GK Chesterton often critiqued “common” wisdom. In fact, such critiques served as starting points for his essays. Seeing a well-dressed young man walking briskly by, Chesterton’s companion said, based on nothing more than appearance: “That man is going places.” Chesterton wondered about the assumptions that would so confidently result such a judgment. It was the detective in him, after all, that created the Father Brown mysteries.
Chesterton would have found even more material in our time, attracted as we are to slogans, memes, and words that fit on bumper stickers. When we actually examine such things, we may notice some faulty assumptions. In fact, in an actual bullring “grabbing the bull by the horns” is a terrible idea.
There are assumptions often make about forgiveness.
I have heard people say that you have to forgive yourself first, as if this were incontrovertible. Moreover, what such a statement leaves unspoken is what self-absolution really means and how it can truly be accomplished.
Jesus never spoke about forgiving oneself. He did, however, extend forgiveness. In fact, the forgiveness for which Jesus prayed at the end of his life was extraordinary not only because it was in the midst of his own suffering, but also because it was offered before the offenders were sorry. “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they are doing.” It is not a transactional forgiveness, extended only to the sufficiently contrite, a model with which we have become too familiar. It is distinctive, gracious, and challenging. The words Jesus spoke from the cross as he was dying, in fact, echo what he taught in his living “Love your enemies.” Jesus still intrigues and inspires us because his words were profoundly integrated in his own life and behavior.
It is often said that forgiveness is primarily about oneself, that it is a self-gift. It is undoubtedly the case that forgiving lifts a burden that we need not carry. It can free us. But such a statement clearly wouldn’t apply to Jesus on the cross who had so little time remaining to him. His words about forgiveness instead suggest that there is a larger story of which we are a part, a spiritual story, and that we have a part to play that models the gracious life we are invited to live.
When we think of forgiveness transactionally or as a self-serving act, we ignore what Jesus taught and modeled. Forgiveness, in fact, may be the ultimate expression of love. It is grounded in a love which is both giving and forgiving. Forgiveness is not simply a command for occasions of offense. It is a concrete expression of a generous life.
The Lord’s Prayer connects the forgiveness of God with our own forgiving.
It is a love intended to make us more loving, a grace intended to make us more gracious. The gracious forgiveness of Jesus from the cross echoes the generosity of Christmas, “for God so loved the world, he gave his Son.” The Lord’s prayer helps us to understand the source of forgiveness but also the importance of the part we were created to play.
It really doesn’t make much sense to think of forgiveness as a gift, if it is primarily about helping oneself. And while the Bible describes it as a gift freely given, it does need to be received. Dietrich Bonhoeffer described our attraction to “cheap grace.” But even for a free gift, you may have to sign a receipt with UPS. We may have to acknowledge something, make room for something new, and allow the gift to touch and impact our life. It is not a gift to be ignored. It is the greatest gift we can receive.
