One thing I’ve realised about the world today is that a lot of us think that everything can be resolved into a formula. Now Einstein may be right about a Grand Unifying Theory, and I actually wait eagerly to see that day happen. But sad to say not everything can be explained with theories and correlations and formulae. Tha’ts the problem with the society I stay in and live in - we’re so caught up in memorising correlations and reading books and listening to theories and methods and procedures (and made to write them!) that we forget not everything works as a formula, and for that I have a number of people to apologise to!
The reality is that most of us don’t even realise that so much of our world doesn’t hinge on formulae and methods. And it’s hard to believe, when we see things like “Get rock hard abs in 10 easy steps!” and “20 ways to be a millionaire” and “5 steps to make your marriage work”. Methods and procedures are everywhere we see, placed in our path sometimes to make money off us, sometimes to teach and educate us, but most of the the time we get caught into the mindset that we can achieve anything just by following a formula. Sometimes you can, but sad to say somtimes you just can’t. I’ll be honest - I really wish everything could be settled with a fixed number of steps. In a sense they can, but in a sense they also can’t.
Relationships don’t have fixed methods.
Marriages don’t have fixed methods.
Thought patterns, despite the name, don’t have fixed methods.
Feelings incited don’t have fixed methods.
All these things have a bit in common. They all have guidelines, rules that cannot and should not be broken, and principles to uphold. They also have quite a bit to do with people.
That’s right. People don’t have fixed methods. Chances are, if it’s something crucial to the heart, it doesn’t have a fixed method. I’m a scientist, and I’m also someone who believes in cultivating habits and routines for our own good, but as important as those are, I don’t think they can define everything for us - more likely that not they are just something to keep us going when we don’t feel like it. It’s kinda like running or swimming - often enough you don’t feel like it, especially when you first start off, but over time if you keep it to a routine and a habit, it becomes part of you.
That’s why sometimes I’m very annoyed and at other times I’ve been very confused at things - simply because the method I know and am familiar with doesn’t work. Some people you can poke fun at, some people you cannot. Some people deal with their friend’s sad and tough times by joking about the hardships, but you can’t joke about theirs. Some people get over an ended relationship in days, others take years and still others stay with that knife lodged in their heart or the remnants of a scar for the rest of their lives. Some people never take offense at things, others never find themselves able to forgive no matter how hard they try. There’s no one formula to these things.
And I guess it’s the same with how we find God in our own time.
My parents are of the traditional kind - they believe that they must be in a specified place of worship to find God or in a certain location. That works for them and I’m not going to discount it. I find my places of peace at various places, none of them publicly acknowledged as places of worship. The swimming pool, a Starbucks outlet, the Pigeonhole, in a friend’s house - sometimes it doesn’t even have to be a location and I can just be anywhere with my guitar and it works. Or sometimes I need to take away my guitar for it to work. What works one day doesn’t always work the next, and what works for me doesn’t necessarily work for someone else. What’s important here is that I identify what is crucial and I get to it. There are always some consistent guidelines that will hold for everyone, but everyone needs to know how it works for them and these things are unique to them.
One thing for sure though - if you never make the effort then it’s definitely never going to happen. “You always miss 100% of the shots you never take”.
Husbands, wives, sweethearts, you need to hear this as well - what works for some people doesn’t necessarily mean it will work for other people. And really, that’s what makes each person unique, isn’t it? How we get around all these problems is primarily through communication.
I think that’s probably how it works with God too. We definitely don’t know Him inside out, but as we get to spend more and more time with Him we start to ge tused to the person He is, what He’s like. He has a modus operandi, but He’s not a physical law that says “if you spend 2 hours praying, 1 hour reading the Bible, and say grace each time you start your meal, you’ll have access to my power and mind”. It’s a relationship, and as all relationships go, a few things should be pointed out.
A relationship is about the person, not about what you can gain from it. (You business networking types are going to argue to death with me about this point but I’m going to stick with it, so save your breath. )
A relationship takes time with the other party to develop.
A relationship takes deliberate steps to progress. You’ve never seen a couple start dating and then suddenly decide to get married. It will be a progression of getting to know the person and evaluating the person before you make a choice, and then making the actual decision. Why do you think the bride and groom are required to say “I do” when they get married? Have you ever seen anyone go up there and say “I don’t”?
I realize I’m very fond of putting up steps and principles to follow, and obviously I can’t resist because its a very nice thing to have around. But this time I’m going to have to bring this to an abrupt ending and just tell you: it’s not a formula. It’s not something that if you add two things together you get the result. It’s something you’re going to have to figure out by yourself, and slowly work at it. Set time to it. Make it a habit. Be intentional about it.
The rest of it? Work it out yourself :)
As I was contemplating on how we often seem to categorize people in many aspects (like what they do, their mind patterns, their strengths and weaknesses, and sometimes even their sins), the command “do not judge” indadvertedly springs to mind. Judging is something we seem to do on a daily basis, to everything and everyone, and we make decisions varying in importance from what we should eat for lunch (whether it’s healthy/tasty or not) to what’s the next step for progression in our careers. Like it or not we judge in just about everything.
Or do we?
I may be wrong, but I don’t think that’s what Jesus is trying to say. He’s most definitely not saying that we live an undiscerned life just bumbling through and taking whatever comes our way. He’s also definitely not saying that we shouldn’t think for ourselves at times (which should be balanced with a proper surrender to Him, and a wisdom from Him), and I would go so far as to suggest that He’s not saying that we don’t assess other people for who or what they are.
Assess. That’s the word.
Judging is not the same as assessing. When we prioritize things, events or people, we are already subconsciously assessing the importance of the person based on our own perspective. I don’t think it’s very wise for me to put a person who has no idea what a monkey wrench is in charge of fixing a huge piece of expensive machinery. See what I just did? I assessed the person according to his or her strengths and weaknesses.
