The Delight of Forgiveness

Somewhere along the way many of us have gotten a bad taste in our mouth when it comes to forgiveness. We readily want and accept this spiritual staple ourselves without a second thought or question, but few of us readily dole out forgiveness to friends, family, or anyone who has really slighted even in the smallest sense.  

Forgiveness has become one of the least loved pieces of following Jesus. So many other aspects of genuinely loving and following the Lord seem to cost us much less. We can give our time and energy to serve our community, our neighbors, and our friends. We give financially to support local churches and missionary work abroad. We laud defending the weak, the poor, the oppressed, the widow and the orphan – and for good reason since God expects and commands us to do so (James 1:27). Each of these pieces of practicing our faith does cost us something – but the benefit, the blessing we get in return for being obedient, is immediate. We can see hungry bellies being filled with food we provide. We can see our neighbors enjoying a warm home this winter because we stepped in and paid the electric bill after they lost their job. We can see a group of young men on a football team radically change as their coaches spend years investing and leading them. These are all great endeavors and the work God does in and through us sometimes even provides us with encouraging sight into how the Lord has used us.

But why is forgiveness so hard? Why does it feel like such a duty. For many of us we here Jesus command, “if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will refuse to forgive you,” (Matt. 6:15) and begrudgingly think, “alright, I will forgive you for this, but only because I have to.” For most of us, there is very little joy in forgiving.

I think we have forgotten and important, liberating truth: there is delight in forgiveness. We should be ready to forgive precisely because God found great joy, delight even, in forgiving us; and when we forgive, we too can delight in it. Forgiveness brings delight.

What Forgiveness Is Not

Before we think any further about forgiveness, we must first clearly understand what forgiveness is not. This may seem silly and unnecessary, but so many of us, myself included, find forgiveness laborious and dreadful because we do not really understand what it is not.

Many of us grew up under the lie that forgiveness means pretending. Playing along that we never really were hurt. From being picked on at the dinner table by our siblings to finding yourself victim to unwarranted ridicule on the football field to the constant, belittling comments from your boss, we all daily are the focus of actions by others that for one reason or another, aggravate, irritate, and in some cases, deeply hurt us. We all rightly move along from many of these little cuts and scrapes. No one can make it through life with paper-thin skin. But we all have days when the wrong comment, email, or conversation sinks in to our hearts and festers.

Then of course we are all aware of the catastrophic sins of our day that no thick skin can truly protect against. From rampant fatherlessness (43% of homes are without a stable, consistent father figure according to the U.S. Census) to sexual assault (around 20% of children are attacked before their 18^th birthday, 75% of them by people they knew and trusted), our world is coming unhinged with egregious crimes and sins against one another. And the lie many of us believe in the midst of it all? Forgiveness means pretending it never happened.

Failing to acknowledge sin’s painful effects crushes us. We may not be able to place our finger on why it feels so off, but we know we have been cheated when we believe the lie that we merely need to move on. This robs us – forces us to bury and leave unresolved very real injuries.

For extreme cases like fatherless homes, such denial and pretending is often devastating: 63% of children and teenagers who commit suicide come from fatherless homes while 70% of all students in juvenile detention facilities come from a home without a dad. There certainly is no exact correlation here – not all fatherless children commit suicide or are incarcerated. These statistics do show however, a severe degree of pain and heartache. How dare we dismiss or minimalize such pain with a false forgiveness that squelches someone’s suffering. Would we trust and follow the direction of a doctor who tells us a gunshot to the chest requires no medical attention? Neither should we cover up and leave unattended and un-healed the bruises, cuts, and sometimes deep gashes that come to us in life. To believe forgiveness is pretending is to believe a lie. To believe that lie, is to rob ourselves and others of joy.

God Pays the Debt

Forgiveness is letting go of a rightly held debt. We see this when we say “So-and-so’s debt was forgiven.” What bank would tell us they forgave us our debt if we did not in fact owe them money?

