The Practice of Forgiveness (Forgiveness VIII)

How, then, do we practice forgiveness? Practice may be the perfect word, because we may have to “remove our hands” time and again, until it becomes a habit in our souls. It’s rare and perhaps miraculous when forgiveness is one-and-done, especially if the betrayal cut deeply. More often, forgiveness is a dedicated practice of repetition as we continually submit our mind and emotions to our spirit, making a choice to forgive.[1] It’s no accident that in the Lord’s Prayer—Jesus’ template for daily prayer—the focal point of our petitions is, “Lord, forgive my sins, just as I forgive others.”[2]

I make the Lord’s Prayer a daily practice of prayer. After a time of quiet breathing, sitting in the place beyond words where I seek to empty myself before God, I begin to engage language and prayer through the prayer Jesus gave us.[3] I pause with each phrase, savoring the thought and seeking to follow the Spirit’s leading—asking should I stay here for a bit? If so, I add my own words to, “Let your will be done” or “Deliver me from evil,” or whatever phrase gives me pause. Sometimes each of the phrases does. And when I come to “forgive my sins as I forgive others,” I think through whom I need to forgive and what offense I need to release. I simply say, “I forgive…” and name them by name. Sometimes the same name (or names) comes up for a week or month at a time. Sometimes it comes up for longer. Sometimes, thank God, I find I no longer need to release forgiveness over a specific person, for something has become complete in my soul. There is no formula in following the Spirit, there is only a willingness to be open, to explore, and to respond. By choosing to forgive each day, we create space for the Holy Spirit within us. And if we create that space, He will transform us.

There is a flip side to forgiving, too, which is a willingness to confess our own faults, failures, and weaknesses.[4] So not only do I spend time identifying, by name, the people I need to forgive, I also bring to mind all the ways I need to be forgiven by others, and how I need to be forgiven and made whole by God. I give thanks for the mercy of God, who includes me when I am still unsorted. And I search and examine my conscience to see if there’s anyone to whom I need to go and ask forgiveness, remembering that faith is an action, not a concept. Faith always takes steps for the sake of love. If I find something that burns in my conscience, I commit to seek reconciliation as soon as possible. 

Indeed, the flip side of choosing to forgive is choosing to confess. We are called to be quick to forgive (or at least, quick to choose to forgive, no matter how long the process takes), and also quick to confess. We are also called to be quick to acknowledge our failures and to ask for forgiveness. This, too, is humbling, and it can be difficult. Asking forgiveness is quite different than saying “I’m sorry” or “I apologize.” The literal definition of “an apology” is “a defense.” Asking forgiveness, rather, is about dropping our defenses. “Will you forgive me?” shifts the focus from me and my sorrow and onto you and your pain, which is the shift that love always makes. And just as Jesus makes the work of forgiving others urgent and critical, so he makes the work of seeking forgiveness an imperative. He says, for example, that if we become aware of someone we have offended, we should leave even our most pious acts of worship and instead go to that person right away.[5]When was the last time you left a church service because you realized you had wronged someone and needed to make it right? 

All of this is challenging, which is why following Jesus is not for the faint of heart. But forgiving others (and seeking forgiveness) is part of how we allow ourselves to be stripped, so that we can be comforted by God. If we are not willing to be emptied, we cannot be filled. There is a death in the letting go that forgiveness demands. There is always death, of a sort, in surrender. No one likes to lose the mental and emotional narrative that they’ve been telling. When we’ve been wronged, it’s oddly comforting to hold onto the offense because it allows us to focus on ourselves. To forgive can feel like some precious part of us is being ripped away. We can feel a bit like Gollum dropping the One Ring, feeling the loss of something that has come to feel like a piece of ourselves. But Jesus calls us into this suffering, which is the only way out of our old, tired narratives and into God’s bigger story of wholeness and redemption. Spiritual practices allow us to enter preemptively into suffering rather than just letting suffering blindside us in life. Forgiveness is a special sort of “denying ourselves” and “picking up our cross,” but it’s a suffering that can lead us into the life of God.[6]

For all of these readings in one place, order my book 'Learning to Live and Love Like Jesus.'

[1] Again, see Romans 8 where Paul discusses the choice to live by the Spirit of God rather than by “the flesh.”

[2] Matthew 6:9-15. Notice that the prayer ends in verse 13 and then Jesus, in v 14-15, immediately returns to the matter of forgiveness. 

[3] See “A Practical Order for Daily Prayer” in ‘Chapter 12, The Grounded Life: Prayer.’

[4] See ‘Chapter 6: Confession and Repentance.’

[5] Matthew 5:23-24.

[6] Luke 9:23.