Over the past five or so days, puke has run like rivers in our house. It started with Zoe, progressed to my wife Kelly (laid her out for a couple of days), and struck Davis and Emma Kate in an epic puke-duelling match in the middle of the night on Friday night.
I have been the lone healthy one through all of it. I'm faintly hopeful that my time might not come at all. I'll be sure to keep you posted.
At any rate, being the lone healthy one over the past five days has meant a lot of work. We've undergone a self-imposed quarantine over the past several days and we've all been up in the middle of the night with sick kids.
Yesterday, in the midst of my own sleep deprivation and tired and somewhat cranky kids, I lost it with my oldest son. He and Zoe were bickering for the millionth time in the previous ten minutes and I just yelled at him.
It's never pleasant to see the ugly sides of yourself. Mostly, I like to believe that my most pleasant sides are the "real" me and that those ugly sides are the aberration. I think if I'm honest, however, the unfortunate reality is that it's quite the opposite.
The episode occurred just before dinner. About five minutes later, I had cooled down. I knew what I needed to do.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Davis. Can you forgive me?"
"Yes, Daddy," my sweet boy said to me in his sweet little voice, "I forgive you."
It's never good and yet always good for my ego to apologize to my six, four and three year-olds.
I have spent so much time with so many students over the years who had zero capacity to own the ways they had blatantly sinned against and hurt someone else because in their family they never did it. They never saw an adult parent take responsibility for sinning relationally against them or anyone else.
And so they were completely crippled in their ability to live in reality where we sin against each other all the time. Not only were they disasters relationally in the present. Their future marriages and families were going to bear the burden of the pride of those parents. A train wreck was preparing to repeat itself with each successive generation.
Later that night, we were going around the dinner table and sharing what we're thankful for--sort of a Thanksgiving primer. "I'm thankful for my daddy," is what Davis said.
And I'm thankful for him and his willingness to forgive me. And I'm thankful for parents that taught me the value of owning up to mistakes and making things right. And I'm grateful for other mentors who taught me this value along the way.
Hopefully I'll avoid the bubonic plague that's been steamrolling the Kirk house over these past several days. But whether I'm also steamrolled later today or not, I'm hopeful that my kids will grow up with a daddy who's not going to steamroll over them...at least not without an apology, shortly thereafter.
PIEBALD: any animal or flower that has two or more prominent colors. PIEBALD MAN: the nick-name of C.S. Lewis’ protagonist in Perelandra to symbolize his internal battle between doing things his own way or trusting in God--which essentially describes most of my issues in my PIEBALD LIFE.
What I Write About
I write about the infinite number of intersections between every day life and the good news of the God who has come to get us.
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Monday, November 08, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Free Grace: God's Problem
Last week Kelly went to an excellent presentation by a guy who's a parenting guru. His cd's sold for $600. They were marked down to a measly $400 for those present that night.
He talked about why they cost so much: "If you pay a couple hundred dollars, you pay attention," he said. "If they were free or cheap, you wouldn't take them all that seriously."
This same concept was confirmed by a friend of mine who does p.r. for a living. "I've consulted with churches," he told me recently, "and you sort of want to do it for free or really cheap."
"But the problem with that is that if you do it for free, no one pays any attention. If it's costing the church a couple thousand dollars, they're taking the whole thing much more seriously."
So it seems that we're much more attentive to things that we have to pay more for. Which means that God has a problem. The Scriptures are adamant that God's grace comes to us for free.
And if you look around at plenty of Christians lives, you can see that there's lots of folks who don't God's grace all that seriously. It's been given to them for free and they treat it carelessly.
So why give us grace for free? Why not put the bar much higher so we take it much more seriously?
The whole concept of a high-cost item compelling us to pay closer attention works in the world of goods and services. But the Scripture is consistent on relational terms when it comes to what God has done for us: sons and daughters, a royal priesthood, reconciled to God, forgiven, holy and dearly loved. These are relational words.
And when it comes to relationships, the principle of high cost getting our attention has the opposite effect.
Have you ever had someone forgive you, but you knew that the forgiveness was solely based on your consistent performance to stay in their good graces? Ever have someone forgive you but only after you jumped through several dozen hoops?
