The Art of Forgiveness

Matthew 6:14-15

For if you will forgive men their offences, your heavenly Father will forgive you also your offences.
But if you will not forgive men, neither will your Father forgive you your offences.

Mark 11:26

But if you will not forgive, neither will your father that is in heaven forgive you your sins.

Lord, do I really believe you when you say things like that? Do I really believe that the forgiveness of my own sins is directly proportional to the manner and depth I forgive the sins committed against me?

I don't think I do. I don't think I did, at any rate. I have always known you're a forgiving God--that I can simply confess and you'll forgive. And yet, when I read your words, I see something different. Sure, you will forgive--there's no question of your mercy. It's more a question of my mercy.

Am I in your parable? Am I the man who owed more money than he could ever pay? The one who's debts were washed away? The one who immediately went out and demanded payment from others for much smaller debts?

Yes, as sad as it is to say, that's me. The quality of mercy I've shown others is nothing like the mercy my Father has shown me. In fact, I don't even think it would qualify as mercy. It's a begrudging forgiveness or, worse yet, it's a self-aggrandizing forgiveness: something that makes me feel superior, bigger, a martyr worthy of praise.

Now's the time to throw that all out. It's time to wash the slate clean and start living the commandments of Christ: Lord, let me forgive those who have wronged me. Let me forgive because I've been forgiven. Let me forgive so that I will be forgiven.

Let me hold no one guilty, let me carry no grudges, let me feel no pride. I cannot do it on my own. I can say the words, Lord, but I cannot muster the feelings. I need your grace and your love to flow through me. Let it be, Lord, that you move through my heart and teach me the art of forgiveness.

Out of My Chair

"I know that in one single room thirteen crowded people are breathing on one another.

I know a mother who hooks the table and the chairs to the ceiling to make room for mattresses.

I know that rats come out to eat the crusts, and bite the babies.

I know a father who gets up to stretch oilcloth above the rain-soaked bed of his four children.

I know a mother who stays up all night, since there is room for only one bed, and the two children are sick.

I wish it were not true.

I wish I could convince myself that I'm dreaming.

I wish someone could prove that I'm exaggerating.

I wish they'd show me that all these people have only themselves to blame, that it's their fault they are so miserable.

I'd like to be reassured, Lord, but I can't be. It's too late.

I've seen too much,

I've listened too much,

I've counted to much, and, Lord, these ruthless figures have robbed me forever of my innocent tranquility."

--from "Housing" by Abbe Michel Quoist

After the Health Care bill passed, I was depressed. Angry. Sick of free lunches, sick of the redistribution of wealth, sick of politicians who won't listen to a word the public is saying, sick of President Obama, Nancy Pelosi and the rest of them.

And then there were the free-riders. The loafers who came crawling out of the woodwork looking for their free stuff. Free stuff at my expense and without my consent.

All I could think was: "Go get a job" or "Get out of your chair and stop looking for hand-outs." After all, I figured they were all in their bad situations because of something they'd done--or something they refused to do.

And then I found that prayer above in an old prayer book from 1954 and I realized that it doesn't matter. It's not my place to question why or how they ended up where they are. Jesus never told us to give to the poor and ease their burdens IF they deserve it. He simply told us that it is our job here on earth to love the unlovable and to bring water to the thirsty and food to the hungry.

When we do this--when we obey the words of our Lord--two things happen. First, we temporarily ease the burdens of those who are suffering--even if they're suffering of their own accord. Secondly, we grow closer to Christ because we're letting him use our hands and our feet to bring his presence to a hurting world.

~~~~

I don't believe that nationalized health care is the answer to all of our problems. This current socialist agenda we're seeing is not going to solve the problems in our country or in the lives of the poor. What will change our situation, however, is the love of Christ.

When I, as a Christian start acting like Jesus and obeying his words and spending my energy and time and money bringing His love to the struggling ones (and when I stop judging who's worthy and who's not worthy of my efforts), the hurting people will see His love and will find real hope despite their situations.

Lord, let me remember that I'm a free-loader as well. I've sat back while you did all the work of my salvation. I'm just sitting here reaping the benefits. Let that change, Lord. Get me out of my chair. Get me out of my front door. Put me in front of the toothless and dirty and homeless, the addicts, the struggling, the ugly and undesirable ones. And use my hands and my feet and my mouth to bring them comfort and peace.