Now, we must be careful here - we’re treading on thin ice, because the difference between judging and assessing is not often a visible one. It’s a very much internal one and it has to do with the position and reaction of the heart. Yet out of the intent of the heart, the outward expression could well be the same (similar to how nonchalance can be mistaken as faith), and those of us observing, with all good intentions, may have well taken the shortest path known to us to get to where it appears we should be - unfortunately for us, neither the path nor the destination thought to be is correct. The context of judging when told not to do so in Matthew, is that of the Sermon on the Mount - the people have been told for generations the practices of things, what to do, what rituals to carry out, and here He is, telling them that there is more to living a life close to God, a holy life, than just following practices and traditions. There is a higher standard that we are to follow, seeing as “hating someone” is tantamount to murder, and lustful eyes are tantamount to adultery.
The meaning of “judging” in this case, is the passing of a sentence - i.e. judge, jury, executioner. Over time we have allowed all three roles to merge into one, and that is what is meant by “judging”. “Assessing” on the other hand, leaves the entire room (not just a portion) for grace, and exercising wisdom in separating the sinner from the sin, the person from the attributes and abilities. We should be able to say “this person is better than another at math” without thinking less of the latter - but by “judging” another person we fit him into rules, legislations, and condemn him for which rules he has broken (“he never did study hard enough” - which in all fairness could be a completely valid observation). This is what we are asked NOT to do. By stamping a seal on him we have pronounced him and his entire life to condemnation - we are not called to hate the sinners, but the sin. If I were to judge someone, this is what goes on in my heart:
1) I would consider myself superior to the other person, either intellectually, knowledge-wise, emotionally, or spiritually. In believing so I therefore have the moral authority to pass judgment on him and declare if he is right or wrong. In this process, I would have been proud, seeing myself greater than another and thinking that I am better and therefore can discipline him. There is a sense of righteous superiority that should not be there - after all, we are all made righteous only by the blood of Jesus, and it is by grace we have been saved, through faith; not by works, so that no one can boast. But judging another and condemning him to a punishment and a place of hatred in our heart - is that not boastful of us?
2) When placing myself as the authority of what is right and what is wrong, I am essentially committing the same sin as Adam and Eve - I have decided on my own what is good and what is not good, just as Eve did when she plucked from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. This places myself above God as the moral authority - I am essentially branding the person as a sinner‚ which isn’t exactly untrue. The important point to note is that I too, am a sinner, and am firstly in no position to pass that label to another, and secondly the label is placed with the intention to cast him out, not to bring him back in to the fold. Judging is done without love.
It’s very easy to see something wrong done and then do an analysis in our heads, a running through of our own moral stand. Sometimes we can take it as a negative example, or even helpfully bring it up to the other person. I dare say more often than not we think along the lines of “I will never be like that. I’m not like that.” and we look away, averting our gaze so that we don’t soil our eyes with the sight of the deed. Sometimes we even generalize the behavior to whatever attribute group that we should observe to be most prominent.
A judgement is passed.
How should the heart react then? I’m not too sure myself. I’d like to say it should break, seeing the state of the world today - it was for that reason that Jesus was also known as a man of sorrows. But did you know that Jesus also asked his disciples to judge accordingly?
“Do not judge by appearance, but judge with right judgement.” (John 7:24) Wow. I bet most of us missed that out the last time we read through the Gospel of John. “Judge with right judgement”. This is interesting - Jesus has just told the people off for obeying the letter of the law, with complete disregard to the intent and heart of the law. “You keep the law of Moses in circumcision by doing it on the Sabbath, on the very day that My Father has set aside for you to rest and restore yourself, you forbid Me to restore another man?” To be honest, I feel like I’ve been doing that for a great deal of my life! We keep the rules to the letter - doing our Bible Study, attending church, turning up for services, serving in whatever ministries we can, keeping the commandments - but when it comes to a test of whether we have the heart of the law implanted deep inside us, we fail miserably because haven’t kept the essence of it. For all our good intentions we’ve fallen short - and we always will. And this is where skills that I have taken great care in cultivating work against me, that I observe external occurrences rather acutely (hey it’s part of my job) and turn to carrying them out to look good rather than spending the same effort cultivating my heart to be good.
There’s a vast difference between the two - and most of us don’t see it - because firstly we either shy away from “judging” totally (which really isn’t healthy, nor helpful, given our warped definition of “judging”) and secondly if we do judge, we tend to judge based on our human perceptions.
Now based on what I’ve just quoted in the Gospel of John, I’m quite inclined to believe that is a place for proper judgement in our faith. It’s also interesting to point out that when Jesus preached on judging in Matthew (Sermon on the Mount), though He did say to take out the plank in our own eye before the sawdust in our brother’s eye, He didn’t say to ignore either the plank or the speck of dust. There are areas that we should pay attention to, faults that need to be pointed out - it is often when faults are not pointed out and all remains silent for sake of “keeping the peace” or “not judging” that cults and heretical movements can form (an extreme example, I know, but I sought to bring home the point). I’ll say it again, there is a place for discernment and judgement in our faith - particularly one based on the same principles that Jesus held in His Heart (see, ultimately it all boils back down to the closeness of the relationship we have with our Father).
The idea of “judging” here extents to many other things than just seeing faults in other people. Sometimes we will see faults that pop up, but are to not condemn. Sometimes we need to discern in our actions or our interpretation of others’ actions and behavior and see what they really are - not for what we think and perceive they are on the surface. Sometimes we are called to discern paths and signs, and perhaps even interpret them (though I also feel that has to do partly with spiritual gifts). And sometimes I wonder if all this thinking is just part of my nature that I over-think things quite a bit!