Such "forgiveness" is seldom secure--when it's 'earned' it's contingent upon our performance. It is clearly based on us doing nothing wrong ever again. And so we're left insecure in the relationship, always one step away from the whole thing falling apart all over again.
But because of God's great love for us, God has come and offered us forgiveness, life, in the name of Christ Jesus. And it has nothing to do with our ability to stay on his good side. And it has everything to do with him doing everything necessary to reconcile us to himself.
We are forgiven. And it is free--it has to be so that we can't screw it up. God desires reconciliation with us way too much to allow it to be contingent on our ability to earn his grace. That's part of the greatness of this incredibly reckless (and free) gift.
He talked about why they cost so much: "If you pay a couple hundred dollars, you pay attention," he said. "If they were free or cheap, you wouldn't take them all that seriously."
This same concept was confirmed by a friend of mine who does p.r. for a living. "I've consulted with churches," he told me recently, "and you sort of want to do it for free or really cheap."
"But the problem with that is that if you do it for free, no one pays any attention. If it's costing the church a couple thousand dollars, they're taking the whole thing much more seriously."
So it seems that we're much more attentive to things that we have to pay more for. Which means that God has a problem. The Scriptures are adamant that God's grace comes to us for free.
And if you look around at plenty of Christians lives, you can see that there's lots of folks who don't God's grace all that seriously. It's been given to them for free and they treat it carelessly.
So why give us grace for free? Why not put the bar much higher so we take it much more seriously?
The whole concept of a high-cost item compelling us to pay closer attention works in the world of goods and services. But the Scripture is consistent on relational terms when it comes to what God has done for us: sons and daughters, a royal priesthood, reconciled to God, forgiven, holy and dearly loved. These are relational words.
And when it comes to relationships, the principle of high cost getting our attention has the opposite effect.
Have you ever had someone forgive you, but you knew that the forgiveness was solely based on your consistent performance to stay in their good graces? Ever have someone forgive you but only after you jumped through several dozen hoops?
Such "forgiveness" is seldom secure--when it's 'earned' it's contingent upon our performance. It is clearly based on us doing nothing wrong ever again. And so we're left insecure in the relationship, always one step away from the whole thing falling apart all over again.
But because of God's great love for us, God has come and offered us forgiveness, life, in the name of Christ Jesus. And it has nothing to do with our ability to stay on his good side. And it has everything to do with him doing everything necessary to reconcile us to himself.
We are forgiven. And it is free--it has to be so that we can't screw it up. God desires reconciliation with us way too much to allow it to be contingent on our ability to earn his grace. That's part of the greatness of this incredibly reckless (and free) gift.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Forgiveness, Unloading Pain, and Living the Full-Blown Twinkie Life
So the core of the Christian story is grace and forgiveness flowing toward us from God. And then Jesus and the rest of the New Testament is adamant that we pay that same grace and forgiveness forward to people who hurt us or sin against us.
Of course, if you're really ticked at someone for good reason, that really stinks.
In Christian circles, we often talk about forgiving others out of gratitude for what Christ has done for us. This is true to a point, but feelings of gratitude don't really cut it for the hardest cases. I need a completely new power at work in me, not just feelings of gratitude.
And so enters the central importance of Jesus actually taking up residence in our hearts and minds. To be a Christian is to be "in Christ." And to be in Christ is to have him dwell inside of you. You are the Twinkie, incomplete without the filling. To be filled up with Christ is to be fully what you were created to be.
We have a limited capacity to forgive. But Christ in us has an infinite capacity to forgive. In fact, no matter what's happened to you, Jesus has already paid for that sin and forgiven it: "Behold, the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world," his cousin John declared.
And so our job in the work of forgiveness is not to generate forgiveness but to demonstrate forgiveness. Read that again, nice and slow.
It is not on us to dig deep and gut it out and drum up forgiveness. Christ in us has already forgiven, already absorbed that sin against you on the cross. We are therefore instruments of his grace and forgiveness, never initiators of grace and forgiveness on our own.
