July 17, 2005
"Forgive, and Save Yourself"

Just a few years back a man in Hardeeville, S.C. went into the local courthouse and filed a deed restriction. The restriction barred the sale of any part of his 1,600 acre plantation to anyone born north of the Mason-Dixon line. Also, no one named Sherman can buy any of his land. It seems that General Sherman came through during the Civil War and burned all the buildings on this plantation, and the owner vowed never to let any Yankee on the property again. The fact that the Civil War took place almost 150 years ago doesn’t matter, this man knows how to hold a grudge.

Unfortunately, he’s not alone. In the tiny European country of Albania, they have raised revenge to an art form. There it is common for a blood feud to go back many generations. In each family, the men have a solemn obligation to avenge any harm done not only to their families, but also to their ancestors’ families, and each son inherits this responsibility as soon as he reaches the age of maturity. If one man kills another man, the family of the dead man is required to take revenge, even decades later, if necessary. One book on Albania said there may be as many as 2,000 blood feuds going on today. No wonder it’s one of the poorest countries in Europe. All the energy goes into revenge.

In the movie Waiting to Exhale, one of the characters discovers her husband has been unfaithful, so she takes all his possessions, his clothes, his shoes, his golf clubs, and jams them all into his Mercedes automobile. Then she lights a match and lets the whole thing burn. A lot of women saw that picture and started to cheer, but really, there was nothing to celebrate. That wife stood watching her marriage go up in flames with tears rolling down her cheeks. She had her revenge, but she remained in prison—a prison that was at least partially of her own making.

The heart of God is that none of his children should live in prison. The words of the Lord’s Prayer are very near to the heart of God on forgiveness, but there may be a slight disconnect in the way we understand the word. All our lives we have cruised through the Lord’s Prayer saying the words “Forgive us our debts, or “Forgive us our trespasses” or sometimes “Forgive us our sins” with the tag line “as we forgive our debtors.” That has a push-pull feel to it, like two events happening simultaneously.

A better translation might be “Forgive us our sins to the extent that we forgive others.” I like that because it carries an element of true openness with God, where we’re putting our own salvation on the line. “Search my heart, Lord,” we say, “and forgive me as far as I’ve forgiven those who have done me wrong.”

Whenever Christians talk about forgiveness—and we are the only major religion that makes a big deal about forgiving others—inevitably the words of the Old Testament, “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” come up. In fact, three times you can read those words, “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But somewhere a wise rabbi noted, “If the whole world lives by the code, ‘an eye for an eye and a tooth,’ soon all men and women will be toothless and blind.” Look what else the Old Testament is full of: bitter people. Cain was bitter towards God and Abel, so he murdered his brother. Joseph’s brothers were bitter towards him, so they sold him into slavery. Naomi’s husband and sons died, so she told Ruth to call her by a new name. “Call me Mara,” she said, “because my life is bitter.”

Bitterness quickly solidifies into a way of life—a self-destructive way of life.

In his book “What’s So Amazing About Grace,” Philip Yancey tells a story about a husband and wife who had an argument about the way the dinner was cooked. The argument was so heated that they slept in separate rooms. Neither one could find it in their heart to forgive the other, so they stayed in separate rooms for years afterwards. Each night they go to bed hoping the other will approach them with an apology or forgiveness, but neither goes to the other. So they suffer in silence.

But here’s what’s amazing about God’s grace: it doesn’t wait for us to say we’re sorry. God’s forgiveness takes the first step and is offered with no strings attached.

Jesus told a story, a cautionary tale, about a man who owed his king an enormous sum, an astronomical figure, quite impossible to repay. Yet the king forgave the debt and let the man walk free. Then this same man dealt mercilessly with another servant who owed him a small debt, threw him into debtor’s prison. The king hit the roof, recalled the man and had him imprisoned until the entire original debt was repaid—in other words, forever. Jesus concluded, “So shall my Heavenly Father do to all of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from the heart.”

There are quite a few places in the Bible where it says that you must forgive others to receive forgiveness yourself. Now, you can’t build your whole life on that idea, because we also know that we are forgiven because of Christ’s actions on the cross. Yet we can’t escape the conclusion that if we won’t forgive others, we end up in a debtor’s prison of our own making. Why do you suppose Jesus makes such a big deal about a little thing like forgiveness? Maybe because forgiveness isn’t a little thing at all. No, forgiveness isn’t a little thing—it’s like the atom. It’s a small act, but unbelievably powerful.