As I mentioned earlier, I don’t think we are called to live an undiscerning life, just going through and letting things bounce off our shells. Perhaps there is a balance, I’d suggest, between simply being an observer and actually having to delve deeper - we can’t do it all the time - because we also should be caring for those around us. How else do we get to the core of their hurts/concerns if we don’t discern? It’s important that this discernment is not simply through human observation but also comes from God. Particularly when it comes to His people.
I’d like to turn this topic around a little bit - how often do we want people to judge us based on what we do and what we appear? It would be rather easy for most of us don’t you think - all we have to do is look good. But with one day in church and the rest of the week at work, that’s a 14.2% rate of “being good”. That honestly doesn’t sound too difficult. Better still, we get to enjoy the little things that we can get away with behind others’ backs - the small stuff that may never surface (or so we think) like gossip, taking advantage of situations to bend things to our advantage to get what we want (I know for some this is debatable, but I stand by this), the silent plans that we carry out in order to achieve things by any means possible (this is called scheming, by the way). Perhaps we have turned to looking at the externals because we can’t really bear to look at out own internal state and so we get others to not look so deep by not looking so deep Into others. If we can persuade others that they are already good people simply by what we choose to see, and we can persuade enough of them (which has been happening rather rampantly) then we too get to get away with mere appearances and attendance, hiding our hearts for one-seventh the week (or two-sevenths, for some of us), and no one’s the wiser.
If we were to bring that back to the main topic - how do you think that would qualify in “judging with right judgement”? I think that clearly qualifies as EPIC FAIL. The whole context of the Sermon on the Mount was to tell the people that the rules they have been following had certain intents, and by merely following the rules we’ve missed the point. If murder in our hearts is caused by anger (which is honestly a standard I think very very few of us can keep), then I wonder by the same law how many of us have injured another with dirty looks, uncalled-for words and comments? Lustful looking is adultery - then how many have “cheated” on our Significant Others by enticing and encouraging emotional ties with another member of the opposite sex? The standard at which we are called to uphold is impossible - this is the basis for judgement; the heart. And I’m sorry to have to remind us all, but we’ve all failed time and again.
That kind of puts a new perspective on things, doesn’t it? Now that we know we’re all sinners to God, redeemed or otherwise, we are able to look at others with the perspective of “we’re all in this together - let’s help each other get out”. That’s definitely more helpful than condemnation and walking away in disgust. At the end of the day, the core of the matter is the heart. Why it’s so easy for us to pass improper judgement on people is that we already have our preconceived notions of “right” expressions of the principles - so much that other forms of expressions don’t make the mark. This becomes a fixed set of appearances that everyone should fulfill, and we become so distracted with the letter of the law that we’ve totally forgotten the spirit of the law, and therein comes the improper judgement.
(An interesting observation comes to mind: don’t you find it interesting that a fully assured person wouldn’t be bothered by the actions as much as they would the heart? The propensity for the external is most definitely influenced by the closeness we share with our Father.)
Can we then hold each others’ hands as fellow sinners, tell each other that we have specks in our eyes (not planks I hope!) and help each other to remove them? Proper judging coupled with compassion and empathy is encouraging and leads to growth for both parties.
Will we start looking through God’s eyes and see each soul as precious, each heart for what it is?
(In Down In The Dirt, I attempt to address very real aspects of living a Christian life, well aware that not all can always be “fine and dandy”, and there will be small issues and inklings that bug us. These are observed in my own life as well as the lives of others, and though a solution may not always be present and expounded on, I do believe that sometimes these “real” issues are symptoms of deeper issues and part of life on earth is dealing with them - so let’s be real and get down there, in the dirt!)
I’ve realized that my prayer life often takes a sharp turn in either direction every now and then. Sometimes I pray all day, quite literally. Sometimes I somehow manage to avoid praying for weeks, without feeling like I should. Or I pray out of duty, out of habit, muttering off the words “thankyouJesusforthefoodinJesus’nameIprayamen” before wolfing down my Double Quarter Pounder With Cheese. Fast food, fast prayer. It’s a very nonchalant attitude toward prayer, one which recently bothered me as I watched wiser men than me pray with fervor and see them reenergised and transformed on the spot.
Perhaps it begs more than just the question “why don’t I pray”, and leads us into the arenas of “why don’t I believe it matters?”, “why don’t I think it will work?” and “why should I do it anyway?”. Or maybe I pray something and then I work tooth and limb to get it down and after that realise for all the effort I made, I could have very well not prayed, done something about it and it would have worked without any praying! It’s tantamount to having a headache, praying for healing and then popping down loads and loads of aspirin and somehow we manage to credit God working miraculously even though we all know aspirin will do the job. I’ll concede on the fact that everything can eventually trace back to God because He created all things, but I draw the line when it attributed to overly exaggerated miracles happening. That being said, what do all these, my attitude and post-prayer actions, show?
The lack of special reverence to prayer can come with many reasons:
I don’t believe that my prayers are heard. That makes total sense - if they’re not heard, why should I bother? I’m just keeping up appearances and to me that’s not something worth all the effort. I’d rather just not pray. It begs the age old question of “God are You there?”. Maybe I’ve grown tired of always asking, always seeking but in the end seeming to have to tough it out on my own. The idea of having God there to cover my back creates some sort of hole in the armor, which I would otherwise have protected if I anticipated that I’ve got to watch my own back.
Are my prayers actually working? Maybe I know my prayers are heard because I know God is omniscient. It puts back the existence of God again, but also leads us to another question - whether He cares enough to do something about your prayers. Or perhaps God is there and He cares, but since the Bible says “the prayers of a righteous man are effective”, I don’t qualify because I’m a sinner (and I know it). And that kind of nullifies my prayer. Then why bother?
