the soldiers. He was the only one of Jesus' followers there, but he wasn't alone. He was surrounded by people who were on the other side, and they were starting to turn their attention to him. At some point his nerve failed. 

It's easy to blame him, and maybe easy to forgive him. The reason we see his failings -- and his alone: honestly, wasn't that because he was the only one who was still there? Yes, he fell away, but everyone else had fallen away sooner. 

There are times when I look at people who made promises they did not keep. Am I sure I've never been the one who fell away? Am I angry or disappointed when someone makes a promise they didn't keep -- but give a pass to people who didn't even try? Sometimes we hit our limits. We're human. As we remember in Lent: We are dust, and to dust we will return. 

Lord, may I forgive the promises not kept. May I remember the hope and well-wishes that were the intent of the promise, and forgive the human weakness that prevented its fulfillment. May I remember how easy it is not to know quite what we're up against, not to know what the future holds -- and show mercy gladly and willingly for those who offered a promise that they had intended to keep, but later did not. 

Forgiveness: Sins committed in ignorance

Jesus often focused on forgiveness. If the central focus of his life is found in his journey to the cross, then forgiveness deserves a more central place in my own thoughts and my own life. When I think of forgiveness, I often think of the forgiveness that I need to receive. How often do I think of the forgiveness that I need to give? 

First I will focus on something that may be easier for me: sins against me that were done in ignorance. 

"Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they're doing." -- Jesus, at his execution

In the Bible, the Law of Moses has a thread of teaching that sins of ignorance are more easily forgiven than sins of defiance (see, for example, Numbers 15:22-30). The apostle Peter speaks of sins committed in ignorance (Acts 3:17), as did the apostle Paul (Acts 17:30, 1 Timothy 1:13). Most notably, Jesus spoke of it at his execution, praying that his executioners be forgiven because they did not know what they  were doing (Luke 23:34). 

Of the times that other people have wronged me, were some of them done unknowingly or because of mistaken information? Once I heard someone make a passionate speech for action and I wanted to find a way to help, asking "What can we do?" She publicly mocked me for being defeatist. Looking back, I know that "What can we do?" is sometimes used in a defeatist way, but I had meant it sincerely. It stung to be publicly held up to ridicule, especially when my meaning was very much the opposite. Again, once I knew some people who were continually hostile to me, and I did not find out til years later that someone had been telling them tales which were far from true. I suppose it's possible the tale-teller believed the things they were saying -- that didn't make it right, or any more pleasant to find out that anyone believed it. Confusions and misunderstandings, missing information and missed guesses, they're all part of the world we live in. If I were the one who made the bad assumption, what would I think if someone held a grudge against me for it? 

I consider when Jesus was being executed. The judges had ordered him to be put to death. How were the soldiers to know the rest of the story? They were caught up in other peoples' mistakes or lies or corruption. Jesus forgave them. So if someone misunderstood or misinterpreted my meaning, if someone believed a lie told about me -- am I willing to forgive them? 

Lord, may I forgive the sins committed against me in ignorance. May I remember how easy it is to simply not know the truth, or not know the fullness of the truth, to trust the wrong person -- and show mercy gladly and willingly for those who have wronged me, not knowing what they do. 

He could have thrown the stone

In the account of Jesus and the woman caught in adultery (see John 8), his challenge to the crowd is simple: Whoever is without sin can throw the first stone. And typically, as we read and study that passage we are encouraged to recall our own sins before we judge others. Instead of condemning the person, we condemn the sin. He is teaching us humility about our own sins, and compassion toward those who take the wrong turn. So far, so good. 

But consider this: Jesus could have thrown that first stone. He is not only teaching us humility, he is not only teaching us compassion. He is also showing us that the heart of God seeks mercy for us. If God's heart's desire was to condemn people, then Jesus would have thrown that stone. If the "one without sin" should condemn the person, then Jesus would have condemned her. But as Jesus shows us, "one without sin" takes no delight in condemning others. He condemns the action -- but instead of condemning the person, he would rather restore the person. 

Why I can find grudges appealing (not advocating them, but being honest about them)

Since Lent is the season of repentance, I'll own one of my struggles: I know how to carry a grudge. As I try to put down certain grudges, I am learning an uncomfortable thing: I am carrying certain grudges because I don't want to let go of them. In some cases there was irreparable harm done to someone, whether myself or others close to me. Letting go of that kind of grudge seems like letting go of the fact that the "bad guys" got away with it. Isn't it easier to forgive the villain if the villain has been caught and humbled? I do not have the same reaction to a villain who is successfully masquerading as an angel of light. 

If the reader has no comparable experiences, consider the famous grudge pursued by the movie character Inigo Montoya from The Princess Bride. He watched someone kill his father; he was too little to do anything about it. His grudge was based on the certainty that his father was worth avenging, that killing his father was wrong, that wrong deserved to be challenged and stopped. In some of the grudges I struggle with, I have not yet found how to let go of the grudge while holding onto the certainty that wrong deserves to be challenged and stopped.

Not all of my grudges are about irreparable harm. I also find it hard to release a grudge if I expect the wrong will happen again, or if the wrong was intentional, for example if there was spite involved.

In different ways, the same point comes up: some grudges feel like unfinished business: like the work that comes before forgiveness is not complete. For now, the best I have found is to notice the common threads, and give voice to what needs saying. I'll stick with the fictional example and name what is true for the people involved: Inigo's father did not deserve to die; he deserved better. The person who killed him did wrong, deserved to be ashamed of his actions, and deserved to be held accountable for his actions. I wonder, how much is that groundwork part of the distinction between being forgiven and getting away with it. What of Inigo; did he deserve the obligation of righting that wrong? Is it a bad or good thing to have that obligation?