True forgiveness is more than just playing along with an illusion. It means acknowledging that someone has wrongly caused us pain – sometimes minor sometimes life-changing – and that unearned, unwarranted discomfort has placed them in debt to us. We did not deserve whatever we got – a sharp word, getting bypassed wrongly for a promotion, or assault or worse. The pain we experience is the result of sin. Wrongdoing is the culprit and we are not foolish or weak for acknowledging the hurt it has caused.

 False forgiveness pretends the wrong never occurred and tells us to bury whatever pain and discomfort we feel. But God practices forgiveness in a radically different way. Read any of the Old Testament prophets and what do we find – the unbelievably wickedness of God’s people and His anger against them. In His anger against their wrongdoing, God promised:

Because you despised what I tell you and trust instead in oppression and lies, calamity will come upon you suddenly. It will be like a bulging wall that bursts and falls. In an instant it will collapse and come crashing down. You will be smashed like a piece of pottery – shatter so completely that where won’t be a piece left that is big enough to carry coals from a fireplace or a little water from a well. (Isaiah 30:12-14).

In examining the wrongs of His people, God does not shy away from their sin. He calls it for what it is – oppression and deceit (among other things). After detailing their sins, the Lord acted as Judge, pronouncing the debt they owed to Him. The just and right punishment for the inexcusable wrongs? Sudden disaster and destruction. Elsewhere Isaiah and other prophet’s describe this coming, earned punishment as “crying in public squares and in every street…for I will pass through and destroy them all,” (Amos 5:16-17). There is no offer of some neutered forgiveness or hope of pretending all is well. God faces sin squarely, face-to-face, and declares the debt it causes. Wrong must be punished. The wrongdoer must pay the penalty – the debt – of their sin. God minces no words here – evil places us in deep debt to Him and He will not turn a blind eye to the pillaging of His creation by our evil hearts and deeds.

Astonishingly though, God does not insist that we pay our debt of sin. Isaiah 53 shows us entirely the opposite – that God offers to face sin squarely for us and the debt on our behalf so that we can be rescued. Speaking of the future work of Jesus, Isaiah wrote, “When he sees all that is accomplished by his anguish he will be satisfied. And because of what he has experienced, my righteous servant will make it possible for many to be counted righteous, for he will bear all their sins,” (Is. 53:11).

In one simple verse we see the delight of forgiveness. Jesus offers us forgiveness, but He does not do so lightly. His justice and integrity demand that wrongdoing be punished; sin’s debt must be paid. But rather than force us to pay that debt ourselves, He steps in our place and pays the debt of many. God did not flinch to pay the price of sin. He did not pretend our misdeeds were really childish offenses easily forgiven. No, He chose the long, blood-soaked path that demanded death as just payment of sin. His death paid our debt.

His response after His sacrifice is equally shocking – delight. Isaiah wrote that He was “satisfied” when He saw what His death and anguish achieved: sin was punished, debt was satisfied, people were freed. The result is joy. I often struggle to believe that God finds joy in forgiving us. We often default to assuming God is an impatient Father, tapping His foot and shaking His head while watching us, all the while wondering “when will I get to stop bailing them out.” But God gives us a vastly different picture – He finds great joy, delight even, in forgiving – in acknowledging our wrongdoing and the debt it places us in and then stepping in graciously to pay that price himself so that He can free us from the bondage of sin. For God, forgiveness brings joy and delight (Eph. 1-2, Heb. 12:2).

When we are forgiven, we find delight in undeserved freedom. When we feel and understand the crushing reality of our sin, how profoundly inexcusable our behavior is we perceive and even accept that we owe the one we wronged. We are indebted to them for our sins. In our wrongdoing we have indebted ourselves to them until we can make right what we have made wrong. Unfortunately, no human repayment seems adequate. What is monetary gain for a child whose father has abandoned them for another family? What are tears and apologies when trust has been broken and friends or co-workers betrayed. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, we can forgive many things, but when we perceive the depths of our evil against another we realize no efforts on our part is truly satisfactory. We stand before them and before God totally, inexcusably guilty. With not a penny to our name, we cannot hope to pay those we owe.

