Forgiving Yourself

Instead of your shame there shall be a double portion . . . they shall have everlasting
joy. (v. 7)

Lord, we know you forgive us. Help us to forgive ourselves.

Steve was assaulted with nightmares. The guilt for his role in that long-ago crime
tortured his mind. Often he woke up drenched in sweat. His waking hours seemed like a bad
dream; when he fell asleep, it was worse.

What memory robs you of joy? What conversation triggers deep stabs of pain? What past
event stirs depression, remorse, or bad dreams? “When our memory controls us, we are then
the puppets of the past,” writes Alexandra Asseily, a peace activist and psychotherapist
in Beirut, Lebanon.

Only by actively engaging our memories through confession are we able to truly heal
them. Memories don’t disappear, but the pain can. Asseily continues, “Forgiveness lets us
let go of the pain of the memory . . . we can have the memory, but it doesn’t control
us.”

Isaiah 61 is a chapter of promise and proclamation. It gave the Israelites hope for the
future. Isaiah assures his people they will one day be free from their Babylonian
conquerors.

Our hope is here. The Messiah has come. “In Christ,” grace sets us free from captivity,
from the powerful bonds of sin and shame. When we follow Jesus, we give him our lives, all
of it. There is nothing he doesn’t already know, nothing that separates us from his love
(Rom. 8:35). Tell Jesus your story. He forgives you. Ask him to help you forgive
yourself.

Breathing Forgiveness

And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you? (v. 33)

Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who have trespassed against us. Amen.

Few atrocities have been as horrendous as the Holocaust. It is difficult to understand
cruelty and suffering on such a scale. Corrie ten Boom survived the Ravensbruck death
camp, but her emotional scars ran deep. Jesus healed her heart and Corrie dedicated the
rest of her life to sharing God’s love and forgiveness with others.

One night, after a speaking engagement in Germany, a man approached. He had been a
guard at Ravensbruck but was now a Christian. “I know that God has forgiven me,” he
explained, “but I would like to hear it from your lips as well, Fraulein. Will you forgive
me?”

Corrie writes that she stood there with “coldness clutching her heart.” She knew
forgiveness was a scriptural command, but the emotions to act were not there. Thinking of
all that God had forgiven her, she cried, “I forgive you, brother!” Immediately the power
of God’s love surged through her. She writes, “Forgiveness is not an emotion, but an act
of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart.”

Like the servant in Matthew 18, we have been forgiven much. Sometimes we simply must
will ourselves to forgive others. Like breathing in and out, we receive and extend this
gift. Forgiveness is like air: life depends on it.

Receiving Divine Forgiveness

Her sins, which are many, are forgiven. (v. 47)

Lord, thank you that when we draw near to you, you meet us with love and forgiveness.

How can we possibly receive God’s forgiveness? We’ve done too many bad things. How
could God ever forgive us? What must we do?

The woman of Luke 7 knows exactly what to do. This woman “who was a sinner” (think
“prostitute”) comes searching for Jesus. She’s fully aware of her faults and sins; in
fact, so is everyone in town. She doesn’t come begging for help, not even to say she’s
sorry for her awful life. She only wants to draw near, express her love, and worship him.
Why? Because she knows that in his presence, nothing else matters, not even her past. She
knows she won’t be turned away. She worships freely, gratefully, sacrificially. The
expression of her love is not the cause of his forgiveness, but the effect of it, and
people are amazed.

Like this prostitute, we too can draw near to Jesus. It doesn’t matter what we’ve done.
We are all sinners, but God’s grace frees us and heals us to live fruitful lives, to
worship with grateful hearts. J. Gregory Jones writes, “forgiveness works through our
ongoing willingness to give up certain claims against one another . . . to give gifts of
ourselves by making innovative gestures that offer a future not bound by the past.”
Innovative gestures: this woman certainly did that! But however you express your love for
Jesus, draw near to him today.

Crucified for the Forgiveness of Sin

. . . poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. (v. 28)

Lord, thank you for the cross!

One dark night in 1979, Terry Lynn Smith and her boyfriend brutally killed a young
couple as they slept in their bed. The murders were exceptionally vicious and bloody,
fueled by a drug-induced frenzy. Terry and her boyfriend were convicted and sentenced to a
lifetime in prison.

Imagine if there had been no consequences for their crime. Given their lifestyle, it’s
safe to assume their murderous nights would have continued. Others would have died.

What if the law was never enforced? Most of us would push aside boundaries in small
ways. (Goodbye speed limits!) Many would go farther. Left to complete lawlessness, life
and property would be destroyed in every community at an accelerated clip. Ultimately,
complete anarchy would wreak havoc throughout the world.

What if there had been no cross? The answer is even darker. Sin would remain unchecked,
like a city without laws, unatoned for, unpaid, and unredeemed. Without Christ’s blood
“poured out for many,” there is no forgiveness for sins. The hopelessness of eternal
separation from the Father would guarantee eternal brokenness and despair.

Praise God for the cross! At every communion service, we gratefully celebrate with
bread and wine in remembrance of his death. With John the Baptist we confess, “Behold, the
Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!”

The Face of Forgiveness

The Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious. (v. 25)

Thank you, heavenly Father, for shining your face upon us, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Max Lucado tells the story of Madeline. As a child, she would dance with her poppa
every Christmas Eve. He carried her, legs dangling, laughter bubbling. When she was older,
father and daughter glided across the floor. And so it went, as Madeline grew. Then came
the teenage years, including piercings, dark clothes, the attitude, and the bad-news
boyfriend. The nights got longer and Madeline drifted farther away.

One night she left. Weeks turned into months. Her money gone, Madeline turned to the
only thing she knew: dancing. She was too proud to go home. Drugs became her only
companion. Finally, Poppa tracked her down and sent a message inside the club. Trembling
with fear, Madeline opened the envelope. “I know where you are,” she read, “I know what
you do. This doesn’t change the way I feel. Will you come home and dance with your poppa
again?” Tears streamed down Madeline’s face. “And so the two danced again on Christmas
Eve.”

God is more magnificent, more loving, than any human experience we can know. “God’s
shining countenance,” says theologian Jurgen Moltmann, “is the source of the outpouring of
the Spirit and of God’s life, love, and blessing.” To see his face is to receive his
forgiveness. How can we bear to look upon the face of God? Because God’s love is greater
than our shame and sin.