Forgiveness and "bad" feelings

25 Because the servant didn’t have enough to pay it back, the master ordered that he should be sold, along with his wife and children and everything he had, and that the proceeds should be used as payment. 26 But the servant fell down, kneeled before him, and said, ‘Please, be patient with me, and I’ll pay you back.’ 27 The master had compassion on that servant, released him, and forgave the loan. Matthew 18:25-27, CEB

We have gotten accustomed, in our culture, to perceiving forgiveness in terms of our emotions only. The most common definition, I would guess, goes something like this: Forgiveness is what happens when all my negative feelings about my wrongdoer are gone. It’s such a common definition, in fact, I suspect many might be thinking, “Of course that’s forgiveness. What else is there?”

Yesterday we talked about forgiveness in money-lending as refusing to demand repayment (or refusing to take action in the form of punishment). We see that again in this parable. We see no indication of how the master may have felt, other than compassion, which does not mean he didn't have other, more complicated feelings as well. In a few days time, we're going to examine in detail how we could apply this mentality (refusing to demand repayment) to our own forgiveness situations. But first, this:

I’ve spent the past few weeks reading about and lamenting the sexual abuse scandal that continues to plague Christianity. I’m not a naturally empathetic person but my heart breaks for those victims, their families, their congregations, their communities. I can't help but be dissatisfied in our culture's definition of forgiveness and its focus on feelings. How will a sexually abused child ever get rid of all of their negative feelings towards their abuser?

We could answer this in one of two ways. When we’re locked into a definition of forgiveness that is about emotions we’re stuck with this answer: God has to do it. There’s an element of truth to that of course. There is no forgiveness without God and God is actively involved in all acts of forgiveness. All the same, this strikes me as a somewhat unsatisfying answer on the whole. And I have two reasons for this.

1. Some people have been harmed too greatly to get past their negative emotions.

2. If we simply say, “God has to do it,” then we are not wrestling deeply enough with the question of how we encourage people to practice forgiveness. God needs to be active for forgiveness to take place, but we must also be active. If we do not need to act, then why does God encourage us to be forgiving?

More to come.

Forgiveness and Biblical Metaphors

Every seventh year you must cancel all debts. 2This is how the cancellation is to be handled: Creditors will forgive the loans of their fellow Israelites. They won’t demand repayment from their neighbors or their relatives because the Lord’s year of debt cancellation has been announced.

Deuteronomy 15:1-2, CEB

In Deuteronomy 15, God encourages his people to take care of one another, and to lend money freely. He tells the people that he will bless them such that there will be enough to go around. Generosity will not be a burden on the generous. In fact, he instructs his people that, every seven years, debts owed should be cancelled by the lender. This is done so that there will be no poor among God’s people, so that no one will acquire a debt that becomes too overwhelming.

This passage is, on the surface, about economics. It’s also about more than that. It lays the groundwork for one of the most primary metaphors used in scripture, and by Jesus himself, for understanding interpersonal forgiveness.

In the example of money-lending, forgiveness is the result of the lender not demanding repayment from the borrower. Forgiveness is not so much what the lender does to the borrower, but what the lender does not do. The lender does nothing when they could have done something (such as demand repayment or some other form of compensation, like throwing the borrower in jail).

I’ll say more about this tomorrow. But, in the mean time, think about this: What if forgiveness is an action? What if forgiveness is about something as simple as not demanding compensation for wrongdoing?

What is left to work with?

A few days ago I wrote that some of life’s difficulties are so great that we feel that we lose a piece (or pieces) of ourselves that we can never get back.  When this happens, life can feel meaningless or purposeless. We question whether or not we can go on. What is the point in going forward if we’re broken, if we are a shell of ourselves?  

If that is the place you are in, that may be a question you have to answer for yourself.  I’m not arrogant enough to think that I can provide you with the sense of meaning and purpose you need to persevere with a few words in a blog post.  But, when I have had my own low, dark moments, one of the things that helps me persist is to ask myself this question: What do I have left to work with?  

Here’s why I like this question:  It suggests to me that it’s okay to be broken, and it’s okay to be damaged, and it’s okay to feel that we are not all that we once were.  Yet, just because we’re damaged doesn’t mean we’re destroyed. There is still something there to work with. We still have something to offer to our family, our friends, loved ones, community.  God has plenty to work with, and I say this for two reasons. 1. He can create as much as he needs from whatever is available and 2. God routinely works through damaged people anyway. In other words, he doesn’t need us to be particularly capable in order to make use of us.  

If you’re feeling stuck in life, if you’re feeling hopeless, if you’re struggling with acceptance, if you’re filled with contempt, then I’d humbly suggest you ask yourself:  What is left to work with?

Even if you’re particularly damaged, I believe there is more than enough.

What kind of comfort helps?

11 All his brothers, sisters, and acquaintances came to him and ate food with him in his house. They comforted and consoled him concerning all the disaster the Lord had brought on him, and each one gave him a qesitah and a gold ring.  

~ Job 42:11, CEB

What kinds of things truly offer comfort to those who are hurting?  

I have found it helps to listen, for starters.  Some of you may say, “I’m not really a good listener!”  That’s okay- listening is easy to pretend. Just don’t talk.  Allow the other person room to talk. If you can’t actively listen because of fear or anxiety or some such thing (which is normal) just sit silently and be uncomfortable.  You can do it.

Some level of distraction can be comforting.  I’m not talking about going and getting drunk or high- I’m talking about being distracted by things that are reasonably healthy (or not harmful).  My friends take me out to play golf when I need comfort and we laugh about how much we suck at golf. It helps.

Simple things are often what bring comfort, as opposed to grand gestures.  A hug can be very comforting. A card or note can bring comfort. Simply acknowledging that you know that a hurting person is hurting can provide that person comfort.  It helps knowing that other people see your pain.

When we’re comforted, we realize we’re not alone.  When we know we’re not alone we gain strength. When we gain strength we can move in the direction of acceptance (even if it takes a while).  

What else would you add to the list?

Comfort Fosters Acceptance

11 All his brothers, sisters, and acquaintances came to him and ate food with him in his house. They comforted and consoled him concerning all the disaster the Lord had brought on him, and each one gave him a qesitah and a gold ring.  

~ Job 42:11, CEB

Life sometimes throws things at us that are so difficult that we feel as if we lose a piece of ourselves that we will never regain.  When this happens, it’s appropriate to sit with the loss and to mourn, to grieve. Our faith does not compel us to pretend as if the loss did not happen.  Let’s remember- even after Job reconciles with God, he is still in need of comfort.

Comfort, too, fosters acceptance.  Let’s try to be clear about what constitutes “comfort”, though.  Truisms are not comfort. Cliches are not comfort. Being told that things are not really that bad is not comfort.  Being told that things will get better is not comfort.  As a general rule, people know that things will get better.  What I mean is, we generally recognize that our low points are low points, and that we will not feel so low forever.  

What do you find truly comforting when you are at a low point?