The Agony of Forgiveness
Finding grace when forgiveness hurts.
I recently looked into the eyes of a man charged with a horrific sexual assault crime and assured him that I would serve as an unbiased member of the jury and offer him a fair trial.
After a series of triggering and uncomfortable questions from a superior court judge and two lawyers about my own personal life experiences relating to sexual abuse, I found myself face-to-face with an accused man whose life I knew nothing about. Aside from a brief statement of charges related to the case, I had no evidence or testimony to consider whether he was innocent or guilty.
As he leaned forward in his chair so we could see one another, his eyes looked at mine with some expectation of my answer, but his gaze was empty, lifeless. I saw neither remorse nor guilt nor hope in them.
Could I presume him innocent? Could I be sure I would not let my bias interfere with my ability to serve? Would I be able to give him a fair trial?
I wanted him to see my sincerity. To know that I saw him. Not just as an accused criminal, but as a person. Valued. A child of God. I wanted him to know that guilty or not, I would refuse to see him as anything less. I wanted him to see Jesus. To feel grace.
Yes, I will. Yes, I can.
I held his gaze and answered calmly; and, I hope, kindly.
After two weeks, the court finally selected the jury. I waited in the final lineup to see if I would be called to serve. At the last moment, I was dismissed.
One of the first things I did when I got home was to look up his name on the internet. Until that point, I had followed the court rules not to seek out information about the case. Multiple articles popped up. I learned he had been on the state’s Most Wanted list after breaking parole and disappearing. One of his prior convictions was for sexual assault and had occurred years earlier, when he casually approached a young girl on the street and forced her into his car. Another involved a disabled woman whom he violently harmed. His current case included charges from a woman whom he allegedly held bound and captive for weeks, assaulting her day after day while repeatedly threatening to kill her.
As I read, I felt sick, angry, nauseous, and heartbroken for his victims. For a moment, I hated myself for trying to see this man as innocent, for my naivety in my knowledge of his criminal history, for seeking to connect with him in that courtroom, for my desire to extend kindness, mercy, and grace.
It made me shudder to know that he had even seen my face.
I wondered, had I known about his past, would I have been able to set aside my own thoughts and emotions and still held his gaze without judgment? Could I have looked past his sins and his crimes and truly seen him as a person, as a valued and loved child of God?
Because that is what he is.
And, yet...
That is what Jesus does for us. He chose us, when we didn’t choose Him. He loved us when we hated Him. He died for us, while we were still sinners. He took all our sin and iniquity and shame upon His shoulders and bore it for us.
He is willing to extend grace and to forgive.
And, this is what God calls us to do. Love your enemies. Pray for those who harm you and take advantage of you. Forgive and forgive again.
It feels impossible.
In my life, I have struggled with forgiveness. I grew up with this notion that you could forgive people and love them like Jesus and that somehow it would all be simple. That you could let things go. Forget. That the pain would stop. That, over time, it would be easy.
It is not.
More often, it feels like there is an invisible weight that clings to forgiveness, under which I feel incapable of standing. I fall again and again beneath the crushing nature of it. Frustration, bitterness, anger, resentment, the desire for vengeance. These things feel easier, less desperate, less painful. Safer.
I have often thought that forgiveness should feel like freedom. It should feel good. A good Christian should be able to smile and bless and shake off the implications of sin like water off a duck’s back.
But, sin is heavy and sticky. And, we have only to look to Jesus to see that the process of forgiveness is not simple.
I grew up with this notion that you could forgive people and love them like Jesus and that somehow it would all be simple. That you could let things go. Forget. That the pain would stop. That, over time, it would be easy. It is not.
I heard a pastor read a quote from a christian author that changed and deepened my perspective on what it looks like to forgive.
He shared:
“Forgiveness means refusing to make them pay for what they did. However, to refrain from lashing out at someone when you want to do so with all your being is agony. It is a form of suffering. You not only suffer the original loss of happiness, reputation, and opportunity, but now you forgo the consolation of inflicting the same on them.
You are absorbing the debt, taking the cost of it completely on yourself instead of taking it out of the other person. It hurts terribly. Many people would say it feels like a kind of death.
Yes, but it is a death that leads to resurrection instead of the lifelong slow death of bitterness and cynicism.
No one just forgives if the evil is serious. Everyone who forgives great evil goes through a death and into a resurrection and experiences nails, blood, sweat, and tears.