To be sure we have an important choice to make. We must decide to participate in Christ's forgiveness, we have to allow him in us to do the work in us of actual forgiveness and then allowing him through us to extend forgiveness.
But the hard parts have already been done: the sin has been paid for, the absorption of the sin has already taken place, and Christ already dwells in us.
This, by the way, is not only true in the case of forgiving someone else.
It's true for you when you catch yourself with that really disturbing/broken/angry/sinful thought or motivation. Jesus already paid for that. No need to go around feeling guilty. Rush to him, he dwells inside of you, invite him to absorb that thought, that motive, and to replace it with his life and love.
And it's true for any pain you experience--be that caused by a specific person or just general pain in life. Jesus in you has the infinite capacity to absorb all your pain--what else would you want to do with it? Allow it to hijack your life/marriage/family/career/soul? Why not allow Jesus to absorb it all and give you life in exchange?
Jesus in us has already taken on all the pain and all the sin of the whole world--the stuff we do and the stuff done to us. The core question in the formation of all our souls is "what will you do with all your pain?"
Jesus has already taken it on himself. To be a Christian is to be the full-blown Twinkie. If you're not a Christian, the offer of living the full-blown Twinkie life is on the table.
Why continue to carry all of this anger, unforgiveness (both of others and yourself) and pain around?
Of course, if you're really ticked at someone for good reason, that really stinks.
In Christian circles, we often talk about forgiving others out of gratitude for what Christ has done for us. This is true to a point, but feelings of gratitude don't really cut it for the hardest cases. I need a completely new power at work in me, not just feelings of gratitude.
And so enters the central importance of Jesus actually taking up residence in our hearts and minds. To be a Christian is to be "in Christ." And to be in Christ is to have him dwell inside of you. You are the Twinkie, incomplete without the filling. To be filled up with Christ is to be fully what you were created to be.
We have a limited capacity to forgive. But Christ in us has an infinite capacity to forgive. In fact, no matter what's happened to you, Jesus has already paid for that sin and forgiven it: "Behold, the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world," his cousin John declared.
And so our job in the work of forgiveness is not to generate forgiveness but to demonstrate forgiveness. Read that again, nice and slow.
It is not on us to dig deep and gut it out and drum up forgiveness. Christ in us has already forgiven, already absorbed that sin against you on the cross. We are therefore instruments of his grace and forgiveness, never initiators of grace and forgiveness on our own.
To be sure we have an important choice to make. We must decide to participate in Christ's forgiveness, we have to allow him in us to do the work in us of actual forgiveness and then allowing him through us to extend forgiveness.
But the hard parts have already been done: the sin has been paid for, the absorption of the sin has already taken place, and Christ already dwells in us.
This, by the way, is not only true in the case of forgiving someone else.
It's true for you when you catch yourself with that really disturbing/broken/angry/si
And it's true for any pain you experience--be that caused by a specific person or just general pain in life. Jesus in you has the infinite capacity to absorb all your pain--what else would you want to do with it? Allow it to hijack your life/marriage/family/caree
Jesus in us has already taken on all the pain and all the sin of the whole world--the stuff we do and the stuff done to us. The core question in the formation of all our souls is "what will you do with all your pain?"
Jesus has already taken it on himself. To be a Christian is to be the full-blown Twinkie. If you're not a Christian, the offer of living the full-blown Twinkie life is on the table.
Why continue to carry all of this anger, unforgiveness (both of others and yourself) and pain around?
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Rotting in Unforgiveness
In 2002 there was a string of sniper-shootings in the D.C. area. We were living in Richmond at the time, and the snipers furthest-south shooting occurred in Ashland, just about fifteen minutes north of where we were living.
Those of you who remember the case might remember that there was one false arrest a week or two before they caught them--that happened five minutes from the school where my wife Kelly taught fifth grade.
So I was moved today as I read about the execution of the sniper last night, seven years after his reign of terror ended with ten dead.
What was particularly striking was the quotes of the victims' families. One guy who's sister was killed said he felt no closure. His death was too quick and easy...and it didn't change anything. He was still bitter and reeling.