Prayer: Lord, grant me discernment to forgive truly, to speak honestly, to set aside any mere resentment or bitterness, and to do unto others as I would have them do toward me.

God's love in action - and the tie between understanding and forgiveness

I had the privilege this weekend to meet Bob Miller, founder of Texas Equusearch. In itself, the organization is extraordinary, having earned a place along others in the "God's love in action" series where I have highlighted some of my personal heroes. His organization searches for missing persons and is financed completely by donations. They have recovered many people alive. In other cases, they have recovered bodies, bringing the families the only things they can offer at that stage: support and closure. To hear him speak, Miller is deeply moved by his Christian faith. He is also moved by his own tragedy: some thirty years ago, his teenage daughter Laura went missing. It was over a year before her body was discovered. He knew not only the nightmare of having a missing child, but also how much room there was for somebody to be doing something more. He vowed to be that something more, that no other family should go through it alone, as his family had. So from his own tragedy, that organization was born. The organization did not come right away: first, there was the heartbreak and the devastation. Miller spoke movingly of how close he came to suicide. It's from that depth of anguish that he has come back.

So for all the hundreds of families he has helped over the years, he has never forgotten his daughter, Laura. Her photo is part of all the publicity work for the organization. His daughter's body was one of several found in a serial killer's dumping ground. They have yet to positively identify Laura's killer, but Miller believes he knows the identity based on the evidence and the police work to this point, regardless of whether there is enough evidence for a court case. What is his reaction to the thought of his daughter's killer? He feels sorry for him. He has read the man's childhood history, and feels compassion for him. He says he forgives him. (A photographer at the event where I met him was openly disdainful when Miller said that -- or was the disdain at the the part where Miller said he believes good is stronger than evil? Anyway.)

Knowledge -- loving with the mind -- led Miller to compassion. The mind has a reputation for being cold and detached. And here, that may have been the only thing that opened the door to understanding: the mind's ability to put enough room to breathe between itself and the visceral pain of having lost his daughter. He still feels that visceral pain, let there be no doubt. But with his mind at work, he was able to gain understanding, gain perspective, react with wisdom and grace rather than raw pain alone.

Real forgiveness comes from love. And compassion is built on understanding. So it seems that, if we want to forgive someone, we need to understand them: not excuse them, but understand.

"By your words you shall be acquitted"

By your words you shall be acquitted, and by your words you shall be condemned. - Jesus (Matthew 12:37)

The Bible invites us to imagine the Last Day, and to wonder about the words that will be spoken to us. While Jesus has given us more than one picture of the Last Day, they share a common theme: "with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you." Jesus said that our own words would come back to us on the Last Day, not only for those who are condemned but even for those who would be acquitted:

I say to you: That every idle word that people shall speak, they shall give account for it on the Day of Judgment. For by your words you shall be acquitted, and by your words you shall be condemned. (Matthew 12:36-37)

So, if the words I hear on that day are words that I have used myself, I should ask myself: with what words would I like to be acquitted? When we imagine the Last Day, we might worry about what words we will hear, and we may wonder what words will be spoken to us. But if we are judged "by our own words", then we have a hand in choosing the words we will hear on that day.

May I never again say something I would not want to hear said back to me on that day. What words would I want to hear? When I think of words of forgiveness, these words would be sweet to my soul: 

• "There is so much good in you. We'll remember the best, and the rest will be like it never happened. You'll see. This is a new beginning."
• "Is that even worth comparing to all the kindnesses you have shown, day after day, week after week, year after year? How could I see only the bad and overlook all the good?"
• "You're remembering what you said? I know that's not the kind of person you want to be. Let's put that behind us."
• "I have waited for the day when we could get past that. Consider it forgotten." 
• "What I've really wanted is a chance to be reconciled to you. This place is better with you in it, and that's what matters to me now."

When Jesus said our words would be used to acquit us, he wasn't talking about a blog. He was talking about words we say to other people. So if we want to choose the words that we most want to hear on the Last Day, it's time we start saying those things to other people. Make your own list. Let yourself imagine what you'd most want to hear. And then make sure that someone hears it from you, from the heart. The words of judgment we hear on that day will be our own words. We are invited to live our lives in such a way that the Lord will have plenty of beautiful things to choose from.

"Reinstating Peter" - as a pattern for forgiveness

On the night of Jesus' arrest, Peter denied three times that he knew Jesus. This was right before Jesus' execution. After Jesus' death, after his resurrection, he met his disciples by the sea again -- and he asked three times, "Simon, do you love me?"

Some see this as Jesus reinstating Simon Peter. No doubt that Peter was accepted again, and forgiven, still a disciple of Jesus, still beloved. But we also see Jesus going out of his way to present Peter with a chance to restore things, a chance to take back what he did, a chance to do what he wished he had done. Jesus could have said, "I forgive you" and left it at that. He could have said it three times, if he wanted to bring home the message that this was in answer to Peter having denied him three times, and it was fully forgiven. There are all kinds of ways that Jesus could have reinstated Peter. He chose to do it by giving Peter his dignity again, by letting Peter do something good and have a hand in restoring things between them. Jesus made it very simple for him; Peter could hardly have missed.

It's really easy for forgiveness to be condescending; that restores nothing. Sometimes the "forgiving" person actually humiliates the person they claim to forgive; that kind of "forgiveness" is more an act of revenge than an act of love. Jesus' forgiveness was genuine and welcoming, even presenting Peter with a chance to look back gladly about what he himself had done (though he didn't seem to realize it at the time). Peter didn't create that opportunity; Jesus handed it to him.

There are so many things that need restoring in my life that I'm hoping I can figure out how to follow Jesus in this. Just imagine all the currently-broken relationships: what if people could look at each other without resentment or shame?