Daily Reminders to Forgive

What’s the most crucial of all relational issues? That’s easy. It’s forgiveness.

A woman once approached the late author Lewis Smedes, a man who came as close as anyone to being a contemporary expert on the challenge of forgiving, shortly after he spoke at a seminar. She said, “I appreciate what you have to say about forgiveness. But I think my forgiver is broken.” Smedes wisely answered, “I think all of our forgivers are broken.” He went on to note that, at best, most of our forgivers are in need of constant repair.

Despite our sincere hopes to the contrary, forgiveness is usually not a one-and-done exercise. I’ve heard people who have been deeply wounded by others announce bravely, sometimes only a few weeks after suffering great trauma, “I’ve forgiven that drunk driver,” or, “I’ve gotten past the fact that my ex betrayed me.”

I do believe that genuine forgiveness is possible. God makes it possible. God can put into our hearts a power to forgive and to release the stranglehold of you-owe-me or I’ll-get-even-with-you that typically comes with searing wounds. But forgiveness is a process. It may take years. Smedes believed that some hurts are like heavy bags of pebbles that we feel compelled to lug around; but pebble by pebble, day by day, we can let go of the hurt. Through prayer and dependence on God’s grace we can gradually stand upright again, unburdened by the weight of resentment.

When I think of those whom I have needed to forgive over the years, three people usually come to mind. Interestingly I still experience almost daily reminders of my need to claim a fresh “letting go” in my relationships with them.

The first is my father. The occasional turbulence that we experienced during my high school years was epitomized by an event that happened one Sunday afternoon. My dad insisted that I learn to drive the stick shift on our family’s Volkswagen Beetle. My slow learning curve, after all, was forcing the rest of the family to adjust the availability of our automatic transmission car to meet my needs. My older brother and mom had been giving me stick shift lessons, and I was entirely happy with their mentoring. But dad wanted results now.

My blood pressure was already high when I got into the driver’s seat of the Beetle, and I’m sure my dad’s was, too, when he entered the passenger side. There isn’t much room inside a Beetle, and the air was thick with emotion. I turned the ignition, engaged the clutch, and shifted into reverse. Except it wasn’t reverse. It was drive. I hit the gas pedal and the Beetle lurched into a tree alongside our driveway.

I can still remember the hurtful words we spoke to each other. I got out of the car and never got back into the driver’s side again. To this day, I still cannot drive a standard transmission car. All that happened almost 40 years ago. I do believe I have forgiven my father, and I think he has forgiven me. But virtually every time I see someone drive a stick, I think of my dad and that painfully awkward day…and I need to go back again and receive the grace of God that alone can heal such long-term hurts.

I also am reminded of a college friend, whom we’ll call Dave. Dave was a bit reckless. He liked to show me up. Dave and I were both sufficiently insecure that we competed for the attention of the group of students we hung around.

One winter break we journeyed to southern Michigan, where we took part in an exceedingly cold retreat at a camp. One of the highlights of our time was the opportunity to bounce down the local snowy slopes atop giant inner tubes. Just as I shoved off on a tube overloaded with screaming collegiate humanity, Dave came charging toward us at full speed. He piled on. My right leg was thrust outward at a strange angle. “Dave, get off!” I shouted. “Come on, McDonald, you won’t get hurt.”

But I did get hurt. When our tube hit a huge mogul, my right big toe was crunched. I limped around and felt sorry for myself the rest of the retreat…and resented Dave. But that was only the beginning. The long-term effect has been an ever-protruding bunion on my right toe and accompanying nerve damage. It’s especially painful when I have to stand for long stretches of time. And when might that be? When I preach on Sunday mornings…presenting sermons about oh, I don’t know, forgiveness, maybe.

I haven’t seen Dave for years. I know I have forgiven him for that silly moment on the slopes. But when I put my socks on in the morning, and I am tempted to go back to feeling sorry for myself, God calls me yet again to release any lingering emotional claims I have on Dave.
Finally, there’s a fellow with whom I’ve had an ongoing theological debate. He’s a great guy, really. But we’ve never been able to see eye to eye on about 50 Bible verses, all of which swirl around the same subject. Hardy a time goes by when I pick up my Bible that I don’t find myself in close proximity to one of those verses, and I am reminded of our pointed discussions more than a decade and a half ago. Isn’t Bible reading supposed to be a refuge from painful thoughts? Ironically, sometimes our encounters with God’s Word can prompt those uncomfortable memories.

When it comes to forgiveness, feelings can be decidedly unreliable seismometers. We may sense emotional earthquakes that aren’t really happening. I’ve come to the conclusion, however, that God allows such tremors in my life for a reason. They are ongoing opportunities to revisit the very nature of forgiveness.