Another guy was talking about forgiveness. His brother had been gunned down. His quote was simple and profound:
For those of us who call ourselves Christ-followers, the call is even more severe: we must forgive others because we ourselves have been forgiven much. The only commentary that Jesus offers on his own model prayer in the gospels is about the forgiveness part: if we don't forgive others, God will not forgive us. Yikes.
If I had lost a family member to this guy, I have no idea how I would have responded to last night's execution. I pray to God that I might have the gift of grace to forgive.
But in the mean time, I've got my own, smaller ghosts that I've got to forgive and let go of. My un-forgiveness isn't affecting them one bit. I'm the one left rotting as a result of my un-forgiveness, not them.
And besides, if I don't practice with those smaller ghosts whose to say that I'd be able to forgive should something really serious come my way?
Those of you who remember the case might remember that there was one false arrest a week or two before they caught them--that happened five minutes from the school where my wife Kelly taught fifth grade.
So I was moved today as I read about the execution of the sniper last night, seven years after his reign of terror ended with ten dead.
What was particularly striking was the quotes of the victims' families. One guy who's sister was killed said he felt no closure. His death was too quick and easy...and it didn't change anything. He was still bitter and reeling.
Another guy was talking about forgiveness. His brother had been gunned down. His quote was simple and profound:
"One is that God calls for me to do that in the Bible and the second thing is related to that. If I don't, it rots me from the inside out. It doesn't really hurt John Muhammad or anybody that I have bitterness against."This, my friends is truth. Unforgiveness simply rots us from the inside out. What is this foolish illusion that we live under that unforgiveness, anger, nursing grudges does anything to anyone else except the corruption of our souls, the hardening of our hearts, and the closing off of our imaginations to the realities of love, grace, forgiveness and peace? It is worshiping at a god of our own self-destruction.
For those of us who call ourselves Christ-followers, the call is even more severe: we must forgive others because we ourselves have been forgiven much. The only commentary that Jesus offers on his own model prayer in the gospels is about the forgiveness part: if we don't forgive others, God will not forgive us. Yikes.
If I had lost a family member to this guy, I have no idea how I would have responded to last night's execution. I pray to God that I might have the gift of grace to forgive.
But in the mean time, I've got my own, smaller ghosts that I've got to forgive and let go of. My un-forgiveness isn't affecting them one bit. I'm the one left rotting as a result of my un-forgiveness, not them.
And besides, if I don't practice with those smaller ghosts whose to say that I'd be able to forgive should something really serious come my way?
Monday, August 17, 2009
Not Sure We Want Grace
One week from Thursday I'm giving our first large group talk: A Community of Forgiveness and Grace. I'm excited about the talk topic except for one thing: I'm not sure that we actually want grace.
Forgiveness is something that's easy for us to culturally get our minds around. We screw up, we need forgiveness.
Even if we don't think we're all that bad, the idea of a God who would forgive us if we hypothetically ever did anything wrong sounds very appealing. I read a quote somewhere recently, "Of course God will forgive me. That's his job."
And in our common usage, we tend to conflate forgiveness and grace. Grace, in our common discussion, is the disposition towards forgiveness.
But when Jesus offers us forgiveness and grace, he has a very different thing in mind. And we see that most clearly in the story of the woman caught in adultery in John 8.
For those who might be unfamiliar: a woman is caught in adultery by religious leaders. She's dragged before Jesus: the law says we are to stone such women (and the men, too, by the way--not sure where he is), what do you say? All in an attempt to trip Jesus up.
Jesus' famous response: whoever's without sin, go ahead and cast the first stone. They all walk way (oldest first, a fun detail included in the story). Jesus finally says, "neither do I condemn you, go and sin no more."
"Neither do I condemn you." That's forgiveness. We get that.
"Go and sin no more." That's grace. We don't get that. Because we think that grace means access to further forgiveness. Which it is. But it's more than that.
Grace is the gift of living life as we were made to live it. Grace is the gift of God to walk in right-ness, in right relationship with God, with other people, with the created order. Grace is the calling to "go and sin no more."
Grace is the invitation to live life with God as Lord over your life rather than the tyrants of sin and death. God would not be a generous God if he simply covered up our mistakes while still allowing us to remain enslaved under a cruel master.