Or worse still, my experience has told me that my prayers don’t get answered very often, even the pure ones that involve other people’s salvation. Jerry Sittser writes extensively about that in “Why God Doesn’t Answer Prayer” and I’ve found so many of his related experiences hauntingly familiar. Discouragement sets in and eventually I stop praying because it just doesn’t seem to be doing anything.
A combination of all these factors has sometimes caused me to wonder why bother praying when I get down to doing things and making things work. And that in turn caused me to think - is prayer simply a means to an end? A way to get blessing for what you want to do and then you whack away at it?
I can feel many of you shaking your head till your neck is sore, and at this point I will join you in saying: I’ve got it all wrong.
Prayer isn’t just for us to ask God for things (and I say just for, because it’s also part of it - and before you stone me for saying that, let me explain later on), but for us as well. When we vocalize our concerns, just as the Psalmists did, we often hear our words for themselves and realise what we are doing, where we are wrong. (I’ve got to say, I have the feeling that kind of introspection doesn’t exist very much anymore.) I think of it like a picture of a little kid asking his dad for candy - and we all love candy as kids! But very often we don’t get as much as we want. Maybe the kid doesn’t think that way, but now when we look at that scenario and we have to wonder - is it really all that bad that he doesn’t get all the candy?
So we ask God for things - some things aren’t really things we should have, or they’re in the grey areas. A particular job. This particular girl. That handsome guy. A place in a shiningly accoladed university. Not entirely wrong things to ask for, and at the very least it’s honest‚ but why do we ask for them? It turns us to our intentions, our desires, and it would do us good to pause and think if we really should want these things and for what purpose. Oh it’s so easy to glaze over and give a holy-sounding excuse, but again inside we really know that’s just for appearances. There’s nothing wrong in asking for these things, but let’s face it: some of these things are, and will be, selfish.
You see prayer isn’t just about moving God’s hand. We’ve heard of the widely mentioned idea that God chose to work through people, and to work when His people pray - it’s even mentioned in the Bible. And it’s true! But that’s not the only reason why we pray; we pray because as we draw closer in a relationship with God, we begin to exhibit His likeness. We begin to see where we went wrong, where things didn’t go as we thought they would, and see things from His eyes. I’ve caught myself many times in prayer, suddenly realising that was I was praying didn’t sound quite right a thing to bring before God, and have had to examine myself and my heart carefully.
So why don’t I pray as much as I should? Why don’t we all? It probably all comes down, at least partly, to the fact that we don’t trust God as much as we trust ourselves. We’d rather work our hands on it because that way at least we know that something’s moving in the direction we want it to - it’s about us seeing it move in our direction. In that sense, I do the work, I set the direction and objective, I see it being done and I can make changes so that I ensure that it gets where I want it to be.
It’s all about “me”. But it shouldn’t be.
Our culture has accoladed two things in particular - seemingly risky actions that pay off, and making ourselves look nice through words. At the end of the day it’s all about what I do, sometimes what I say. I’ve been quite peeved by the instances that people are just all talk and no actions, but that being said, even action is not the endgame. If I take everything into my own hands, where do I see God work - without me? How does my faith build? Prayer, like much of our life these days, has been approached from a very practical and utilitarian perspective. Is it any wonder why then we have to make Quiet Time a “habit” instead of a “desire”? We approach prayer from the mindset that we obtain something out of it - and we do! (Though I must also say that’ it’s rarely what we think we will. And when we realise that, we slow down our prayer and sometimes stop completely because it doesn’t give us the results we want. I could engineer circumstances and fit everything so nicely but even then there are things that aren’t in my control. And it’s a fine line here because there are some things we should be taking control of and there are some things we shouldn’t even touch. As a kid, when my parents took me to Toys R Us I would see the rows of toys that said “PRESS HERE” or “TRY ME” and I’d try every single one of them. Can you imagine how traumatising it was for a 4 year old when at that age I encountered an entire shelf of Tickle Me Elmos? Unfortunately for me, that trait didn’t die then, and so it’s been a constant life lesson to learn how to choose which battles I have to fight.
I don’t think we can fight everything that comes our way - we can’t hope to be in control for every instance. But then that brings up another issue - do we turn to God just because there isn’t another choice? That’s not saying much about God and His place in our lives, does it?
How David was “a man after God’s own heart” is both figurative and literal - and they were both linked. The reason why God showed so much favour on David (“man after His heart”) has been linked to the fact that he sought God for everything, even things that he thought were the right thing to do, just to get affirmation and make sure that he was in line with God’s thinking. He quite literally sought God’s heart in each matter, with a deliberate intent. And the times where he made his own decisions‚ well we know the mess he got into. But what I really like about the people like David (and Daniel) is that their prayer took things to a whole new level. They really talked to God like I would talk to someone over coffee - and He talked right back to them! I’m jealous, really, that they got to hear so clearly and I’m still struggling to start the conversation with Him. I’ve hardly moved beyond asking if He wants a long black or a skinny mocha frappacino.
So I’ve had to take the red pill and see how far the rabbit hole goes - get down to the cause, and I think if I can just change the idea that God doesn’t care, that God isn’t going to do anything, and that my plans are better than His, then perhaps realising His power and His love and His plans, I think I’d pray a lot more often.
Wouldn’t you?
(In Down In The Dirt, I attempt to address very real aspects of living a Christian life, well aware that not all can always be “fine and dandy”, and there will be small issues and inklings that bug us. These are observed in my own life as well as the lives of others, and though a solution may not always be present and expounded on, I do believe that sometimes these “real” issues are symptoms of deeper issues and part of life on earth is dealing with them - so let’s be real and get down there, in the dirt!)
