Forgiveness, Not Understanding (Part 2)

When "I forgive you" waits for “I understand you.”

If you look at the parable of the unforgiving servant in Matthew 18, you'll notice something interesting about the plea offered by the servant in one case and rejected by him in another.

Be patient with me and I will pay back everything.

The words are exactly the same; in one case, forgiveness is granted; in the other it is refused. We aren’t given details about the circumstances of the two debtors or about their efforts to repay those debts. All we know are the words used with which to cry out for mercy and the responses that those words received. What might this reveal to us about the nature of forgiveness?

I would suggest that, at a minimum, we can see here that forgiveness between men is not extended or withheld simply on the basis of the words exchanged. I say that in spite of the fact that I have suggested very specific ways in which apologies should be proferred! We offer our apologies humbly and thoroughly in order that we might put no stumbling block in another man's path, not in order that we might merit forgiveness.

No, the particular nature of the words spoken was not the determining factor here. What was different in the two cases was the heart of the one of whom forgiveness was asked. Forgiveness, for the Christian, is not so much about understanding the wherefore and why of another person's heart; it's not about assessing his or her motivation or standing before the Lord or even the rectitude of his case. Forgiveness offered is about the work and the words of Christ.

Forgiveness is about the work of Christ in that it is a response of gratitude for the forgiveness received at the cross. And it is about His words, for it takes seriously his statement in Matthew 6, "For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."

It's honestly not that hard to understand the motivation of the wicked servant; which of us hasn't reacted to the "offense of the cross"? Which of us hasn't thrown up his hands in disgust and said, "I want to do this myself." Who hasn't sought an independent righteousness in spite of the free gift of grace? Like the wicked servant, we despise the cross when we withhold the grace of forgiveness.

Oh, but I want to glory in the cross. I want to boast in the forgiveness that it bought me, and I want to allow that forgiveness to overflow into the lives of those around me. I do not have to wait to understand another man's heart; I know that mine was changed once and for all by forgiveness, so I freely give.

"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony" (Col 3:12-14).

"Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit" (Psalm 32:1-2).

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).