So he came, died, overthrew all our former masters that we might actually live "under new management." No longer are we stuck with our own flesh, the fallen world around us, or the evil one. We can actually learn to live free. He gives us His Spirit to do so.
Grace is not inconsistent obedience. My theology prof said that one day and it's always stuck with me. Inconsistent obedience is how we commonly talk about grace, but that's wrong. Grace is the gift of freedom from the old self to live to the new life in the Spirit, in Christ that we were actually made to live.
So I'm thinking about how to speak the good news of that grace next week to a room full of old and new students. You can pray that the Spirit gives us all a deep love for BOTH "neither do I condemn you" as well as the "go and sin no more."
That is, a real love for forgiveness and grace as it is offered to us in the Scriptures
Forgiveness is something that's easy for us to culturally get our minds around. We screw up, we need forgiveness.
Even if we don't think we're all that bad, the idea of a God who would forgive us if we hypothetically ever did anything wrong sounds very appealing. I read a quote somewhere recently, "Of course God will forgive me. That's his job."
And in our common usage, we tend to conflate forgiveness and grace. Grace, in our common discussion, is the disposition towards forgiveness.
But when Jesus offers us forgiveness and grace, he has a very different thing in mind. And we see that most clearly in the story of the woman caught in adultery in John 8.
For those who might be unfamiliar: a woman is caught in adultery by religious leaders. She's dragged before Jesus: the law says we are to stone such women (and the men, too, by the way--not sure where he is), what do you say? All in an attempt to trip Jesus up.
Jesus' famous response: whoever's without sin, go ahead and cast the first stone. They all walk way (oldest first, a fun detail included in the story). Jesus finally says, "neither do I condemn you, go and sin no more."
"Neither do I condemn you." That's forgiveness. We get that.
"Go and sin no more." That's grace. We don't get that. Because we think that grace means access to further forgiveness. Which it is. But it's more than that.
Grace is the gift of living life as we were made to live it. Grace is the gift of God to walk in right-ness, in right relationship with God, with other people, with the created order. Grace is the calling to "go and sin no more."
Grace is the invitation to live life with God as Lord over your life rather than the tyrants of sin and death. God would not be a generous God if he simply covered up our mistakes while still allowing us to remain enslaved under a cruel master.
So he came, died, overthrew all our former masters that we might actually live "under new management." No longer are we stuck with our own flesh, the fallen world around us, or the evil one. We can actually learn to live free. He gives us His Spirit to do so.
Grace is not inconsistent obedience. My theology prof said that one day and it's always stuck with me. Inconsistent obedience is how we commonly talk about grace, but that's wrong. Grace is the gift of freedom from the old self to live to the new life in the Spirit, in Christ that we were actually made to live.
So I'm thinking about how to speak the good news of that grace next week to a room full of old and new students. You can pray that the Spirit gives us all a deep love for BOTH "neither do I condemn you" as well as the "go and sin no more."
That is, a real love for forgiveness and grace as it is offered to us in the Scriptures
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Moving Beyond the Sponge
A couple of months ago I posted about breaking family and generational patterns of sin and brokenness. I suggest that the invitation of Christ is to participate with him in absorbing that sin rather than passing it along to the next generation.
In thinking more about this over the past week or so, I think that absorption language is good but not enough. It's not enough to talk about absorbing sin. That would seem to leave us with little recourse for actively addressing someone who has sinned against us.
Looking at Jesus, he not only absorbs sin but he also gathers it up in himself and returns blessing. This, I think, is the message of the Christian faith.
In our own lives, when we are sinned against or violated in any way, our natural inclination is to fight back (vengeance) or take it out on someone else (dis-placement).
But Jesus absorbs sin and brokenness in himself. And rather than repay it or pay it forward, he returns it with forgiveness and the invitation to be blessed in submission to himself. This is the heart of the invitation to not return evil for evil but return evil with good.
Of course, we are not up for this in and of ourselves. But Christ in us, the Holy Spirit given to us--these are the power we need to receive evil, absorb it, and then re-engage that same offender with favor and blessing, forgiveness and love.
