And forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us. … If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins. [Matthew 6:12,14-15 (NLT)]
It’s been nearly 50 years, but I’ll never forget that day when, out of anger and fear, I vowed, “I’ll never forgive him!” My husband and I had taken our three children shopping for school clothes. While I was busy with the eldest, my husband said he’d take the other two for a walk through the mall. Unknown to me, the three-year-old had convinced his father that he’d stay at the store, sit quietly in a little crawl-through hole by the store’s entrance, and wait for his dad’s return. Unfortunately, my husband never told me of that decision. Having the attention span of a gnat, the little guy quickly grew bored watching shoppers. After wandering into the store to hide in the clothes racks, he looked for his brother and me. Not seeing us (since we were in a changing room), the independent guy decided we’d left without him and calmly went looking for us in the mall parking lot. While I was paying for our purchases, my husband returned with only one child in tow. Almost simultaneously, with panic in our voices, we asked one another, “Where’s Scooter?” My imagination went wild with all the horrible things that could have happened to the youngster. In an instant, I decided I’d never forgive my husband for his carelessness and that our marriage would be over!
After the saleswoman made a call to mall security, we learned that a concerned woman had spotted the boy wandering in the parking lot sobbing because he was sure we’d left for home without him. She took him to security where he was enjoying a red lollipop. Through God’s good graces, his misadventure had a happy ending, but what if it hadn’t? While angrily deciding I’d never forgive my husband, it never occurred to me that he’d be hard put to forgive himself if our son was harmed in any way!
I thought of that episode after reading about a 5-year-old severely autistic child who’d wandered out of his house and was found drowned in a nearby pond. A few days later, I learned of a critically injured three-year old who’d fallen out of an industrial mowing tractor and been run over by his father. Unlike our story, those stories had sad endings. Several years ago, a friend’s grandchild died in another tragic accident. Wanting to go on a ride with his dad, the toddler had quietly left the house and was standing in the driveway when his father backed over the youngster. That accident ended up destroying a family through divorce and then the father’s suicide. Apparently, neither parent could forgive the other nor could they forgive themselves. I sometimes think of how my husband and I narrowly escaped a similar ending that day in the mall. Would we have forgiven ourselves and one another? How will the family of the child run over by that lawn mower or the parents of that special-needs child cope? Will they forgive each other? Will they ever forgive themselves? Or, as happened with our friend’s family, will one tragedy lead to others?
C.S. Lewis said, “Everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive.” Indeed, forgiveness isn’t easy and, sometimes, it seems nearly impossible. Nevertheless, we ask God to forgive us in the way we forgive others. It is hypocritical for us to ask God to forgive our sins if we withhold forgiveness from anyone else. Unless we want God to pick and choose among our sins and failings, we cannot pick and choose among the actions of those who’ve failed us. We don’t get to forgive the little transgressions and withhold forgiveness on the big ones unless we want God to do the same with us.
Instead of a mall cop and a three-year-old with a red lollipop, what if our story hadn’t ended well? I’d like to think that I would have forgiven my husband and our marriage would have survived and thrived. Only God knows—I certainly don’t and I thank Him for not putting me to the test!
To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you. [C.S. Lewis]
The hatred between Jews and Samaritans began in 930 BC when Solomon’s son Rehoboam was king and the united kingdom of Israel divided. Ten tribes rebelled and made Jeroboam king of the northern kingdom of Israel whose capital was Samaria. Only the tribes of Judah and Benjamin along with the Levitical priesthood remained in the southern kingdom of Judah. Fearing a change of alliance if people returned to Jerusalem to worship, Jeroboam set up his own worship centers in the north.
When writing about forgiveness these last few days, I wondered why we find it so difficult to forgive. Perhaps it’s because, in our troubled hearts, we want to even the score before doing so. Wanting to retaliate in some way, bitterness and resentment grow and eat at us until we can extract our pound of flesh.
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!
When Moravian missionaries first arrived in the Arctic, they found no single word in the Inuktitut language for forgiveness. That doesn’t mean the Inuit people didn’t let go of past wrongs, just that they didn’t have a single world for doing so. Since forgiveness is an essential concept in Christianity, the missionaries wanted a single word that captured the kind of forgiveness found in Psalm 103. Using Inuktitut words, they came up issumagijoujungnainermik meaning “not-being-able-to-think-about-it-anymore.” This 24-letter multi-syllable word beautifully describes the God who will “cast all our sins into the depths of the sea” [Micah 7:19], who vows to “forgive their iniquity, and…remember their sin no more,” [Jeremiah 31:34], and who promises to blot out our transgressions and not remember our sins.[Isaiah 43:25]
By forgiving people’s sins, Jesus was placing Himself in the role of God because only God can forgive sins. Had Jesus not been God, it would have been blasphemy. When He raised the dead, multiplied food, stilled storms, and healed incurable diseases, Jesus was doing other things that only God could do. His incredible claim that He could bring Himself back from the dead, something only God could do, was another way Jesus claimed His divinity. The undeniable proof of His claim came Easter morning when Jesus demonstrated power over both life and death. The tomb was empty and people saw the risen Christ—they heard Him speak, watched Him eat, saw His wounds, and touched Him. The forty days the resurrected Jesus remained on earth, however, is about more than proof of his claim to be God; it’s about proof of our relationship to God.
Devotions of the Heart 