What Happened to Forgiveness and How Can We Recover It?

What would a world without forgiveness look like? What would it look like if, starting tomorrow, no one forgave anyone ever, even for the smallest infraction?

It would be a world of constant wars, fighting and conflict. We would witness the dissolution of marriage, family, and all but the most casual friendships. Court systems would clog. Everyone would seek to live and work alone. Our discourse would settle into either pre-approved, non-offensive platitudes or gross hatred, vitriol, and name-calling. We would leave our bubble of self-indulgence only to toss the occasional log onto the perpetual bonfire of shaming and outrage against our identity group’s villain-of-the-hour. In short, humanity’s spirit would increasingly be characterized by a sense of disconnected, self-righteous bitterness.

Does that sound familiar? The virtue of forgiveness is already farther gone than many of us realize. Whether or not we understand the cause, it’s hard to ignore the results.

Why is this happening? Why is it so hard to turn the other cheek? Why can’t we break free from this cycle of outrage and retribution?

If we want to regain the priceless glue of forgiveness, we have to understand how we lost it in the first place.

Why We Lost Forgiveness

1. We don’t see our need for grace
   
   Jesus makes it clear that there is a direct connection between internalizing God’s forgiveness of you and how well you forgive others. (Mattew 6:12, 14-15; 18:23-35).
   
   If I don’t need forgiveness, then why should I forgive you? Jesus teaches that “with the measure you use, it will be measured to you” (Mattew 7:2). That equation is a warning. But we won’t heed the warning unless we can be honest about our own failings. If you, on the whole, are doing pretty well, that means most people are not measuring up. You’ll judge others in any place where you don’t feel you need forgiveness. “He who is forgiven little, loves little [and forgives little]” (Luke 7:47).
   
   
2. We have an out-sized view of ourselves
   
   When you remove God from the picture (either in stated belief or practice), then you fill the screen. You become the god to whom everyone must confess: “Against you, you only have I sinned” (Psalm 51:4).
   
   The crimes of the world become personal offenses. Every marginalization, every poor judgment, every thoughtless word becomes a wrong which I must play my part to rectify. I sit as a larger than life representative of all humanity. Without me, who would faithfully stand as an arbiter of justice? My vengeance must be swift and merciless. I must carry global grievances to my grave. To overlook or forgive is to fail my duty as a god amongst men.
   
   
3. No one asks for forgiveness
   
   This is the chicken-egg conundrum. To ask for forgiveness is to wave the white flag, to give yourself over to the mercy of your victim. But armies are more willing to surrender to countries where they know that amnesty flows freely. That is hardly the case for us.
   
   People do not ask for forgiveness because they know it will not be given. Our rules of warfare are barbaric and terrifying: give no quarter, take no prisoners. Offenders are cast out, careers ended, friendships severed, and every public mistake is only redeemed by becoming yet another cautionary tale. When you close the door to granting forgiveness, you discover that no one is asking for it.
   
   
4. “Speak-your-truth” allows for differences, not right and wrong “You are what you decide to be. Make your own reality.” The message of ultimate self-determination creates a wide, ambiguous ground slathered with moral shades of gray.
   
   My behavior and speech reflects my own journey of self-discovery. This is a journey that, by definition, I travel alone. This precludes any judgment from outside. For me to ask for forgiveness, or for you to give it, assumes a higher standard to which we both submit. But in a world where behavior merely reflects a spectrum of self-expression, to ask for forgiveness is for me to confess to being bad, not merely doing bad. Confession no longer means failing God’s standards, it’s failing to be as good as you.
   
   

What is the solution?

Jesus tells a parable in Matthew 18 to teach us how forgiveness works. His point is that your ability to forgive others directly reflects your understanding of what Christ has forgiven you. There’s no way you could insist on getting back a couple hundred bucks back unless you’ve completely forgotten the millions you’ve been forgiven. It’s psychologically impossible.

1. Right-size your own role in God’s kingdom
   
   If we remember who we are, and who is running the show, forgiveness gets easier. There is a king. There is Someone who executes justice perfectly. God is the one accountable for holding up God’s standard. That means you and I are off the hook.
   
   Imagine you have to deliver an unpleasant memo from your boss to your co-worker, Steve. Steve erupts at you. He fumes, cusses you out, and flatly responds, “I’m just not doing it.” Steve has wronged you, even though it’s not your message. You might agree with the memo you passed along, or you might agree with Steve. It doesn’t really matter. You’d feel a little bit hurt by Steve, but then you’ll return to work grateful that you’re not the boss. God can look out for Himself and can certainly look out for you.
   
   
2. See the costliness of your own sins to Christ
   
   Debt doesn’t disappear just because we want it to, or even just because God wants it to. Canceling a debt means someone has to absorb it. One of the reasons we avert our eyes from the cross is because it’s ugly. Not simply ugly in an abstract way, like a puddle, or the empty parking lot of a strip mall. The cross is ugly in an intimate way, because it points the finger at you personally in all its awful costliness. You’ll find it hard to meditate on your role in the cross and then vent about others on social media.
   
   If you know and remember not only what you have been forgiven in Christ, but also what you are being forgiven every day, and at what cost, you’ll find your own forgiveness flowing more freely.
   
   
   
   An earlier version of this article was initially published on Reformation21