What Forgiveness Is (And Isn’t)
By now most of us had heard many different descriptions and effects of what forgiveness looks like. I’m afraid this is the part that a lot of you are going to get angry with me - because I’m going to tear apart quite a few of those assumptions and mindsets. Please bear with me - my intention is not to upset nor infuriate anyone (though I’ve already stated that some of you will be), but to give perhaps just a glimmer on what forgiveness really is, against the simple saying and traditions that have been carelessly passed down. You are free to disagree with me (and of course I would love to hear why, so please contact me if you do!) but I should stress that although I think this to be true, I’m firstly only human, and secondly not able to enforce this on anyone, nor do I intend to. This is merely just a practical note on what it looks like and what it really is.
The biggest peeve I have in this area is the phrase “forgive and forget”. People, let’s get this straight - it was NOT said in the Bible. I can understand the rationale for “forgetting” after you forgive so that no grudges hang around or lingering memories to cause you hurt, but I’m not too sure about the forgiveness if you tell me that you’ve already forgotten it in a short time frame. Furthermore, if you have to forget it to forgive the person, is it really forgiving or have you just erased the memory and pretended nothing has happened? I think the converse is more true - if you totally remember the incident or the offence and yet can hold no grudge, bear no ill thought against another, then you have truly forgiven. Note that I didn’t mention anything about feeling nothing about the incident (we’ll talk a little bit on the pain felt later), because I think it’s well possible that memories can still bring back pain. Possible, but not always the case - yet the essential component here is that forgiveness doesn’t mean the crime is forgotten. Absolved, yes. Pardoned, yes. Atoned in Christ’s blood, oh yes. But not forgotten.
Why do I think this way? I may have over-thought this a tad, but I believe we are asked to give an account of our lives when we face God in heaven (assuming we get there hurhur), which then leads me to think that all the sins we’ve committed, though already forgiven, will still have to be accounted for. If things are forgotten, how can they be accounted for? Furthermore, I would think (and on this I dare say many would agree) that forgiveness is all the more powerful when the crime or sin is not forgotten! True forgiveness does not forget the crime - it is not a call to naivety, to be cheated against again, similarly the command to “turn the other cheek” does not deliberately invite the punishment to come twice. Forgiveness is not making ourselves forget what happened and treat everything like it didn’t happen - because then our hearts don’t grow. Forgiveness is instead acknowledging it happened (we cannot deny history and facts), but choosing to let it go - and we may forget it over the years, and we may not. Yet it should no longer fester in us. A clear sign that our emotions have not caught up with the will to forgive is that we harbour thoughts of vengeance, or we plot to retaliate, or subconsciously think of arguments and comebacks, or orchestrate and imagine conversations to the other person in which they are dumbfounded and you win. Or you could draft multiple emails to be saved in anticipation that the person slips up and you have an entry point to getting even by sending all the flaming lines of text. Or you could blog specifically and explicitly about it. The list could go on - and I’m sure you can think of some examples yourself too. Conversely, we know we’ve forgiven when these are all absent (remember, forgiveness is primarily for our own benefit!) and our hearts are silent about the matter. You’ll probably be asking about whether we can still care for the person, as Jesus asked us to love each other, but if you’re talking about forgiveness right after something has occurred I’d advise to not think about that for the time being…there will come a time when you will be in a position to do so.
That being said, can things go back to normal after forgiveness has been given? Well…yes and no. Yes, wounds will be healed, and situations will be restored, and maybe even friendships reconciled. But no, I don’t believe somehow that everything will magically return to exactly the same way it was before. Just like how Frodo and friends in The Lord Of The Rings may have slain Sauron and the ringwraiths but his scar from when he was stabbed still remains, I think we will (and should) bear the scar that has been made. And scars heal, as wounds do, but they change things too - so I wouldn’t be surprised if things don’t go back to the same as they were before. Can you expect the divorcee to have the same impressions as she had on marriage and romance? Or the sober victim of a drunk driving accident to ever look at alcohol consumption the same way? Forgiveness may have been dealt, but just as the crime has been committed, the damage is also done and some damages are permanent.
Despite not forgetting, forgiveness most certainly isn’t using whatever has happened as a leverage point against the person. It is true that what has happened has happened, but mere courtesy alone demands that one should never use the past as a weapon to strike another. Having heard this, can you imagine the amount of unforgiveness that goes around marriages at times? I mean no offence to those married, and I think everyone quarrels from time to time - but when you hear things being raked up out of the past you somehow know the arguments will escalate.
Forgiveness may well be painful. And rightly so. You are giving up what you deem to be your “rights”, but you are doing so in an expression of love for your God. Should you ever find you have reached the point that you can easily forgive any wrong done against you without so much an inkling of hesitation in your heart, then please let me know who you are so I can put myself under your venerable tutelage. Given that one doesn’t forget something so deep so easily, the greater the “crime” the harder it seems to be to forgive. And that’s the beauty of it all doesn’t it?
So what exactly is forgiveness? (and with this I bring this series of posts to an end). Given that it’s not a feeling nor an explicit command, I’m led to say this - I think forgiveness is firstly an act of will, secondly a sacrifice of surrender, and thirdly an expression of worship and obedience. It means we choose to do so, we give up our thoughts of vengeance and our rights to get even in doing so, and by doing so we honor our God in emulating His character.
Forgiveness is, ultimately, a self sacrificial act of love. And the only way to really get there is not through nonchalance nor cynicism and definitely not through legalism and shallowness. The only way to truly forgive is to know your God, and thereby know love. Forgiveness is a relational thing, something that screams against the fighting nature we have cultivated so long. That’s precisely why so many men (and women) harbor unforgiveness; it contradicts our inner pride. It’s all about “me”.
You’re only half right. Forgiveness isn’t just about you, but what it will do for you. The same applies to unforgiveness as well. To recognize that all sin is against God takes us down from that pedestal and puts us in the situation where we are able to lay our pains and cries before God, as David did.
