The Fear of Forgiveness

One act can instill trepidation like no other: that of forgiving someone, or asking forgiveness for one’s self.

This is because, to admit the need to be forgiven, or to grant it, puts one in a terribly vulnerable position. 

It puts us in the total opposite of control and entrepreneurship over one’s self. It steals our independence and the entitlement to be self-righteous. It removes us from the habitually comfortable place of “being right” in which we secretly luxuriate.

To give or receive pardon forfeits the license we grant ourselves to hold and nurse a grudge; to sarcastically say ‘I’m sorry’ but not really mean it; and to justify the passive “getting back” at others. 

We see in the word “forgive” the word “give”: and that is exactly what we do when we ask for or impart forgiveness: we give ourselves release from guilt or sorrow over our words or actions when we say, “I’m sorry,” and we give someone else the same when we allow and accept their apology to us. 

When we cannot participate in the giving and receiving of forgiveness, I believe it means we are  weak—self-imposing a crutch of hurt and victimhood to get us through the day. To relinquish that crutch feels unsafe, unprotected—exposed. 

Even accepting forgiveness can be difficult: though we specifically ask for it—we may not believe it or think ourselves worthy of it when it comes. That is a form of narcissism that denies us and the other person the clearing of the slate for a new beginning.

In reality, what the rejection of any form of forgiveness signifies is immaturity.

Whenever I hear or observe someone reciting a very opinionated petty grievance about something that transpired years ago, I know I am witnessing an act of being unforgiving. Not only that, but the recounting often takes on a drama not commensurate with the “wrong.” 

What’s going on here is a lot more than an event that transpired 20 years ago. The sad reality is, the event never ended and is still going on. This is the trajectory of immaturity. 

Immaturity, though it flirts with growing up, never quite arrives. And so it continues to pollute and stink up the days and the years. 

Immaturity is why people never change. 

dictionary.com defines maturity as 

“ripeness; full development; perfected condition." 

In finance, it is “when a note or bill of exchange becomes due.”

So what maturity is, when we combine all definitions, is the ripe, full development of a person’s condition, having a due date.

This is where Christ comes in. 

Christ is the ticket, if you will, to our due date. He makes the exchange.

First, He is the Only One, in His Perfect Love, who is able to cast out fear from within us (1 John 4:18).

He is also the One who bears ripe fruit in us, who develops and perfects our condition, who brings us to our due-date—our maturity—through His power to transform (Romans 12:1-3; 2 Corinthians 5:21; Colossians 3:10; Galatians 5:22-24). 

We learn to forgive by receiving and experiencing His absolute forgiveness of us (John 3:16-17, 5:24; Romans 8:1-4; Ephesians 1:4-7, 2:8-9, 5:1-2). 

We grow in the knowledge of Him, and, as we do, increasingly desire to live as He is teaching us to live so that one aspect of His life—a major aspect of His person—forgiveness—can be imparted to and through us (2 Corinthians 5:19; Ephesians 1:7). 

It is only through Christ that the “coming due” of maturity in us transpires (Romans 6:6; 1 Corinthians 1:30; 2 Corinthians 3:18; Ephesians 1:3, 4:11-14, 22-24; Titus 3:5; Hebrews 10:16). 

Forgiveness, therefore, being a major aspect of “growing up” and into Christ, is one of the most mature things we can ever ask for, receive and deliver. 

When brought to full fruition, Christ-forgiveness frees not only from specific, petty grievances, but from the heinous, the tragic, the shattering and the ingrained wrongs, prejudices, abuses and insults. 

Forgiveness removes the residual power of evil (Romans 12:21). 

Anyone who has wrestled with God and persevered in the strain to allow Him to purge what we harbor, knows what I’m talking about (2 Corinthians 5:1-21; Hebrews 4:15-16). 

Breaking through with God to the light of His honest-to-goodness and lasting forgiveness is to experience the wonder of all wonders—the joyful maturity that explodes forth into every other area of life going forward, living the truth of Christ’s unequivocal commitment to indeed “make all things new” (Psalm 27:14; John 3:5; Romans 6:3-4, 8:12-38; 2 Corinthians 5:17; Galatians 2:20, 6:15; Ephesians 4:24, 5:8; Colossians 3:1-17; Titus 3:5; Hebrews 4:15-16; 1 Peter 1:3; 2 Peter 1:4; Revelation 21:5). 

copyright Barb Harwood

“So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you so also should you. Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful.” Colossians 3:12-15

A Heart Hardened by a Sense of Independent Strength

C.S. Lewis asks, in Mere Christianity, 

“To what will you look for help if you will not look to that which is stronger than yourself?”

The “stronger than yourself" to which Lewis refers is Christ.

Ahh, but that is the point: most people, if not all at some time, think themselves to be the strongest. And if they are not convinced they actually are yet strong, they are convinced that they ought to be, and therefore, can be. 