This, of course, means gentleness. But it also means boundaries. It also means conflict and confrontation and rebuke--sometimes very strong rebuke. But we do all of this in love, in the same Spirit who speaks God's "no" to us in order to enter into his "yes."
So participating in Christ-the-sponge is helpful. But it's also critical that we understand the power of healthy, disproportionate and reckless engagement that can mean anything from gentle rebuke to significant distancing and boundaries.
In thinking more about this over the past week or so, I think that absorption language is good but not enough. It's not enough to talk about absorbing sin. That would seem to leave us with little recourse for actively addressing someone who has sinned against us.
Looking at Jesus, he not only absorbs sin but he also gathers it up in himself and returns blessing. This, I think, is the message of the Christian faith.
In our own lives, when we are sinned against or violated in any way, our natural inclination is to fight back (vengeance) or take it out on someone else (dis-placement).
But Jesus absorbs sin and brokenness in himself. And rather than repay it or pay it forward, he returns it with forgiveness and the invitation to be blessed in submission to himself. This is the heart of the invitation to not return evil for evil but return evil with good.
Of course, we are not up for this in and of ourselves. But Christ in us, the Holy Spirit given to us--these are the power we need to receive evil, absorb it, and then re-engage that same offender with favor and blessing, forgiveness and love.
This, of course, means gentleness. But it also means boundaries. It also means conflict and confrontation and rebuke--sometimes very strong rebuke. But we do all of this in love, in the same Spirit who speaks God's "no" to us in order to enter into his "yes."
So participating in Christ-the-sponge is helpful. But it's also critical that we understand the power of healthy, disproportionate and reckless engagement that can mean anything from gentle rebuke to significant distancing and boundaries.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Forgiveness Grab-Bag
A few grab-bag thoughts about forgiveness as we wrap up this little series, thanks to many of you who have responded to these posts:
1. Forgiving is not the same thing as excusing. Some of us prefer to excuse ("she's really just having a bad day") rather than forgive ("that hurt like hell. but Jesus in me can absorb and forgive that sin, and I can join him in doing the same") because excusing allows us to take a hurt less personally and doesn't require as much from us.
Again, because all of us have a limited capacity to forgive, we're trying to manage that resource as best we can. But excusing doesn't deal with the heart of the issue. Forgiveness does.
2. Some of us prefer to neither forgive nor excuse. We feel rather empowered and self-righteous in our anger. We have a right to be un-forgiving, no one can tell me that I don't have that right, so take that.
But to covet and nurse our own wounds in such a defensive way only leads to the spoiling of our lives. We become bitter, small, and defined by our hurts rather than defined by life. That's no way to live.
3. Forgiveness does not equal being stupid and enabling someone else's sin patterns. In an abusive relationship? Get out. Have an emotionally manipulative parent or sibling or friend? Draw firm boundaries, which might include severing the relationship all together or at least for a season.
4. For those of us who follow Christ, as my friend Tim pointed out on yesterday's post over on Facebook, forgiveness is not an option. It's a command. Jesus' only commentary on his own model prayer (what we commonly refer to as 'the Lord's prayer') is this from Matthew 6:
For if you forgive others when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. 15 But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.
5. Finally, forgiveness in many cases is a process.
In my own experiences with some of my hardest hurts, I find that initially I have to forgive about every few minutes. Then every few hours. And all I can do is pray and ask for God's help. Sometimes I just hope that today I only have to forgive 250 times as opposed to yesterday's 300 times.
It's a process. God's at work. Trust that he's for you.
1. Forgiving is not the same thing as excusing. Some of us prefer to excuse ("she's really just having a bad day") rather than forgive ("that hurt like hell. but Jesus in me can absorb and forgive that sin, and I can join him in doing the same") because excusing allows us to take a hurt less personally and doesn't require as much from us.
Again, because all of us have a limited capacity to forgive, we're trying to manage that resource as best we can. But excusing doesn't deal with the heart of the issue. Forgiveness does.
2. Some of us prefer to neither forgive nor excuse. We feel rather empowered and self-righteous in our anger. We have a right to be un-forgiving, no one can tell me that I don't have that right, so take that.