Everyone who forgives someone bears the other’s sins. Forgiveness is always a form of costly suffering.”
~ Timothy Keller, The Reason for God
When we forgive others, when we extend unmerited grace, we join Jesus in his suffering. It is painful, and it is not easy.
“Everyone who forgives someone bears the other’s sins. Forgiveness is always a form of costly suffering.” - Tim Keller
Past harm in my life from the sins of others has caused me to struggle with depression, anxiety, thoughts of self-harm, feelings of worthlessness, self-contempt and shame, inescapable longings for affirmation, and a pervasive sense of loneliness. God has healed and redeemed much in my life story, and I have found freedom from so many things that once held me captive. But, this work is unfinished and will likely be lifelong.
New pain and exposure to evil can sometimes so easily thrust me backwards, forcing me to reclaim ground I’ve already won.
Sometimes, it feels easier to shut down, disassociate, or isolate from the world. It is tempting to avert my gaze, to give in to fear, to not greet that stranger on the street, to not show hospitality or seek connection, community. To stay small and safe.
And, I have spoken to many of you and know that I am not alone in these thoughts and temptations.
Jesus too says that in the final days before His return, many will feel this way.
“Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold.” Matthew 24:12
Friends, when darkness and evil rise, we are called to grace. We are called to endure. We are called to love like Jesus, to be light piercing the darkness. We are vessels of mercy.
This is not to say that there is no place for justice, confrontation, assertiveness, boundaries, or necessary endings in relationships. Those are broad topics for another day.
But, our posture toward people should be in step with the Spirit. Jesus did not come to win this war as a lion with devouring judgment, but as the lamb with a servant’s heart and a willingness to sacrifice everything to redeem our hearts back to His love.
Because of His grace, our future is secure. Empires will fall, the Father of Lies will be defeated, and Jesus will come to our rescue, to bind up our wounds, to heal us completely, and to give us the victory.
Until then, how do we stand firm in the grace and love of God? How do we resist the temptation to let our hearts grow hard? How do we keep our love from growing cold? How do we continue to forgive, when it feels like death? How do we endure?
Scripture says,
“...encourage one another daily, as long as it is called “Today,” so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.” Hebrews 3:13
We rule with love. Our power is not in our ability to win arguments or seek revenge. Our power lies in how we comfort and encourage and serve one another well, in the midst of the battle.
We mourn with those who mourn, weep with those who weep. We bear one another’s burdens. We draw near to the brokenhearted. We provide for those who grieve. We remind each other that we are neither victims nor weak. We are more than overcomers. We are heirs with Christ.
We rule with love. Our power is not in our ability to win arguments or seek revenge. Our power lies in how we comfort and encourage and serve one another well, in the midst of the battle.
Friends, if you are struggling to forgive, take heart knowing that your diligence and faithfulness is holy. If you find it hard and painful, don’t condemn yourself. You are absorbing the debt. Give yourself grace, knowing that this process is not without pain. You are joining Jesus in His suffering.
And, do not despair. The agony of crucifixion Friday can not compare to the joy of resurrection Sunday. Our eternal future is secure. Our hope is safe in the hands of Jesus. He stands as both our Judge and our Defense, and His mercy endures forever.
What inspires me to forgive, even when it hurts, is that Jesus not only gave everything for my forgiveness, but He gave it willingly and with His whole heart. Scripture says Jesus endured the cross “for the joy set before Him.” He was willing to absorb the debt, to pay the price for my sin with all its pain and torment, because His desire to redeem me and restore our eternal life and relationship together was greater. He looks at me and sees past my sin and sees me as who I could be, the best version of myself, the person He created me to be. And, for that person, for our future joy together, He willingly laid down His life.
Likewise, we too can look beyond the sins and weaknesses of one another and see the beautifully-unique person God created. Gifted, invaluable, and loved. When we can open our eyes to see past the brokenness and sinfulness of this world, we begin to see with grace. Of course, it is difficult to see past pain. But, we can endure. Because, there is great joy set before us. Eternal joy. We are fully loved and fully forgiven.
Our hope is safe in the hands of Jesus. He stands as both our Judge and our Defense, and His mercy endures forever.
Jesus invites us to share and delight in His divine, unconditional, unrelenting love for us. He calls us to love one another deeply, as He has so deeply loved us. Jesus says, “Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold. But the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.” Matthew 24:13
Stand firm then. Love never fails. Grace wins.
Resurrection is coming.
