Forgiveness

“To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable, because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you.” – C.S. Lewis

Can we get this?

In my observation, one of the most deadening poisons to a Christian soul is the inability, or rather unwillingness, to forgive. Hurts and wounds, that are often (but not always) very real, can be nursed, nourished, watered, and tended for years.

We’ve been working through the Sermon on the Mount in the College and Young Singles class for the past few months. Last week I got to teach on Matthew 6:1-18 (my notes here). It contains this jarring statement from Jesus:

“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.” Jesus makes a point in this passage to reiterate that aspect of the Model Prayer (Matthew 6:8-13) that deals with forgiveness.

I’ve learned, when teaching on Jesus, to pay close attention to the things He chooses to repeat in His teaching.

I’ve discovered that forgiveness is a favorite topic of repetition for Jesus. For example, consider Matthew 18:21-22, which is followed by the devastating parable of the unforgiving servant starting in verse 23.

Jesus wants us to forgive. He knows how much forgiveness costs. He knows the agony of the whips and the nails. But that was His mission. Thank God He didn’t consider forgiving us to be impossible.

Why do we so often feel that forgiving others is an out-of-the-question non-starter?

Forgive.

Forgiveness

Maybe you’re having trouble with forgiveness because you’ve been badly burned by someone. Someone has abused you, offended you, cheated on you, or wronged you in some way. Maybe there’s a huge chasm between you and someone you love (or want to love). You understand intellectually that you ought to forgive, but the idea is so painful because of what this person has done to you. Your spirit is willing but your flesh is weak. You may have thought at some point while reading this chapter, That’s easy for you to say. You don’t know what I’ve been through.

You’re right; I probably don’t know what you’ve been through. But that emotion you’re feeling right now, that weight, that discomfort you feel when you ponder the gravity of forgiving such huge wrongs against you, is a taste of the scandal of grace.

I’m not sure I can even express this strongly enough: grace is scandalous. It’s unbelievable. It’s weird. It’s nonsensical. It disturbs us and confuses us. It burns.

But it heals.

Jared C. Wilson, Your Jesus is Too Safe, Chapter 3: Jesus the Forgiver

The Bride was beautiful

Take a look at these pictures if you can. The Bride was beautiful.

Beautiful

Katie Kirkpatrick, 21, held off cancer to celebrate the happiest day of her life. Katie had chased cancer, once only to have it return-to clog her lungs and grab hold of her heart. Breathing was difficult now, she had to use oxygen. The pain in her back was so intense it broke through the morphine that was supposed to act as a shield. Her organs were shutting down but it would not stop her from marrying Nick Godwin, 23, who was in love with Katie since 11th grade.

Five days later, Katie died. She did not let sickness stop her from living, take away the hope or faith that made her believe she had a future. She had a lovely wedding and she had love and she gave love and love doesn’ t die. And that is how Katie beat cancer.

[H/T: Challies]

Seven Stanzas for Easter

Make no mistake: if he rose at all

It was as His body;

If the cell’s dissolution did not reverse, the molecule reknit,

The amino acids rekindle,

The Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,

Each soft spring recurrent;

It was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled eyes of the

Eleven apostles;

It was as His flesh; ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes

The same valved heart

That–pierced–died, withered, paused, and then regathered

Out of enduring Might

New strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,

Analogy, sidestepping, transcendence,

Making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the faded

Credulity of earlier ages:

Let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache,

Not a stone in a story,

But the vast rock of materiality that in the slow grinding of

Time will eclipse for each of us

The wide light of day.

And if we have an angel at the tomb,

Make it a real angel,

Weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair, opaque in

The dawn light, robed in real linen

Spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,

For our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,

Lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are embarrassed

By the miracle,

And crushed by remonstrance.

Seven Stanzas for Easter – John Updike

[Hat tip: Andrew]

Overheard over at Gospel Driven Church

Hey, today, why not pray that God will overfill your cup with grace. So when Uncle So-and-so is picking on you, when Grandma is comparing you with your more successful cousin, when Mom or Dad is doing that passive aggressive thing about why you don’t come home more often (when you happen to be home right now! gosh! :-), endure. Endure and respond with love.

Make it your little secret. Inside you will feel like you’re winning a secret battle.

Vomit grace all over the table, horn-o’-plenty centerpiece and all. Be Jesus at that table and overturn it with kindness.

From Jared’s Thanksgiving encouragement post. Go read the whole thing.

The iMonk eats some crow

Willingly.

I found this very inspiring. And not so much because of the controversy that is the subject matter of the post, though I’m pretty sure I agree, limited as my understanding is on the subject, with every word Michael says here.

It’s more than that. I am consistently inspired by people who are willing to publicly admit they may have said or written something unfair in the past, and who are publicly willing to affirm ones that others are trashing, and who write with such generosity and grace (and skill).