But to covet and nurse our own wounds in such a defensive way only leads to the spoiling of our lives. We become bitter, small, and defined by our hurts rather than defined by life. That's no way to live.
3. Forgiveness does not equal being stupid and enabling someone else's sin patterns. In an abusive relationship? Get out. Have an emotionally manipulative parent or sibling or friend? Draw firm boundaries, which might include severing the relationship all together or at least for a season.
4. For those of us who follow Christ, as my friend Tim pointed out on yesterday's post over on Facebook, forgiveness is not an option. It's a command. Jesus' only commentary on his own model prayer (what we commonly refer to as 'the Lord's prayer') is this from Matthew 6:
For if you forgive others when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. 15 But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.
5. Finally, forgiveness in many cases is a process.
In my own experiences with some of my hardest hurts, I find that initially I have to forgive about every few minutes. Then every few hours. And all I can do is pray and ask for God's help. Sometimes I just hope that today I only have to forgive 250 times as opposed to yesterday's 300 times.
It's a process. God's at work. Trust that he's for you.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Forgiveness & the Dental Hygenist
The real-life, real-time importance of forgiveness was driven home to me this morning as I sat in the dentists chair.
My hygenist began sharing with me about the messy divorce she had been through and (knowing what I do) how the Lord had been showing her how crucial it was that she forgive her ex and his now wife.
As I listened to the pain mixed with hope (she was particularly aggressive with the dental floss as she talked about his wife) I was greatly encouraged: the process of forgiveness was in full-swing. The Lord was mopping up the anger and bitterness that threatened her soul.
And as she finished telling me her story, I was reminded of the crux of what is so difficult for all of us in this matter of co-absorbing with Christ someone else's sin: it feels like we're letting them off the hook.
For some reason it feels much better to stew, to be angry, to imagine them being re-paid for all their wrongs and to imagine that we might be privileged to participate in that re-payment..or at least get to see it.
But the reality is this: the anger and bitterness forged by un-forgiveness does not trap or ensnare or keep the other person under our power. Quite the opposite. To hold onto un-forgiveness is to give the other person power over us.
Simply stated: we must forgive others for the sake of our own souls. To do otherwise is only to do damage to ourselves.
Much to our chagrin, if we're honest about many situations where we feel forgiving someone else is necessary, they either don't even realize they hurt us or they don't care. Forgiveness is not something that the offenders in our lives often think that they need.
And so we must do this co-absorbing, forgiving work with Christ, and often with Him only. Forgiveness is often something that has no tangible reconciling benefits. It's greatest and most important benefit is often simply the peace and freedom of our own souls.
Great stuff this morning from my courageous and faithful dental hygenist.
And no cavities.
My hygenist began sharing with me about the messy divorce she had been through and (knowing what I do) how the Lord had been showing her how crucial it was that she forgive her ex and his now wife.
As I listened to the pain mixed with hope (she was particularly aggressive with the dental floss as she talked about his wife) I was greatly encouraged: the process of forgiveness was in full-swing. The Lord was mopping up the anger and bitterness that threatened her soul.
And as she finished telling me her story, I was reminded of the crux of what is so difficult for all of us in this matter of co-absorbing with Christ someone else's sin: it feels like we're letting them off the hook.
For some reason it feels much better to stew, to be angry, to imagine them being re-paid for all their wrongs and to imagine that we might be privileged to participate in that re-payment..or at least get to see it.
But the reality is this: the anger and bitterness forged by un-forgiveness does not trap or ensnare or keep the other person under our power. Quite the opposite. To hold onto un-forgiveness is to give the other person power over us.
Simply stated: we must forgive others for the sake of our own souls. To do otherwise is only to do damage to ourselves.
Much to our chagrin, if we're honest about many situations where we feel forgiving someone else is necessary, they either don't even realize they hurt us or they don't care. Forgiveness is not something that the offenders in our lives often think that they need.
And so we must do this co-absorbing, forgiving work with Christ, and often with Him only. Forgiveness is often something that has no tangible reconciling benefits. It's greatest and most important benefit is often simply the peace and freedom of our own souls.
Great stuff this morning from my courageous and faithful dental hygenist.