This is where I want to give you one thought to take out the door with you this morning—forgiveness is the only thing that has the power to change the past. It has power to change the forgiven. And it was power to change the forgiver. It is the universal get out of jail free card. That’s why Jesus made such a big deal about it—because forgiveness has the power to save lives.

Think about that with me. We say that the past is past, and nothing can change it. Maybe that’s why we get so frustrated and want to take revenge on those who have hurt us. We have a need to revisit the past and make sure we even up the balance sheet, make the wrongdoer pay. But to choose forgiveness is to choose to let go of the unpaid bill. When we forgive, we take control of how we feel about the past.

One of the things we know about being human is that we cannot avoid hurting others. Just can’t avoid it. One of the great illustrations of all time was given by the German philosopher Schopenhauer, who compared us to a bunch of porcupines trying to keep warm on a cold winter’s night. On the one hand, we want to get close together to share warmth, and on the other hand our quills jab each other and cause hurt. Then we drift apart again, and eventually, in the coldness of the night we freeze to death in our loneliness. There is nobody in this room, nobody who was ever born, who has not been hurt by others, who has not felt the pain of the porcupine quill.

So what do we do about it? Jesus said the answer was to forgive, and forgive, and forgive some more.

Leonardo DaVinci, just before starting out to paint his magnificent “Last Supper,” had a violent argument with a fellow painter. Leonardo grew so angry and bitter that he resolved to paint the face of his enemy on the figure of Judas in the painting, so all the world could see what a treacherous man looked like. In fact, the face of Judas was one of the first faces he completed. Everyone would be able to see that this was the man who had quarreled with the great genius.

But when he came to paint the face of Christ, he could make no progress at all. Something seemed to be baffling him, holding him back, frustrating his best efforts. Finally it came to him that he was stymied because of his own actions. He decided to forgive and not take revenge. He repainted the image of Judas, and then was able to move on with the face of Jesus. Five hundred years later the Last Supper remains one of the greatest pieces of art ever created by humans. When DaVinci moved past his need for revenge, he broke the power of hatred and allowed the power of Christ to have the last word.

I know that it’s not easy to forgive your enemies. From my own heart I can tell you that it’s not easy. This morning I can think of some people right off the bat that I need to forgive. Would you be brave enough to show me your hands if there are people that you need to forgive? For some of us this pain has been keeping us in prison for years, maybe for decades. It’s become a habit. I know it’s not easy to break bad habits. But our Lord asks only that we try.

And there’s one thing more—the Bible tells us that anyone who comes to this table unworthily and eats and drinks here unworthily brings condemnation upon themselves. I don’t want to stand at the Lord’s table and invite others to his banquet with anger in my heart. And I know you don’t want to come to the table with a heart weighed down with unforgiveness, either. So I just want to take a minute and we all can examine our hearts in silence.

With that, let me close by telling you a story about forgiveness, one of many that came out of World War II. Ravensbruck was a German concentration camp built on a like north of Berlin. It was built to house women who were part of the resistance to the Nazi tyranny. And there were many who quickly filled up the camp, women from France, Holland, Germany, from all over Europe. Over 90,000 women and children died at Ravensbruck, and little is known about them. But there is one testament to these women, a scrap of paper that was found on the clothing of a dead child.

This is what it said on the paper: “O Lord, remember not only the men and women of good will, but also those of ill will. But do not remember all of the suffering they inflicted upon us. Instead, remember the fruits we have borne because of this suffering, our fellowship, our loyalty to one another, our humility, our generosity, our courage, the greatness of heart that has grown from this trouble. When our persecutors come to be judged by you, let all these fruits that we have borne be their forgiveness.”

In Colossians Paul writes, “Therefore as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

Let us pray: Heavenly Father, in our fallen and broken condition we find it so hard to forgive those who have hurt us. We prefer to live in bitterness, allowing weeds to choke out the love we should hold for all people in our hearts. Yet we have heard your warning that those who do not forgive condemn themselves to a prison of their own making. This morning as we prepare to come to your table, we ask that you pour out your grace upon us, so that we can be free of anything that keeps us away from you. Deepen our commitment to you and to each other, today and always. Amen.