Forgive & Forget

"Oh, I can forgive, I just can't forget." 

When God forgives us, He remembers our sins no more.  Who then are we to offer less?  The very miracle of forgiveness is that it frees us to live as if the transgression had never occurred.  Never.  Gone.  No strikes, slate clean, innocence restored.  All charges dropped, nothing left to condemn.

On the Emmaus road, Jesus didn't offer the excuse "Sorry, guys, I'd love to walk with you, but I've got these holes in my feet.  And although I forgive, I just can't let go so I'll be walking with a limp for the rest of eternity."  He not only walked, but also walked the entire journey with them, on healthy feet both unhindered by the past and willing to go even farther.

Peter, asking how many times to forgive, thought seven should suffice.  He tried to get Jesus to agree that forgiveness should depend on repentance and that it's unreasonable to expect more.  In other words, that it's okay to forgive, but not forget.  A single wound can reopen seven times in a single minute, or seventy in a day.  And each time, the enemy is there, tempting us to harbor blame and nurture bitterness.  But seventy-seven or seventy times seven, the number doesn't matter -- Jesus' reply is simple: use as many times as it takes.  Forgive until it's forgotten and you stop counting. 

If this seems too much to ask, then we're beginning to understand.  He asks the impossible of us so we can only do it through Him.  Everyone can relate to pain, resentment and the desire for revenge.  His greatest glory is the triumph of forgiveness, and through it He speaks to any situation.  When we share His unnatural, impossible forgiveness, we offer Him the highest praise.  Sin and its hold over us are vanquished by His blood, for His blood is forgiveness. 

"Depart from Me, I never knew you."

For those who choose not to forgive, the consequences are dire.  If we don't forgive on earth, neither will our Father forgive us in heaven.  This isn't some karmic balancing act, but simply the proof of relationship.  To know Jesus is to know forgiveness.  When we try to make our own rules and redefine forgiveness, we reject Him as Savior, deny Him as Lord and have no part in Him.  His words to the goats are our wake-up call: This imaginary person, whom you've created in your own image, approving the idea of limited forgiveness, isn't Me.

To do the impossible, we must know Him and let Him live His life, His forgiveness through us.  Before they had witnessed the cross, Jesus promised the disciples they'd perform even greater things than what they had seen.  But like them, we remain blind and miss that a touch of holy amnesia is greater than any tongue of fire, that the greatest wonder of all was "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."  A heart freed of the burden of sin proclaims His glory louder than a thousand angels. 

Forgiveness frees us to love as He loves.  It might not make the headlines, but He promises to remember.  While prophecy, casting out demons and miracles didn't make the list, feeding the hungry did.  Close your eyes, and within thirty seconds someone who's starving for forgiveness will come to mind.  Feeling rejected, forgotten and abused, they may have hardened their hearts out of self preservation.  Or maybe shame has them caged in a bravado of self loathing.  Only by remembering His supernatural forgiveness can we share it with the forgotten "least of these." 

But if instead, we choose to recall things He has forgotten, we forget the face of our Father, and in ourselves, we have nothing left to give.  And our very own words mock us, for we have shown we can forget, but not forgive.

References:
Is 43:25 / Ro 8:1 / Lk 24:13 / Ro 5:8 / I Co 15:42 / Mt 18:22 / Eph 1:7 / Mt 7:23 / Mt 6:15 / Jn 14:12 / Lk 23:34 / Pr 25:21