Forgiveness brings joy. After being forgiven for committing adultery, conspiracy, and murder, King David wrote “what joy for those whose rebellion is forgiven, whose sin is put out of sight! Yes, what joy for those whose record the LORD has cleared of sin,” (Psalm 32:1-2, 6). What David celebrated and what can give us joy today, is that though we are embarrassingly inadequate and unable to pay our debts to others and most importantly our to Creator-King, He offers forgiveness. He faced the price of sin down and paid it in full. He pays the price – we receive our freedom. In our freedom we delight in the One who out of no obligation to us, paid our debt to Him and others. In forgiveness we delight.

To Forgive is to Delight

Accepting forgiveness is easy. Forgiving others is hard. If you are like me, forgiving others can be difficult because a proud part of your heart rises up and says “they did not hurt me, they do not mean enough to me for them to hurt me. I’m stronger than that.” That is all well and good when we are dealing with a guy cutting us off in traffic. It’s a different story when it’s our father. Or our spouse. Or a close friend. It’s different when it’s someone we’ve been transparent and even at times vulnerable with.

Yet despite how much pain we may have wrongfully been dealt, God’s command stands firm, “you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. You must make allowance for each other’s faults and forgive…remember the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others,” (Colossians 3:12-13). Making forgiveness a command seems to steal the joy we could feel from it. Paul probably understood how we all like to accept it but returning in kind is not as easy.

We find joy in forgiving others because their debt can and has been paid. Without Christ, a person who has wronged us cannot really, truly satisfy their debt to us. As a result, we all find ourselves enslaved to sin and each other – there is no way to break free. But at the cross, sin was fully faced, it’s gigantic payment satisfied, and freedom became a possibility. Because Jesus’ faced my sin, I can walk in freedom, no longer shouldering the burden of sin and debt I have racked up against Him. Because Jesus’ paid for the sin of everyone in my life, I can offer them freedom because their debt has been paid as well.

When I want to see someone who has hurt me pay for their wrongdoing, I need only look to the cross. Jesus offered to pay their debt for them to. I can find peace and rest, knowing that the wrongs, however mild or profoundly life-changing, have been confronted. Justice has been meted out – Jesus has satisfied their debt for them (or at the very least offered to if they do not follow Him). I need not feel like I have been cheated, for Jesus has suffered the consequences of their sin for them. The debt owed to me because of their evil has been paid. In light of that – in light of knowing that the debt so-and-so owes me has been paid – I can let go of their debt. I can offer them freedom. I can release them. We can delight in forgiveness because we know the debt they owe us has been paid by Christ.

The delight forgiving brings does not mean it is an easy endeavor. Sometimes merely facing the deep-seated pain someone has caused us alone is a taxing, wrenching endeavor. Nevertheless, we must press into the command Jesus has given us – to forgive (release from debt) as we have been forgiven (been released from our debt). What we owed has been paid by, Jesus. What others owe us has been paid, by Jesus. Forgiving others at times will not be easy or enjoyable at the beginning, but it will bring us joy as we remember the debt Christ has paid for us and that He too has paid the debt others owe us. That is why we can delight in forgiveness.

On Suicide and the Gospel

Suicide is an all-too-common part of culture. From the tragic and unexpected death of famous actor-comedian Robin Williams this past week to the frightening and bizarre case just two weeks ago of a young twelve year boy in Michigan who stabbed his nine year old friend to death before telling first responders, “I want to die, I don’t want to live on this earth anymore,” we all have become accustomed to this disturbing new trend in society.

As the news continues to cover these sobering, heart-wrenching tragedies I have noticed a lack of discussion on what the Gospel has to say about suicide. While other, more qualified professionals and even lay-counselors can debate the exact and often confusing motives behind a person taking their life, I think most of us find our hearts and minds sincerely asking, “is there hope for someone who commits suicide?” If we are honest, many of us want that question answered just as badly as the reasons behind a loved ones tragic, self-inflicted death. The question then is quite simple: can the Gospel bring any hope in the midst of the tragedy of suicide?

