Forgiving is Not Forgetting
24th Sunday of the Ordinary Time – Forgiving is Not Forgetting
None of us — whether we are avid followers or casual observers of the news — can escape the Lindsay Clancy trial coverage. Was she fully aware of what she was doing? Is post-partum psychosis to blame? Will there be justice for those three innocent children? What about that one lone juror’s refusal to back down on his stance?
In some ways, the trial has become a circus, fed by the media’s desire for ratings, easy access to everyone else’s opinions and theories, and our own insatiable hunger for salacious content. The tragedy of Lindsay Clancy and her children has become our modern-day soap opera. That should all give us pause.
Yet, even into this drama, comes a comment from Lindsay’s ex-husband, Patrick, that has given me pause. The man who lost his three children offered these words at one point before the trial began with regards to Lindsay: “Please forgive her as I have.”
Forgive her.
Could I? Could you? If you were Patrick Clancy, or Lindsay’s in-laws, or her next-door neighbor, would you forgive her? Even if she was fully aware of what she was doing? Would you offer forgiveness?
Our entire faith is based on this gift of forgiveness and mercy, a gift that we are so desperate to receive ourselves and yet so often unwilling to offer another, especially when we’ve been hurt or destroyed by another’s sinful thoughts and actions.
Perhaps this is why Jesus brings forth the parable of the unforgiving servant who himself was first forgiven by his master. Why was the one who was forgiven much not able to offer that same gift to one who was indebted to him?
I wonder, quite frankly, if the answer lies in the understanding that the forgiven servant who was unable to forgive in turn never really accepted the mercy and allowed it to transform his heart. Sure, he was relieved and grateful to be “let off the hook” by the king, but the act of love offered was never truly received. After all, we can be given a gift that we never really open and appreciate.
Forgiveness might very well be that gift.
Peter thought he was being so generous by offering to forgive seven times. Jewish religious law indicated that one could walk away without any qualms from a relationship after three attempts of offering mercy. Thus, to Peter, seven offerings of forgiveness seemed downright Godly.
And here’s where the Lord pushes back: it’s not about the actual number of times, Peter. It’s about the change of heart that comes from it.
Seventy-seven offerings of forgiveness is the deeper understanding that this gift — so freely given by the Father through the Son on the Cross for all eternity — is one that we must fully embrace if we want to live in authentic freedom and love.
Forgiving 77 times means that we who have been forgiven much by our heavenly Father are willing to offer that same grace to those who hurt us, often in mighty destructive and downright evil ways.
Forgiving 77 times means that the redemptive love of mercy at Calvary is offered a space within our own lives and hearts so that others can find the gift there, too.
It does not mean, as many think it does, that we excuse sinful behavior or let the wrongdoers off the hook completely. Forgiveness does not mean forever-forgetting and moving on as if it never happened. Forgiveness is not about backing-down or accepting another’s evil actions.
If that’s the definition of forgiveness we hold to, it’s not of God.
His forgiveness — the final words Christ offered at Calvary — called out sin and destroyed it forever by saying that it has no power over the human heart. The sins and evil ways of others do not have the final say, not if we fight back by offering true forgiveness.
What does that look like?
Real forgiveness is knowing that love has forgiven us, and we can’t keep it only for ourselves.
Real forgiveness recognizes that others are broken, too, and we need to be at least open to offering the same mercy that has been offered to us.
Real forgiveness does not excuse sin. If anything, it says that another’s sin won’t define me, destroy me or make me stop loving. Forgiveness calls out sin and demands appropriate justice while not seeking revenge according to my own terms.
Real forgiveness is a journey. It’s a lifetime of “77 times,” often directed towards the same person or situation, asking the Lord to come into our hearts and make space for mercy, not hate.
Real forgiveness looks like constant prayer, asking God to replace hurt with healing — even if only within ourselves.
Real forgiveness is a moment offered by a husband nearly destroyed by death but into that space offers a gift to someone he had loved,someone he knew was deeply broken.
Words that sound somewhat familiar to those first spoken by our Savior into eternity: “Forgive, as I forgive.”
He’s done so for me. For you. For Patrick. For Lindsay. For every single one of us.
And as He has done, should we not be open to offering the same gift?