Even when engaging with doctors—schooled and trained through a decade or more—the average person can hold themselves in a position of superiority: second-guessing, outright disagreeing with, or grudgingly accepting the doctor’s diagnosis and prescription—all due to a lack of sincere and humble gratitude for their experience, perspective and willingness to help. 

Ditto for car mechanics, customer service reps, contractors, and government representatives.

However, and quite ironically, many folks have no problem whatsoever aggrandizing the experts who substantiate what they themselves have already concluded—patting themselves on the back that this expert only confirms what they have already surmised out of their own innate wisdom and intuition. The experts and their identities become blurred, imbuing their ego with strength.

This personal co-opting of strength from those deemed to be "legit" deludes one into believing it is wisdom home-grown from within. 

The common denominator in both the contrarian and adoring postures mentioned above quickly becomes apparent: pride in self and standing. 

We vehemently desire and strive to curate and maintain a position of personal strength, so that, if anything, other people must look to us, and we never have to look to anyone beyond an impersonal distant stranger whom we have ideologically adopted as our very own in order to sustain rule over ourselves and others—in attitude and motivation.

This is indeed a difficult nut to crack. A nut, I believe, only Jesus can crack. 

Why?

Because Jesus does none of that. 

“…who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men” (Philippians 2:6-7).

Jesus did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped! 

Humans try to gain this equality every day—spend their entire lives attaining to it—even if they reject the Biblical, or any other god, altogether. 

Because they still believe in a god—the god of self; their self. 

This is the person to be pitied, because first of all, they are not a god, and second of all, they are brick and mortaring themselves from Christ, thinking they are actually building themselves up. 

Christ indeed, out of love, continually reaches for them, gently or not so gently allowing the bricks to fall away so that this vulnerable sheep can be brought into His fold to finally and truly find the strength they so ambitiously strive after. 

We are familiar with Jesus’s tears for His sheep:

“When He approached Jerusalem, He saw the city and wept over it, saying, ‘If you had known in this day, even you, the things which make for peace! But now they have been hidden from your eyes” (Luke 19:41-42).

In Matthew and Luke Jesus implores the people to let him gather them to Himself as a hen does her chicks, but they would not let Him. 

In Luke 19, “even you” is very telling: 

even you….fill in the blank. 

even you who think yourself so smart, and perhaps are knowledgable about many things…

even you who work hard…

even you who do charitable acts…

even you who think yourself a good person….

even you who depend on no-one and are of strong reputation….

even you who never cries….

even you who think you know better….

even you of common-sense….

even you who are always helping others...

even you...

“For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10).

Those who attain to and believe only in their own ability to be strong do not acknowledge the necessity or privilege of conceding sincere reliance upon anyone stronger—that there is, in fact, one stronger with whom they can do this. And even if they submitted that there might be one stronger, they still assure themselves that they can do fine without that person.

Therefore, they remain ignorant of their lack and dire bearing. 

“…let him who thinks he stands take heed that he does not fall” (1 Corinthians 10:12).

He who “stands” remains lost in the delusion and idol of independent strength. 

copyright Barb Harwood

Check back for a future post on how we benefit from realizing our position of weakness…

What Eats Up Time?

What amount of time and energy do we commit to worrying, striving and trying to finagle ways to control actual or hypothetical situations?

It’s a question worth honestly investigating, because the answer will address the proverbial head-scratching inquiry, “Where does the time go?”

Think about it. 

What are the distractions—even while doing something we love, such as gardening or hiking—that block the experience of joy in the moment, and thus, make time seem to go faster than it otherwise would?

Now, those things I call “distractions” might actually be puzzles we need to figure out and moods we ought to work through as we meander through a meadow of late summer haze, or thin-out Irises in a perennial bed. 

But then there are other times—many of them—where we can’t focus on our son’s soccer game, or enjoy the dinner party, or relish our day off from work because of besetting animosities, vendettas, hurt feelings, missed opportunities and any number of dramas and mole hills that mar our contentment in the now. 

Each and every “shoulda", "what-if" and “having been wronged” is one grain in the sand of time collectively slipping quickly through the hour glass, dissipating life with it. 

So, what is the alternative?

To, just as we place ourselves under Christ’s Lordship, and receive Christ’s redemptive powers, we place and apply the seconds, minutes and hours of our lives under His Lordship and in His redemptive power as well.

“So teach us to number our days, 

That we may present to You a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12).

“Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:15-16).

What I am primarily talking about is thought-life: the racing ideas, speculations, perturbations, jumped-to conclusions, reactions and passionate surmising that either enamor or torment us as we go about daily life. 

It is why we don’t hear our children (often called being pre-occupied—sometimes labeled as a disorder of attention).

It is why we take our spouse for granted, making married love appear tired, mundane or something that can simply “take care of itself.”  

It is why we are easily offended. 

It is why “it” is never enough, or not what we “once had,” or what we had “hoped for.” Our protracted mental screenplay 

won’t 

let 

us 

alone. 

We need to make a prayer-decision with God to “stop it.” 

