Sometimes, forgiveness is easy. A person makes an honest mistake, perhaps one you yourself have made before, and says he’s sorry. Hey, you tell him, it’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it. Within a few days, maybe even hours, you hardly remember what the person did wrong.
Maybe the person commits an error that’s a bit more frustrating, an inconvenience, something that makes you temporarily grit your teeth. All the same, the person seems genuinely contrite—and besides, holding it against him incurs its own costs. If he is a coworker, a neighbor, or a fellow volunteer parent on your kids’ little league team, you spend a fair amount of time with him, and may even need his help. Convenience outweighs the effort of holding a grudge.
Other times, the transgression is egregious. The person harmed you in a way that has a lasting impact. He may have even done it with malice and expresses no remorse. He doesn’t want your forgiveness. He’s glad he did it. If anyone fits the definition of your enemy, it’s that guy.
In all these circumstances, Jesus’ exhortation to us is the same. Forgive him. Forgive him “seventy times seven,” as Jesus tells St. Peter when asked how many times to forgive an offender (Mt. 18:21-22). And, as Jesus shows us on the cross, that forgiveness is to be offered even to enemies who haven’t shown the slightest bit of remorse.
“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do,” prays Jesus in what is understood in Catholic tradition as the first of His “Seven Last Words” from the cross (Lk. 23:34a). If anyone had cause to withhold forgiveness, certainly it was Jesus. The people He forgives are the very people who convicted Him in a show trial, brutally scourged Him, and now have nailed Him to a cross outside the walls of Jerusalem. The second half of the very same verse of St. Luke’s Gospel adds insult to injury: “And they cast lots to divide his garments.” Talk about cruelty.
Yet the callous, nonsensical hatred of the Jews and Romans towards Jesus does not alter His disposition. In the midst of this mockery, one of the criminals crucified next to Jesus pleads with Jesus that He remember him when Jesus enters His kingdom. “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise” Jesus responds (Lk. 23:43). Jesus’ forgiveness is unrelenting.
It’s one thing to admire this kind of mercy from a healthy distance. Isn’t it wonderful that Jesus, the Son of the living God, was capable of forgiving His enemies, even while they showered insults down upon His expiring person? As a sinner in need of forgiveness, I’m sure glad He did!
But it’s another thing to compare this merciful equanimity with our own disposition towards those who have transgressed against us in some way. I only require a few minutes to think through a long list of people over the course of my life—coworkers, friends, even family—whose mistreatment of me years ago still triggers resentment. I know Jesus calls me to forgive such persons for what they’ve done, even if they never acknowledge their fault to me or anyone else. Awareness of that spiritual calling to forgive doesn’t necessarily make it easier.
A disposition towards forgiveness, however, is essential to spiritual growth. The early church father St. John Chrysostom urges us: “Forgive another, and you are ‘imitating God,’ you are made like God.” St. Robert Bellarmine in turn teaches that forgiveness reaps spiritual rewards:
Oh, if Christians would learn how easily they can, if they wish, acquire inexhaustible treasures, and merit signal degrees of honor and glory by gaining the mastery over the various agitations of their souls, and magnanimously despising small and trivial insults, they would certainly not be so hardhearted and obstinately set against pardon and forgiveness.
Part of that mastery, I would argue, is recognizing that many of the offenses we suffer, when surveyed from a healthy emotional distance, are more trivial than we might admit. Someone at work disrespected and insulted me, or perhaps even took credit for something I did, enabling him to get accolades, perhaps even a promotion. That’s not fair. But is my job in jeopardy because of it? Almost certainly not. Does my boss now think I’m terrible? Doubtful. If we can cultivate a willingness to forgive over these infractions, we’ll be much better equipped to handle the more serious ones that cause real damage.
But why forgive, you might ask, besides the knowledge that doing so makes us more like Christ, or His warning that if we don’t forgive others, God will not forgive us (Mt. 6:14-15)? Refusing to forgive embitters our soul, and encourages a type of pride that says we would never do what that person did. Over time, it poisons our relationship not only with others, but with God Himself. After all, we are all sinners in need of mercy—if we are cautious in clemency, we are setting ourselves in opposition to God, a God who forgave even the people who killed Him.
“Sure, I’m a sinner as much as the next person, but don’t you know what he did to me?” you might retort. Yes, what that person did to you may have been truly wicked, perhaps its disastrous consequences felt for the rest of your life. Jesus is not asking you to forget or downplay that; Jesus is not saying you aren’t allowed to mourn what happened. Forgiveness doesn’t mean we don’t recognize the vicious character of the sin or the real damage that is done, or that we don’t take precautions to prevent future harm to ourselves.
Nevertheless, we must forgive. We must do so for the sake of our souls, and not just so God will forgive us. Forgiveness, even when the offending party doesn’t ask for it, brings peace. That peace affects even our mental and bodily health, a fact supported by recent scientific research.
The simple exercise of on our own calling to mind the person who harmed us and vocally saying out loud the person’s name and “I forgive you,” can have a remarkable effect. Try it. Try it today, while you’re alone, remembering the people in your life who have hurt you the most. It certainly helped me. My relationship with difficult coworkers changed almost overnight after I took the time, on my own, to voice my forgiveness of them for past wrongs.
Most importantly, forgiveness draws us into deeper fellowship with Christ. The more we do it, there we appreciate what Christ did for us on the cross; and the more we can perceive that we can, in our own little way, extend the same grace that Jesus extended when He forgave His enemies on the cross. Friendships, families, and entire communities can in time be healed by a radical willingness to forgive. Don’t allow old grievances to oppress your soul. There is freedom to be had. You need only forgive.
Editor’s Note: Casey Chalk is the author of Wisdom from the Cross: How Jesus’ Seven Last Words Teach Us How to Live (and Die) Well, available from Sophia Institute Press.
Photo by Jonas Allert on Unsplash