We may well clench our teeth and say “I’m going to forgive him even if it kills me!” and I applaud your determination. But it could well kill you, because forgiveness isn’t something we can force. A choice must be made, and then the source of love and subsequently forgiveness must be sought.
At the end of the day, forgiveness turns us back to God, and that’s where we should go - or at least be making our way there.
Author’s Note: As I was writing this, I was struggling (and still am) with bitterness and anger, and I felt extremely hypocritical writing this. But it helped me to recognize that we are not perfect, and these imperfections can either turn us to God or away from Him. I’ve slipped back more than once, and I’m ashamed to admit it - but forgiveness is a choice that we have to make and stand by it regardless of how we feel. I encourage you to draw on our Father’s Love to strengthen you, and let the bitterness, anger and unforgiveness ease into His hands.
(In Down In The Dirt, I attempt to address very real aspects of living a Christian life, well aware that not all can always be “fine and dandy”, and there will be small issues and inklings that bug us. These are observed in my own life as well as the lives of others, and though a solution may not always be present and expounded on, I do believe that sometimes these “real” issues are symptoms of deeper issues and part of life on earth is dealing with them - so let’s be real and get down there, in the dirt!)
I’ve always had a struggle to forgive another person for things done. C’mon let’s admit it: we’ve all struggled to forgive someone at one point of time or another. Maybe some of you have reached the stage where all things done on earth are temporal to you and can truly believe that God will handle everything and I salute and applaud you for your faith. Maybe some of you are on the path there, and have learned to hold things lightly, to the extent that even great costs to you are easily let go because you know that Our Great God has it all under control and it’s all part of His Plan. I even personally know some of you people whom I’m describing - but unfortunately I’m not there yet, and I dare say a lot of us who look like we’re there haven’t really got it either. This feels like a big topic so I’m going to have to break it into parts: the first part being…
The Need to Forgive
To be honest this is something that intrigued me both ways: firstly, why is there a need to forgive another person in the first place, and secondly why is it such a struggle (or was, depending on which stage you are at right now)? I’m going to cover it in this order because I think when we fully realize why we need to forgive and what it does to us, for us, then the struggle is partly lessened (though i will still mention briefly on certain potential causes why the struggle will exist).
Is forgiveness a command? Many of us, when thinking of forgiveness, think of the “seventy times seven” put forth by Jesus - in which I believe He’s actually implying that you shouldn’t even keep count! I’ve also been bothered by the part on the Lord’s Prayer that says “forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us” - does that mean we only get forgiven for our sins when we forgive another? Better still, “if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.” Wait..put down your sacrifice when your brother is the one with something against you? It’s not you harboring unforgiveness there even, is it? These are question I quite frankly don’t really know much to interpret, and they may even be out of context (the first is on forgiveness, but the second from the Lord’s prayer tends to be focused on attitude in our prayers, and the last in the context of anger incited on another person).
Bear with me as I try to breach this little bit here, a detour to the original point: perhaps forgiveness is more for ourselves than for the other person. Think about it - what does the other person really benefit from you forgiving them? Peace of mind, perhaps? What if they don’t even bother if they’re wronged you? If they don’t care if you’re wronged anyway? If they don’t even care about you - do you think it matters to them if they are forgiven? But forgiveness, on our part, assuming we are the one who needs to do the forgiving, helps us to release the anger and rage that otherwise will build up over time, letting grudges form. The idea that forgiveness does just as much (perhaps more, from my experience!) for the human forgiver as the forgiven which is actually in line with pretty much all of God’s commands to keep us in tune with Him! I’ve noticed that the times that I’ve had to truly dig up the will to forgive (and that was a hard thing to do in light of what has been done) creates a peace in place of the potential grudge held against another. It makes it easier for me to talk with God, to feel His presence, without and overshadowing of latent negative emotions hanging over me, whether I realize it or not. It helps us to gain faith, trust in God, because forgiveness is its own form of sacrifice - the willingness to put our rights down and show love.
Now don’t get all big-headed when you finally manage to forgive someone from the depths of your heart! There is a danger (and I won’t sugar-coat it) that we become proud in forgiving another, thinking we are “holier than thou” because we are able to do so. Forgiveness is not pride-inducing, and that’s a major red flag we all should look out for. If “forgiveness” induces pride, then we have to realign ourselves in humility because we have started to consider ourselves more noble, more holy than the other person, thinking that because we are “better” therefore we are able to “forgive”. Or vice versa. Forgiveness should elicit neither a proud nor nonchalant stance toward the situation - I believe forgiveness produces a propensity to love the person! (Provided any hurt has been grieved over and eventually overcome - hey if there was no hurt then there would have been no need to forgive, yea?)
So back to the question: is forgiveness a command? I honestly can’t think of any place where I’ve read God say “THOU SHALT FORGIVE”, and I’m frankly not too sure about whether it can be taken as a command. But if I follow my own experience, I can tell you this - the heart of God most certainly does forgive each and every sin. That’s why Jesus died on the cross, long before many of us were born. All sins, past, present and future, have been paid for, atoned for, and no longer hold any weight in the Heavenly Court Of Law. If God’s heart is as illustrated as the behavior of the father in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, without hesitation, to forgive our sins, then do we really need a command to ask us to forgive others?
Why not just follow the heart of God?
(In Down In The Dirt, I attempt to address very real aspects of living a Christian life, well aware that not all can always be “fine and dandy”, and there will be small issues and inklings that bug us. These are observed in my own life as well as the lives of others, and though a solution may not always be present and expounded on, I do believe that sometimes these “real” issues are symptoms of deeper issues and part of life on earth is dealing with them - so let’s be real and get down there, in the dirt!)
The Struggle to Forgive…and why?
