Forgiveness: untying the knot

There are days when I’ve had it up to here . . .
Ever had one of those days?

Let’s say . . .
The morning doesn’t start well

and my co-worker and I are fighting.

We talk about it . . .

he sort of apologizes.

It goes like this: “I’m sorry that’s how you feel.”

He’s sorry for my feelings?

I’m not sorry for them.

I want him to be sorry for his actions, not my feelings.

But I figure this is about as good as it will get

so I forgive him.

The only problem is that this has happened before –

at least four other times.

So how many times do I forgive him? Really . . .

it’s been five times – for big things

and probably 50 for small things.

How many times do I forgive him?

We know we’re supposed to forgive.

We even believe that we should forgive.
It’s just that it’s so hard . . .
and needed so often.

So there’s this rabbi.

A master teacher.

A guy on top of his game.

Jesus.

And, like rabbis do, he’s gathered students – disciples.

The definition of a disciple is

to know what the rabbi knows
so you can do what the rabbi does
so you can be just like the rabbi.

There’s one particular disciple – his name is Peter.
He’s a sit-at-the-front-of-the-class kind of student.
He asks questions at every possible chance.

“Lord, how many times shall I forgive someone

who sins against me?”

Peter knows Jesus doesn’t do anything halfway,

so he pads his question:

“How many times shall I forgive someone

who sins against me?

Up to seven times?”

(Oh, that’s good!)

Knowing that Peter doesn’t really get it,
Jesus answers,
“I tell you, not seven times, but 77 times.”

Then he tells a story:

It’s the tale of a servant who owes a debt to the king,

a huge debt – ten thousand bags of gold.

In a surprising plot twist, the king forgives him!

The ledger falls back to zero.

The servant turns around – a quick 180 –

and demands repayment from his co-worker

(for a rather small debt)

and shows no mercy.

So the king throws the servant into prison.

Handed over to be tortured. The end.

“And that’s how my heavenly Father will treat each of you
unless you forgive a brother or sister from your heart.”
Ouch – that’s harsh.

So . . . how much forgiveness is enough?

Unlimited forgiveness.

That’s not fair!

She’s damaging my reputation.
He’s destroying my confidence.
They’re constantly backstabbing.
He never shuts up.
She won’t leave me alone.

For a long time my focus was on the offence and the offender.

I was a shopkeeper at the till, adding up the bill,

convinced that eventually others would have to pay.

Of course, there have to be limits
to our patience with misbehaviour.

There have to be some boundaries.

If he’s harming me – if she’s harming me,

I can’t keep putting myself in harm’s way.

So, how about I forgive seven times?

Jesus doesn’t even answer the question.
Peter asks about a human problem from a human perspective,

but Jesus says,

in God’s economy

forgiveness is different.

The servant was in so far over his head, he was doomed.

It made the Gomery inquiry look like small potatoes.

His debt was the equivalent of one day’s wages

for 100 million people. Absurd.

And the king forgives it.

Done. No community service.

No suspended sentence.

Forgiven.

That’s what God is like.

Jesus says:

if you’re a disciple
do what I do
and you will be just like me.

If I’m becoming just like Jesus,

if I’m being transformed – changed from the inside out,

then forgiving isn’t what I do.

Forgiving is who I am.

The accumulation of offences,

the collection of grievances,

I tuck into my pocket,

I store away in my heart –

Who are they affecting?

The other person or me?

Bitterness moves in.
I’m chained by unsettled accounts.
I’m in bondage to memories I rehearse.
I’m a slave to my sense of justice.
In my un-forgiveness, I live another person’s life,

not mine.

If we embrace God’s way,

we forgive

because we’ve been transformed,

changed,

and freed to live.

Imagine Peter sitting back,
giving Jesus a quizzical look.
In his head he’s saying,
“But you didn’t answer my question!”

Jesus looks at him and says,
“Peter, could you please ask your question again?”

As Peter opens his mouth, then snaps it shut, he understands.

The forgiveness he’s experienced isn’t

fair or deserved – it’s grace.

And the forgiveness he needs to offer others isn’t

fair or just – it’s grace.

If he wants to be just like the rabbi,

if he wants to be part of God’s kingdom,

forgiveness is lavish.

It’s the overflowing of a changed life.
It’s the exuberance of a second chance.
It’s no longer being chained to someone else’s sin.

Forgiveness is freedom.

To forgive is to untie the knot that binds us

to someone else’s sin.

It’s a choice that frees the forgiver

and offers freedom to the forgiven.

To forgive is to unshackle someone

from the justice owed you.

And to experience the joy

of no longer carrying the weight of their sin.

So now we know what Jesus knows.

And if we go and do what Jesus does

over and over again,

we will become just like the rabbi.

Like Jesus.

John Neufeld is leadership coach for the Canadian Conference of MB Churches and lives in Winnipeg with his family. This is excerpted from a recent sermon.