Why Suicide is a Tragedy

We all seem to intuitively know that suicide is a deep, acute tragedy. We sometimes even struggle to say the word itself without lowering our voices or looking around us to make sure no third parties are listening.  This discomfort is widespread; almost everyone can name at least one person in their lives who has either committed suicide or been directly affected by it.  But why is suicide such a dark tragedy? Why do we all instinctively and inwardly mourn in a totally unique fashion (the mourning of a person who passed away from cancer is markedly different than a self-inflicted death) when someone, whether a friend, family member, or someone we simply hear about, takes their life?

Suicide is a devastating loss because when someone takes their life, an uniquely created image-bearer of God is destroyed. As divinely crafted, uniquely created humans, people alone stand as the pinnacle of creation. God said when he created man and woman:

“Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over…all the earth…so God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them,” Genesis 1:26-27.

A couple unique truths should stand out to us here. One, we should notice the heavy emphasis God places on His loving creation of man and woman. Notice that in two verses the author mentions God “making” or “creating” mankind four times. Four times in just two sentences. In Genesis 2 we read that rather than just speak creation into existence like He has done all other things, God particularly molds and fashions Adam and Eve with His hands before breathing life into them. There is a closeness to God that each of us as humans can enjoy that is unmatched in the rest of creation.

Second, we should notice humanity has been given an extraordinary calling – God gave us dominion over the entire earth as His representatives. Before mass media and communication existed, ancient kings and emperors would often reign over vast tracts of land that they themselves might never see. In order to remind those who were a part of their kingdom of their authority, kings, emperors, and pharaohs would set up statues or images of themselves throughout their lands. Thus an image would serve a representative of the ruler of the land. While he himself might not be present, his image reminded his people of his authority. To be made in God’s image then means to be specifically created to show all of the world who God is and what He is like. To display His grace, kindness, joy, creativity, work-ethic, love, holiness, and more to everyone and everything around us.

Like a dark cloud that blocks out the sun, suicide obscures our view of God. When a human who was uniquely, specifically, intentionally created by God to show the world some piece of His greatness, forfeits that calling through suicide, the world has suffered a great loss. What’s more, as the author of life, God is never revealed when a person kills themselves. Suicide is an unspeakable tragedy in part, because it is a surrendering of the highest calling by the highest, most beloved beings in all of creation. We were made to image the God who deeply loves us, not surrender that privilege through suicide.

When humans, God’s most wonderful, cherished creatures, commit suicide, the universe is robbed of a unique soul with a unique calling. Indeed to quote one author from this past week, “Robin William’s death is a tragedy not because of his celebrity, but because he was human.”

The Gospel and Suicide

Does the Gospel offer any real hope  in this gloomy arena? Can the death of Jesus really offer healing, hope, and peace for those affected by suicide? Or even those who commit suicide?

Yes. Resoundingly, emphatically – yes.

To be fair, the Bible has little to say directly about the topic of suicide. The only reference to suicide in the New Testament is a brief story of the disciple-turned-traitor Judas hanging himself. Every other account of suicide is in the Old Testament and is merely a story, not a theological treatise, on a man ending his life. To my knowledge Jesus does not broach the topic of suicide in any of His teachings, nor do any of the writings in the New Testament.

For some reason, suicide has for some time been viewed as the unpardonable sin. Perhaps this ties back to the famous Inferno by Dante that firmly plants anyone who commits suicide in a gloomy corner of hell. But the Bible says no such thing. In context, the unforgivable sin has more to do with some kind of denial of the Holy Spirit and rejection of Jesus (Matthew 12:31-32, Mark 3:28-29), not suicide. So if suicide is barely discussed at all by the Bible and is not even remotely in view when Jesus discussed the unpardonable sin, where can we turn to see if the Gospel offers hope?