By God’s grace, he forgives me. By God’s grace, I can forgive others. And by God’s grace, I pray that others will choose to forgive me for the myriad hurtful and foolish things I have inflicted on them – matters that may be unknown to me but have become a 40-year journey of letting go for someone else.

Meanwhile, I’m making progress. But I still have a ways to go. Just watch my reaction when you drive by in your VW Beetle.

Osama bin Laden is the world’s most wanted man. He may in fact be the most wanted fugitive in world history. He is the prime suspect in the September 11, 2001, terror attacks (which he has called “blessed”), and there is currently a $50 million bounty on his head.

What Western authorities know about bin Laden is that he is tall and lanky; at six-foot-four-inches, he may suffer from a genetic disorder called Marfan syndrome. He is one of 54 known children of Mohammed bin Laden – the only son of his father’s tenth wife. He himself has been married four times, and has fathered as many as two dozen children. He has been publicly disowned by his family, and his Saudi Arabian citizenship has been revoked. For more than a decade he has managed to stay under the radar of the world’s most sophisticated intelligence agencies. He is a man without a country or a safe bed.

Bin Laden is known to be exceedingly wealthy. He is also exceedingly committed to a radical interpretation of the Islamic principle of jihad, or holy war. Whereas mainstream Muslims have traditionally understood jihad to be a command to defend their faith (with force, if necessary), bin Laden declared in a 1998 fatwa (or binding edict) that it is a “duty” for Muslims to kill Americans and their allies, including civilians, women, and children, “in any country in which it is possible to do it.”

Through his formation of the radical Islamic group Al-Qaeda, bin Laden has endeavored to do just that. In addition to 9/11, he allegedly masterminded the 1993 attack on the World Trade Center; the slaughter of German tourists in EgyptU.S. embassies in Tanzania and Kenya in 1998; and the attack on the U.S.S. Cole that same year. in 1997; the bombing of the

Why is Osama so angry? Why does he picture the United States as the epicenter of evil?

Like many fundamentalist Muslims, he is outraged at the decadence of Western culture. He decries our continuing support of the nation of Israel. He is a committed opponent of Christian attempts to evangelize Muslim nations, and uses the language of war to describe what he calls Western imperialist incursions into the Middle East in order to secure oil.

It’s safe to say that the most frequently asked question concerning Osama bin Laden is the one that keeps the lights on at CIA Headquarters at night: Where is he right now? Let’s briefly consider, however, another question – one that ought to compel us to think long and hard: What would Jesus say to Osama bin Laden?

We must obviously approach such a question with great humility. Unlike God, we cannot claim to know the breadth or depth of anyone’s true circumstances or motives. Nor should we respond in a flip or cynical manner, as if Jesus would say the kinds of words we tolerate on irreverent T-shirts. But our response need not be sheer guesswork. In the New Testament’s four biographies of Jesus, which are known as gospels, we gain a wealth of insight into the mind of the one who claimed to be God’s Son.

If we imagine Jesus speaking four words to Osama bin Laden, they might be these:

Stop! Jesus made it clear that “all who draw the sword will die by the sword.” Violence is not the pathway to justice or peace, even though it has been a reflexive response of generals and presidents and gang leaders and terrorists for thousands of years. When given the chance to fight for his kingdom, Jesus chose sacrificial death instead – and thus released a power that continues to change human lives not by compulsion, but from the inside out.

Think! Is there a shred of evidence that revenge actually works? Bin Laden has said, “We treat others like they treat us… Those who kill our women and our innocent, we kill their women and their innocent, until they stop doing so.” But only in countries like South Africa, where the cycles of payback have been broken by miraculous gifts of forgiveness, has the killing ever stopped. Jesus provided this counter-intuitive counsel: “Do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the law and the prophets.”

Learn! Love is more powerful than hatred. Jesus did more than merely speak such words. He demonstrated that laying down one’s own life is more transforming than taking another’s, or sending suicide bombers into crowded markets or embassies or jetliners. We cannot embrace evil and serve God at the same time.

Surrender! We may find it impossible or even repugnant to imagine, but God loves Osama bin Laden. It’s never too late…even for hardened murderers. The world’s first global emissary for the Christian message, the apostle Paul, was originally a zealous exterminator of Jesus’ followers. Paul never got over the fact that God overwhelmed him with mercy and grace, putting him on an entirely different path.

In truth, we don’t know precisely what Jesus might say to Osama bin Laden. But we do know what Jesus is saying to us about the world’s most wanted man: We must pray for him. We must ask God to open the eyes of one of history’s darkest and most twisted individuals…even as we thank God for graciously opening ours.