I think the struggle to forgive reveals more aspects of our own heart than anything else. The decision (or lack thereof) to do so also reveals quite a bit! Let’s get to the hard bit: why is forgiveness such a struggle at times? We’ve all had those few times (ok maybe a lot of times for me) where I really don’t feel like forgiving that person who’s done me wrong. It’s as simple as that - but let’s dissect that little sentence up and see what’s really underneath it as we touch on each aspect just briefly.
“I don’t feel like forgiving the person”
When we say this statement as a whole, we have to admit that our focus is on the person and what he or she has done. Why we don’t feel like forgiving the person is because he or she has done something against us, and therefore we feel wronged in the process. There was an action taken or a word said that hit us and hurt us, and now we’re struggling to give full forgiveness to the other party simply because of the action done.
Let me first say that this is a totally natural reaction/thought process, so don’t go beating yourself up about it (but that’s no excuse to let it take root either). We have been so brought up in the world these days (and I’m assuming that you’ve had enough years in this world that you can actually read all this and understand it, which is really more than enough years needed to be integrated into the world) to take good care of ourselves that once our well-placed defences are broken through and we’re injured, we seek recourse for it. The focus is on the person and what was done. What we fail to see is what it has done and what it is doing to us.
I’m not asking us to be self-centred here, nor am I saying that we should wholly focus on the pain and the hurt and the wrong that has been inflicted upon and “oh GOSH how tough things are now that I can’t bear to wake up in the mornings” or stuff like that. What I’m trying to bring across here is the idea that forgiveness doesn’t start from the person to be forgiven, it starts from the one doing the forgiving.
It starts with us.
Do you remember any instance where you were the offender instead of the offended? How did forgiveness work? Maybe you went back and asked for it - and then it was given. Maybe you didn’t ask for it for whatever reason (I’ll assume innocence of the situation and you really didn’t know what you did), and forgiveness came to you eventually. Either way, it was an act and a choice on the part of the forgiver, whether you initiated the process or not. The onus of forgiveness is on the person doing the forgiving, regardless of repentance or not.
We first need to realize that forgiveness is not focused on the other person as a reason to forgive, but comes from obeying the heart of God in His character.
“I don’t feel like forgiving…”
There could be a million reasons for this, but there is one underlying cause - we probably don’t think the other person deserves it. Let’s face it, we don’t want to dish out forgiveness; we want to enact justice. Because that’s what it’s all about right, punishing those who deserve to be punished and rewarding those who deserve to be rewarded. And if we truly believed that the person deserves to be forgiven then it shouldn’t be a problem right?
Take a step back and read those lines again - at one point of time, we might not have said but I’d think we definitely have felt it. We want justice. Vengeance. Not to let the wrongs that have befallen us simply slide past! After all, God is just, isn’t He? They can’t get off scot free!
But there’s a simple flaw in this statement: in this seemingly objective decision we’ve made, we’ve used our own definition of “justice” in the equation. Yet somehow I don’t think we need a reminder that our sense of “justice” isn’t exactly the same sense of “justice” that God has. I’ll make this explicitly clear: whoever it is that has wronged you may not deserve to be forgiven - but neither do you.
Wow. Did that hit? It should. The revelation of our own heart as we think that is that we are a self-righteous people. We all are, it’s probably rooted deep inside those deceitful hearts of ours. We have felt the right to be judge, jury, and executioner, when in fact the reality is that we are the ones standing on the convicted’s stand being tried. Is it unfair? Sure it is. It’s a little hard to stomach this but when we realise the entire world is unfair and we only stop complaining when it’s unfair in our favour, then suddenly things become a little less hazy. We don’t think someone hasn’t deserved the forgiveness because perhaps he hasn’t earned it. Or because he shows no remorse for what he’s done. Or because he doesn’t want to change his ways anyway.
When I “heard” myself thinking that, I stopped to think what difference it would be if Jesus were thinking of forgiving me. I realised He already has - even knowing that I would use His forgiveness as cheap grace at times. He knew with all certainty what I was going to do, and He knew that I would still sin, and yet in His mercy He still forgave me, ahead of time. It gives a whole new perspective in that very example of divine and perfect forgiveness was first of all done at a cost (we’ll get to that later), and secondly done despite the full knowledge that the forgiven (and that would be me) wouldn’t necessarily correct all his (my) ways after being forgiven. Did I deserve it? Nope, definitely not. But that’s the magic of forgiveness, isn’t it - that it says more about the forgiver than the forgiven. Maybe, to play a pun, that’s why it’s called forGIVEness - because it’s given and not earned.
“I don’t feel…”
Well, firstly whoever said forgiving was primarily an emotion? I’m not dissing the fact that you don’t feel like it - often times I don’t feel like it either. But here comes the clincher - forgiveness is primarily an act of the will, then secondly an act of emotion. Forgiveness first takes the words (and be sure to hold to them!) “I forgive you”, and then later lets the emotions catch up to it. Think about it - have you ever had the intense desire to want to forgive someone for something he or she has wronged you? Don’t feel bad if you haven’t - it rarely happens. More often than not we say it even though we don’t feel like it, and (I would hope) that the words we speak bind us to moving in that direction of forgiveness. The very reason why forgiveness is so hard is because it’s against the eye-for-an-eye instinct that is so well ingrained into us. It’s one of the things that needs to be acted on first and the emotions will follow up later, as important as feelings are.
Some people just don’t want to forgive another - it makes them feel justified. “Something wrong has been done and I SHOULD feel an anger against it. Things must be put right!” It is this very theme that makes many movies Oscar Award Nominees and Box Office Hits - a person, rising up against injustice against all odds and in the end the good guy wins. And to be honest it feels good to have that anger well up against injustice, doesn’t it? It makes us feel that we are moral people, and have a sense of uprightness, and when we see or hear people who don’t feel that same sense of disgust at injustice we think “what is wrong with you? Is your mind warped?”