Romans 5 offers us the answer. After spending some time showing that all people, regardless of age, race, creed, nationality, gender, or class are guilty of cosmic rebellion and sin against God, the apostle Paul showed the only possible hope for our rescue from the death we each have earned by our sin is the death of someone else in our place. Only through some perfect, obedient substitute could our sins be punished, justice be satisfied, and our lives be spared. This was the mission of Jesus. To build God’s Kingdom on earth by standing in our place and taking our punishment and making those who trust and follow Him, His own special people. This rescue is fueled by a love and an inexplicable, un-earnable kindness (grace) toward us that is radical:

“Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through righteousness leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Romans 5:20-21

Where sin abounded, grace (God’s un-earnable, compassionate affection toward us) hyper-abounded. Where sin and death flourished, grace outpaced and outgrew it even then. If sin were the Mississippi River, grace would be the Pacific Ocean. If sin were to score 90 on the exam, grace scores a 110. If sin were represented by the Empire State Building, grace would be Mount Everest. That is the radical truth of the Gospel. When sin steps in and does unspeakable damage that seems irreversible, the grace of God comes in to forgive that wrong, sparing the sinner-turned-child-of-God of eternal destruction.

This is why Paul can triumphantly say that everyone who is called by God will one day be made right with God (justified), made to look more like Jesus (sanctified), and one day fully and finally freed from sin and death itself (glorified) (Romans 8:30). The chain is unbroken: one leads to the other to the other to the other. Belief leads to forgiveness and peace with God, to following Jesus and looking more like him, to finally being reunited with Him beyond the stain, power, and harm of sin and death one day in His Kingdom. This certain, unflinching chain of events is sure because our rescue hinges not on our works but on God’s grace. Where our sin abounded, grace – through Jesus’ death in our place on the cross – has hyper-abounded. So radical is this grace that God says of those who have trusted Him:

“I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more,” (Hebrews 10:17).

Grace obliterates and overcomes sin and death.

How does suicide play into this? Whether or not a person commits suicide motivated by mental illness, a drunken or drug induced overdose, or yes, even by their own choice, the un-earnable, compassionate, radical grace of God is enough to cover even that. Sin and death are undeniably linked in Scripture – where one is, the other soon follows. So even if someone commits suicide with diminished self-control and capacity, their death nonetheless is a startling reminder that they, like all of us, are a sinner in need of rescue.

The question then, when each of us stands before the Lord after our death will not be “were you good enough to get into heaven?” or even “you committed suicide, how could you possibly think you could enter into my kingdom?” The question for all of us will simply be, what did we do with the free gift God offered us? Did we accept in faith and lay down our spiritual sin, pride, and rebellion. Did we let God become the King in our lives again and stop trying to reign ourselves? Or did we persist in stubborn, proud rebellion until the very end, refusing to acknowledge Him as King and neglecting, even scorning, the offer of rescue He gives us through His Son?

So can a legitimate, follower of the Lord despair so deeply and take their life yet still find rescue in eternity? While the Bible never answers this question head on, the answer seems to be, yes. Where sin and death abound, grace and life abound all the more. Two years ago I attended the funeral of a friend who I genuinely believe knew the Lord, trusted him, and followed him. Yet in a season of dark, trying despair, he took his life. While his death was shocking and unnerving, the surety of his rescue is not in question. It never depended on him in the first place – it always rested on Jesus providing and him simply trusting in Christ. So even when my friend took his life almost two years ago to the day, his and my hope remain firm because it never rested in his good deeds to save him. It always rested on Jesus, and though sin and death may abound in this life, for those in Christ grace and life abound, all the more.

Resources:

If suicide or thoughts of suicide are something you struggle with or if you know someone struggling, I hope these resources will encourage and help you:

• Suicide and Eternity: Podcast from RADIUS Church
•  When the Darkness Will Not Lift: An excellent, compassionate book about struggling with depression, despair, and mental illness as a believer by John Piper
• National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: A national service that provides 24-hour services to anyone contemplating suicide