“14 For if you forgive people their wrongdoing, your heavenly Father will forgive you as well. 15 But if you don’t forgive people, your Father will not forgive your wrongdoing.” – Matthew 6:14, 15 (HCSB)
If you’ve been to church for any amount of time or grown up in a Christian household, you’ve probably heard this verse a hundred times. Forgiveness is pertinent in scripture; it is a recurring theme; it is why Jesus died on the cross – so that we could receive the free gift of grace and forgiveness from our heavenly Father. Forgiveness is tough. It involves laying down your pride and humbling yourself. It involves dying to your flesh. To extend that grace and forgiveness towards someone who has wronged us or hurt us isn’t something we naturally want to do, but it’s something we have to do. And it’s not something we have to do just once, but the Lord commands we forgive 70 times 7 . . . that’s 490 times.
There is a parable of the unforgiving servant (Matthew 18:21-35). This servant came before his master in extreme debt and he could not pay; the just and right action against him would have been to make him sell all he had to cover the debt, however his master had mercy on him and forgave all of his debt. Later, a man came to the servant, who owed him just a little, miniscule amount, but he could not pay, so the servant threw him in prison. When the master found out about this, he ordered for his servant to come to him and yelled, “You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?” Then the slave was taken into prison to be tortured until he could pay back his debt that he owed. The parable is followed by Matthew 18:35: “So my heavenly Father will also do to you if each of you does not forgive his brother from his heart.”
It’s not in us naturally to forgive. Only Jesus living in us gives us that ability to fight our flesh, fight our pride, humble ourselves, and forgive. Last year before I came on the Race, I realized I hadn’t forgive my father. My flesh justified it. Lies filled my head, telling me that he doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. That what he did was too terrible. That I didn’t have to forgive him. That God would understand . . . Whenever I confronted this, I was asked, “Do you want to forgive your dad?” And my honest response at that time was, “No. I hate him. I can’t forgive him.” But God planted truth in my soul that night. The truth that God has forgiven me for all my offenses against Him, and all that I’ve done against my heavenly Father is so much worse and grievous than what my earthly father has done to me and my family. In a matter of hours, God changed my heart; I laid down my pride and I was able to humble myself. I prayed and prayed and begged God to plant forgiveness in my heart. And He did. He was faithful. I’ve forgiven my father. God gave me His eyes for my dad and He planted His love for my father into my heart. It is such a good work that He has done in me.
This past Saturday, we wrote letters of forgiveness that we burned as an offering to God. Whenever I sat down to write mine, I thought I would just need to write one to my dad, even though I’d already forgiven him. So I wrote to him, but I found that, instead of forgiving, my letter consisted of heartfelt apologies. I was sorry for not being there for him. I was sorry for not realizing his attempts at just spending time with me, and instead wanting to be anywhere but with him. I was sorry for not letting him love me when he was willing. I was sorry for not taking his illness seriously. I was sorry for taking advantage of his time here on earth. I was sorry for not getting to know him more. I was sorry for running away from our relationship instead of pressing into it. I was sorry for any time I said that I hated him. I was sorry for not having compassion and grace towards him. I was sorry for all these things, and God said in a still small whisper . . . “What if you need to forgive yourself?”
Whenever we think of forgiveness, we think of all the people who have wronged us. All the people who have hurt us. All the people who’ve intentionally or unintentionally done things against us. But how often to we put ourselves in the shoes of the brother we need to forgive. What if God wasn’t just commanding that we forgive others for their trespasses against us, but that we also needed to forgive ourselves for the ways we’ve hurt others, or the ways we’ve hurt ourselves? So I wrote a forgiveness letter to myself that day. Anything I felt guilt over, I forgave myself for. I laid it all down at the cross. At least that day I did; but I think I picked it back up. See, some things we have to continually lay down at the cross. And each time we do, we leave a little more there, and take a little less back. It’s a process that I’m just beginning.
I challenge you to examine your life. Write a letter of apology; just begin with the words “I’m sorry for . . .” and go from there. Then once you recognize the guilt you are holding onto, forgive yourself. Write yourself a letter and give it to God. Burn it, or do whatever you felt led to do with it. Our pride may tell us, “There’s nothing you need to say you’re sorry for,” but instead of listening to your flesh, lay your pride down and pick up humility . . . we all have things we are sorry for. We all have things we need to forgive ourselves for. This could be your chance to begin the process of finding peace. You just need to take the first step . . .
