Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.” [Matthew 18:21-22 (RSV)]
When writing about issumagijoujungnainermik, the Inuit word for forgiveness, I came across a word in the Tshiluba language spoken by the Bantu of the Congo: ilunga. Because isumagijoujungnainermik is made up of several Inuit words, it easily translates as “not-being-able-to-think-about-it-anymore.” Like issumagijoujungnainermik, ilunga has to do with forgiveness but, unlike the Inuit word, it resists an easy translation. In fact, back in 2004, 1,000 linguists gave it the questionable honor of being the world’s “most difficult” word to translate!
Although the official English definition of ilunga is “a person who is ready to forgive any abuse for the first time, to tolerate it a second time, but never a third time” seems straightforward, it misses the cultural nuance. While we might think of it as a “three-strikes-and-you’re-out” kind of person, an ilunga’s tolerance for the offense lessens with the situation and frequency. Worse, ilungas would never practice issumagijoujungnainermik because they need to remember and keep count of every offense! I wonder, do they keep a little scorecard in their back pocket? Do we?
I don’t think Hebrew or Aramaic have a word like ilunga but Jewish tradition held a similar attitude of limits on forgiveness. Although forgiveness was valued, the rabbis taught that it was reasonable to forgive a person only three times for the same offense. By the fourth offense, they believed there was no reason or need to forgive! Considering this Jewish tradition, when Peter asked Jesus how many times he should forgive, I suspect the disciple thought seven times was more than generous. Jesus, however, rejected Peter’s calculations with His answer: “Not seven times…but seventy times seven.” Rather than setting an upper level of 490 on forgiveness, Jesus was using hyperbole. His numbers alluded to Genesis 4 in which God promised a sevenfold punishment on anyone who killed Cain and Lamech later called for a seventy-sevenfold punishment on anyone who harmed him. Jesus’ answer told Peter that our forgiveness is to be as excessive as the vengeance for which Lamech called.
To cement His point, Jesus continued with the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant in which the unforgiving servant owed the King an incalculable amount of money. Even though the servant’s immense debt was forgiven by the King, he refused to forgive a fellow servant a debt just one six-hundred-thousandth of that amount! When the King learned of this, he withdrew his forgiveness and tortured the unforgiving man until the debt was paid.
Since repaying the King the equivalent of billions of dollars was an impossibility, this appears to be a reference to judgment and eternal damnation. On the other hand, it simply may refer to severe discipline from God in this life. Regardless of how this threat is interpreted, it is clear that God will not treat our unforgiveness lightly! Scripture tells us that the way we forgive is how God will forgive us; if we keep count like an ilunga, so will He! Jesus’ parable tells us that no number of offenses against us can compare with our innumerable offenses against God—anything owed to us is but a pittance compared to what we owe to Him.
In light of God’s extravagant and infinite grace to us, we are not to be like an ilunga and our forgiveness of others is not to be limited by the frequency or quantity of the offense. The unlimited forgiveness God extends to us is the kind of forgiveness we must extend to others!
To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you. [C.S. Lewis]
Following Jesus’ resurrection, the Apostles met regularly at the Temple where they boldly preached and healed the sick. Alarmed at this turn of events, the high priest and his officials had the men put in jail. That night, an angel freed them and told the men to return to the Temple and speak to the people there.
In 1 Kings 21, we learn of Naboth, the owner of a vineyard adjacent to King Ahab’s palace in Jezreel. A choice piece of real estate, Ahab wanted it for himself and offered to purchase or exchange it for other land. Property, however, wasn’t to be treated as a real estate investment—it was to remain in the family to which it had been allotted. Because Jewish law prohibited Naboth from selling his ancestral land, he rejected the king’s offer. Angry at his neighbor’s refusal’s, Ahab acted like a spoiled child, took to his bed, and refused to eat. Upon learning the reason for her husband’s sulking, Jezebel hatched a devious plan. She arranged for false accusations to be made against Naboth that would result in his immediate death. Jezebel’s evil plot went as planned and, upon news of their neighbor’s death, she told Ahab the land was his and he took it for himself!
With few exceptions, when we find mention of pride in Scripture, it has a negative connotation. It refers to arrogance, conceit, disrespect, haughtiness, and effrontery. Often called stubborn, insolent, willful, and selfish, prideful people don’t fare well in Scripture. Consider Pharaoh whose pride made him stubbornly defy the power of God; as a result, his entire nation suffered plague after plague, he lost his eldest son, and his entire army was decimated. Lucifer’s insolence and pride got him evicted from heaven. Nebuchadnezzar’s conceitful boasting resulted in the king living as a field animal and eating grass for seven years! When arrogant King Uzziah overstepped boundaries and burned incense in Temple (something only priests could do), the proud king became an outcast leper. Indeed, “pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.” [Proverbs 16:18]
In a book about evangelism, the author wrote of bringing a new believer into his office and the two of them saying the “Sinner’s Prayer.” After the new believer repeated the Pastor’s words, he was pronounced saved. While there is no official version of this “sinner’s” prayer, it probably goes something like this: “God, I know that I am a sinner and that I deserve to go to hell. I believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross for my sins. I do now receive Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior. Thank you, Lord, for saving me and forgiving me! Amen.” Many evangelical Christians speak of saying some sort of prayer like this at the moment of conversion. Is a special “Sinner’s Prayer” a requirement for salvation?
Heather Kaufman’s novel Up From Dust is historical fiction. Based on what Scripture tells us about Martha of Bethany, her sister Mary, and their brother Lazarus, it gives the reader a fictionalized version of their backstories. Kaufman’s extensive research for the novel allowed her to paint a vivid and accurate picture of 1st century life in Judea. Even though the story is a figment of her imagination, it reminded me that the people who spent time with the Lord while He walked on earth were real (and flawed) people like us—each with their own personal history. Ordinary people with parents, friends and, for some, spouses and children, they had jobs, responsibilities, secrets, regrets, and weaknesses. Like us, they were people who worried, disagreed, cried, laughed, loved, rejoiced, and mourned. The only thing that made them different from their neighbors was their love for a man called Jesus!
Devotions of the Heart 