Forgiveness, Not Understanding (Part 1)

We normally think of "understanding" as a cornerstone of human communication. After all, if we do not understand one another, it may reasonably be asserted that we have not actually communicated. So I’ll grant that understanding is a goal worth pursuing in most interactions. Yet there are circumstances in which understanding—or the pursuit thereof—can interfere with our duties to God and to each other. I’ll suggest two cases in which this is true, subordinating "understanding" to "forgiveness" in each. Here's the first:

When "Please forgive me" means, "Please understand me."

We've all made these types of apologies.

I knew better than to yell at you, I really did. But it was such a long day at work, and by the time I got home I felt like I was going to explode. When you said what you did, it was all over.

Now, this may pass as an apology simply because it recognizes the offense as an offense. But it is, in fact, no sort of apology. An apology starts with naming the sin, but it quickly moves into accepting responsibility and asking forgiveness. The following passage from John Ensor’s The Great Work of the Gospel radically changed the way that I think about forgiveness and apologies. Since reading this, I’ve seen similar formulations in other places, but I always go back to this one. Ensor is speaking here about the way that we ask God for forgiveness, but I think that many of the same principles apply in our horizontal relationships:

Even when we own up to our actual guilt, we usually attempt to shift attention to our woundedness and away from our waywardness…This is a clever way of admitting to guilt while justifying it at the same time. Another way we put the best spin on guilt is to say, “God, forgive me. I didn’t really mean it.” In other words, we meant well. Our hearts were good. This prayer for forgiveness is based on our really not needing it. It’s really a cry to be understood, not forgiven.

Our fundamental need as humans is not to be understood. The Psalmist cries out, “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts!” But his cry is not a cry for an understanding that forestalls forgiveness or renders it obsolete. His cry for understanding is for the understanding that leads to repentance. He continues, “See if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!” (Psalm 139:23-24).

For those of us who have sinned and fallen short of the image of God—namely, all of us—forgiveness is our fundamental need. Every one of us could cry out with the Psalmist, "For your name's sake, O LORD, pardon my guilt, for it is great"(25:11). So when we are tempted to regard ourselves or our behavior in a self-righteous way, we should remember these words from I John 1:

If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.

Rather than offering to one another our extravagant explanations and excuses, let us offer up simple confession and repentance. Such honest work betrays a heart in which is "no deceit"--and such a heart is "blessed" (Psalm 32:2).