And no cavities.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Forgiveness, Part 2
The invitation we talked about yesterday to participate in absorption rather than perpetuation is at the heart of all Christian understanding of forgiveness, not just as it relates to issues of family.
The world is full of brokenness. We were designed to live in a universe or 'operating system' that was brokenness-free. In other words, sin is alien to the design of our souls.
Jesus comes and he takes on that sin so that we might once again live as we were meant to. This is why the Scriptures are emphatic that he is the hope of the whole world, not just Jews or those who find him helpful in a therapeutic sort of way. His medicine is the medicine we all need: the absorption of sin, our own and the sin that has done damage to us.
This does not mean, of course, that people who are not Christians cannot forgive. Based on temperament and other factors we all have varying abilities and capacities for forgiveness.
But what Christ offers us is two-fold.
One, he has already shown that he has infinite capacity for the absorption of sin, both ours and that which has been done to us.
In other words, apart from Christ we are stuck with our own limited capacity to forgive. Eventually, no matter our temperament, we all become saturated. We have a limited capacity to forgive others, some of us have an even more limited capacity to forgive ourselves. That's when bitterness sets in.
Jesus has an infinite capacity for forgiveness. And he invites us to allow him to work in us to exercise that capacity. Even as it relates to the things that have hurt us the most. Even in the midst of our own self-hatred that results in voices of guilt and shame.
Infinite capacity to absorb sin. It has actually already happened.
Secondly, what Jesus has done once and for all is broken the power of sin. Absorption language is helpful but not complete; it's passive. Jesus absorbs our sin. But he also breaks the power of that sin and frees us to move in a positive, opposite direction.
This power means, as one example, that we are not bound to repeat cycles of family brokenness. Jesus has absorbed that sin and overcome it, it has not overcome him. He lives in us and we live in him.
This means that our baggage or anger or sin or victim-status no longer has to define who we are, how we parent, how we drive, how we relate to our parents or siblings or co-workers or friends. Jesus' victory gets to do that. Forgiveness gets to do that.
Here's the good news: brokenness and sin does not have the last word on us. Jesus can and does. We have been told the story of all sin and death and guilt and broken patterns overcome and the good news is this: hope wins.
The world is full of brokenness. We were designed to live in a universe or 'operating system' that was brokenness-free. In other words, sin is alien to the design of our souls.
Jesus comes and he takes on that sin so that we might once again live as we were meant to. This is why the Scriptures are emphatic that he is the hope of the whole world, not just Jews or those who find him helpful in a therapeutic sort of way. His medicine is the medicine we all need: the absorption of sin, our own and the sin that has done damage to us.
This does not mean, of course, that people who are not Christians cannot forgive. Based on temperament and other factors we all have varying abilities and capacities for forgiveness.
But what Christ offers us is two-fold.
One, he has already shown that he has infinite capacity for the absorption of sin, both ours and that which has been done to us.
In other words, apart from Christ we are stuck with our own limited capacity to forgive. Eventually, no matter our temperament, we all become saturated. We have a limited capacity to forgive others, some of us have an even more limited capacity to forgive ourselves. That's when bitterness sets in.
Jesus has an infinite capacity for forgiveness. And he invites us to allow him to work in us to exercise that capacity. Even as it relates to the things that have hurt us the most. Even in the midst of our own self-hatred that results in voices of guilt and shame.
Infinite capacity to absorb sin. It has actually already happened.
Secondly, what Jesus has done once and for all is broken the power of sin. Absorption language is helpful but not complete; it's passive. Jesus absorbs our sin. But he also breaks the power of that sin and frees us to move in a positive, opposite direction.
This power means, as one example, that we are not bound to repeat cycles of family brokenness. Jesus has absorbed that sin and overcome it, it has not overcome him. He lives in us and we live in him.
This means that our baggage or anger or sin or victim-status no longer has to define who we are, how we parent, how we drive, how we relate to our parents or siblings or co-workers or friends. Jesus' victory gets to do that. Forgiveness gets to do that.
Here's the good news: brokenness and sin does not have the last word on us. Jesus can and does. We have been told the story of all sin and death and guilt and broken patterns overcome and the good news is this: hope wins.
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