Once again, we have placed ourselves as the benchmark, as is our habit for so many things as humans - our self-righteousness seems to be evident in all aspects! And thus we feel that our anger is justified and therefore should not be quelled - at the cost of developing a bitterness in our heart and a dissatisfaction toward the ways of justice. Worse still, a resentment to how God handles things, because we believe we know what is right and what should be done. And that brings us to the last point.
“I…”
Earlier I mentioned that the focus of the act of forgiveness is not whether the person has repented or not - it is up to us to decide and make a choice to forgive. But here I want to bring across the other extreme perspective - it’s not entirely about us either. It doesn’t prove that we are more holy, more mature, more giving if we make that choice, because forgiveness wasn’t ours to give in the first place!
The very reason why we choose not to forgive is often because we are focused on ourselves - and strangely enough this goes in tandem with focus on everything else. “I have been wronged”, “I have been hurt”, “I have been cheated”, and so on - and again I feel that it’s necessary to say that it is not wrong to feel this way. But it becomes wrong and harmful for us when we allow for this to seep into our hearts and we harbour unforgiveness in the process (we’ve already talked about what happens then, and therefore the need to forgive).
There have been times where I have felt wronged, whether it was intended or not, whether it was even real or just imagined, the feelings were there. Once again, thoughts flash back to Jesus - when He was wronged, hanging on the cross, mocked and beaten, bloody and bruised from the abuse; probably the ultimate example of being wronged. His words? “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” There is something deep in these words - it was not only unconditional and done without repentance from those who committed the sin, but it sounds pretty much like a request for the Heavenly Father to forgive them. Why not just “Father, I forgive them, because they know not what they do?” Why couldn’t Jesus, being fully man and fully God, just pass that forgiveness onto them, so that there would be no crime? I wonder if the lesson there to learn is that forgiveness is passed by One who has all authority to forgive. Ravi Zacharias states in “The Grand Weaver” that the moral code lies above man - it rests with God, who is the ultimate definition of morality. Only one who is above the crime can forgive the crime.
So far there is a pattern in all the reasons for a struggle to forgive another - and that is simply “I”. We presume to stick to our own moral code, we want to feel justified in anger so that we can convince ourselves that we have a higher ground and understanding, and we rely on our own emotions to determine whether forgiveness is warrented or not. But we forget many things in our anger and pain: that forgiveness (as mentioned before) is really more for the forgiver than the forgiven, that it reveals much in our heart, and also that forgiveness is God’s to give in the first place. When we accept that we are ALL sinners, that we are ALL undeserving of forgiveness for crime against The Most High, I believe our hearts take a new position on forgiveness; if He has forgiven me, what right do I have not to forgive another? The parable of the King and the debtors comes to mind.
Perhaps for those who are still struggling, either with the act of forgiving, or the fact that a lot of this hits home, I want to suggest two things:
1) You may want justice, but justice is not yours to act on. I know we have been enamoured by all the childhood shows (and even for me in budding adulthood) of Superman and Batman and X-men and all the instances where vigilantes fight for justice against crime and evil. I too still dream of making many things in the world right, and I do believe it’s a good motivation - not to act on our own, but to do what is pleasing in God’s eyes. The Psalmists write many times over about injustice in the world - many times from personal accounts, so much that I began to be amazed at how much was written, even throughout the Bible, about wrongdoings and injustice. But there’s an echoing theme throughout the Bible, and it’s even explicitly stated in parts of the Psalms: Vengeance is God’s.
Maybe in that light why we cannot forgive at times is back to the big “I” - we believe we have to make things right. We believe we have the power to (and in a sense we do, but there are appropriate reactions to circumstances), and we want to act on that firm sense of justice that we think is so objective. This is something we can all avoid - when I speak of hurts, I make it clear that pains and grievances are spoken of only when preceded by the words “I feel”. It doesn’t sound like much but the detachment from fact and absolutes helps me to keep in mind that these are things that are from my perspective, from my experience, and are in no way taken as absolute truth. Many times it has helped me to keep a focused mind in dealing with situations and definitely in quelling anger. Yet even as I write this I must confess that anger and hurt still well up in my heart, remembering those times and circumstances (and we’ll mention something about that in the next section).
The recurring theme is obvious - the person in the unfortunate state always turns to God, there is a blatantly honest pouring of frustrations and hurts and anger to God directed at the enemy, and then there is praise for God and trust that He will handle the situation. I often marvel at how David’s Psalms have such an absolute trust that God can and will handle everything that comes his way - particularly so with all the chances he had to simply take over the throne, knowing that God’s blessing was with him to be king after all. I believe this only came to David because he was assured that God loved him, and would definitely take care of him - for it is only in risk and danger that trust is formed.
2) The first step in forgiving another is to forgive ourselves. We often carry our own burden far heavier than we should have - and unforgiveness toward another stems easily when we have forgotten how to forgive ourselves.
We need to understand that we are no better, in God’s eyes, than the next sinner, for ALL have sinned. There is no “greater sin” or “lesser sin”, just “sin” that mars the soul and blocks us from God. It’s not a matter of who is more righteous - none of us are. Neither is it a matter of how lightly we have been offended. I will say this upfront - it matters, and that’s why it hurts. But it is also precisely because we have delivered a more grievous hurt to an Innocent One, that we need to understand that the one who is hurt most in the whole situation is still Him.
That’s not easy to believe - I find myself often asking God whether He really cares that i’m feeling such, whether He’s listening to me, and why He’s allowed all this to happen. I don’t often get answers to those questions. But sometimes I have to admit - it feels like there’s someone crying right there with me.
Still struggle with forgiveness? Maybe it’s a sign pointing you to God again - spend some time with Him. Not plotting, not with any agendas. Just some blatant honest time with Him, maybe getting to know Him a little more, pouring out your heart to Him and telling Him how you feel.
Believe me, He’s listening.
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