Stop the ruminating that exacerbates past situations, or doesn’t do anything to solve or change them. 

Stop straining for the “perfect” or most “awesome” or "impressive" future existence!! 

There is a place, certainly, of thinking things through, planning responsibly for the future and even possessing a goal or two. That is common sense.

I am talking about the unfruitful, incessant, and obsessive habit of the inner heart and mind that botches rest and contentment in the present—(and even if we’ve fallen short or hit a wall, we can, in Christ, still have rest and contentment!). 

A focus on lack strips away the humble Christian victory to be found in accumulated fruitful lessons and rich experiences.

It really is a case of not seeing the forest for the trees, with the trees being the glass half-empty and the forest being wonderfully made and knitted by God, in its entirety, in love. It is a forest of spiritual abundance in all aspects of life. 

“I am the door; if anyone enters through Me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10 9-10).

We swing from limb to limb in what God intends to be the blessed forest of life but we allow to be turned into a daily heist of the treasures and wisdom of God, leaving only negative attitudes, a consuming focus on reputation, fits of desperate scheming, regret, and self-centered nit-picking in its stealthy wake.

And the clock ticks. 

And time goes by. 

And is irretrievably, 

lost. 

Copyright Barb Harwood

They Bring Me Joy

We often find ourselves in the book of Psalms when the going gets rough.

But as I once again work my way through this collection of odes and shout-outs to God, I am implored as much to take joy in God as I am to take comfort. 

Praise Him, praise His Holy name. Remember all that He has done, since the beginning of creation. Recall all of the healing; the wide places of relief He has brought me to. Hear that it’s okay to have private worship; that it’s a high calling to sit quietly alone before the Lord and be still in Him.

One of my best friends likes to say she is “mucking out” the house when she’s cleaning. 

The Psalms are my “mucking out.” 

Regardless of my interior state, or when the world, Christian or otherwise, throws me for a loop, and I’m either complacent, jaded, or just really flummoxed, I enter the salvage yard of faith in the Psalms. There I locate all the parts of God that address the worn out in me; that regenerate a stale heart and humble a cocky attitude. 

At other times, when everything is fine and normal, the Psalms sweeten the hours so that the grandest blessing of all: simply feeling good and being alive, doesn’t go unnoticed. 

Anita Baker sings a song in which I always hear a quiet incredulity as she extols devotion to her lover, punctuating it with the refrain:

“You bring me joy.”

The Psalms are that.

They bring me joy—in the midst of trial, but also, more regularly, on a good day, with no sorrow in sight. 

They uplift to the peace and trust that goes beyond understanding. 

They bring me joy.

Copyright Barb Harwood

Tony Evans on Unforgiveness

From the book, Detours by Tony Evans:

"A lot of us are failing to reach our destination because we are still feeling loaded down by the pain of the past. The weight of yesterday continues to weigh us down today, keeping us from moving freely into tomorrow. Nothing--and I mean nothing--will hinder you arriving at your destiny like this thing called unforgiveness. Unforgiveness includes holding on to past pain, past hurts, past grudges--the weightiness of regret, remorse, and revenge. Unforgiveness is that one thing above all else that will block God's movement in your life taking you from where you are to where you are supposed to go." Dr. Tony Evans

Never Too Late With God

It may be too late with people, but never with God. 

Forgiveness is a funny thing with humans, but a very objective, thorough and complete thing with God.

So as we make peace, through Christ, with our demons, and turn over a new leaf in our process of regeneration, and begin once again to venture out amongst the people of our past as the healed, redeemed-from-our-nemeses-and-neuroses people that we are—“it," us—we may not be welcomed back. 

Now it is us who may be on the receiving end of the very same nemeses and neuroses that once drove our attitudes and actions. Or, other people may seek to indulge their own form of revenge or indifference to us.

Either way, the progress we’ve made with Christ is not trusted by them, or perhaps not even noticed (mainly because many who don’t know Christ don’t understand sin—mine or their own, and in fact even deny there is such a thing); or our growth and improved mental and emotional state may be despised. It might be resented because it didn’t come sooner, or because we were flawed to begin with. 

And when everyone, including us, takes everything personal, conflict and hurt feelings are seeded, bloom and become entrenched. It’s just a matter of whose court the ball of offense is now in. 

It is this very taking of things personal that Christ is and has been working to eradicate in my life, and the main reason I can, after 18 years of being born again in Him, indeed begin afresh now, free of much of the social and familial anxiety that has haunted and strangled me in the past. 

The blessing is that now when I see these same strangleholds in others, I don’t take it personally because these folks are simply where I once was. 

I have only compassion for them and can, through Christ, give them their space to lick their wounds, which, without Christ in their lives, will never fully heal. And even with Christ, can take a very long time to heal. 

My response is to pray that they, too, find Christ and freedom in Him from their priority of harboring offense. 

And that I will welcome them back when and if they ever want to be.

Copyright Barb Harwood