Why are Christians Bleeding Out?
Sometimes the most rudimentary things are the least understood in practice. We become familiar linguistically with a belief but little to no practical attention is given toward knowing how to live it. Forgiveness is one such thing. If you ask Siri what forgiveness means, the definition reads, “the action or process of forgiving or being forgiven.” That definition perfectly sums up how ambiguous forgiveness often feels. And as something that’s considered so fundamental, people often shy away from admitting the grass roots have escaped them entirely. Few Christians, who ascribe to a faith built almost entirely on forgiveness, are willing to admit openly that they don’t understand how to do it.
Add this generic ambiguity of forgiveness to the life of pastoral ministry and we run into some significant issues. Working with broken people means getting cut on repeat by their jagged edges. Those cuts multiply in number quickly and what ends up happening is that band aids are applied for a quick fix so we can continue our work in triage until suddenly, we have become one giant wound with no real healing plan of our own. Wounded healers are the best kind but dying healers bleeding out all over the ones they are caring for is particularly problematic.
A pastoral friend of mine said, “We talk about it all the time in vague generalities, but what exactly does forgiveness even look like and how does one practically do it?” We are in desperate need of a tourniquet that slows the bleeding long enough to find a measure of strength for the process.
The Healing Properties of Forgiveness
Forgiveness can absolutely be considered one of the healing virtues. It is a strength acquired by doing what ought to be done. The oughtness of forgiveness is where the process ultimately must begin. James 4:17 says, “If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them.” It must be understood as the right thing we must pursue and that a failure to do so is itself a very toxic sin that will corrode and destroy. It is not the good thing or even the best thing, it is the right thing and it’s not optional.
Just as prayer isn’t about changing the heart of God but rather changing us, neither is forgiveness necessarily about the one who perpetrated a wrong against us but about our own heart. Unforgiveness breeds in us an active desire for vengeance and when vengeance is what drives us, we are not walking in unity with the heart of the gospel message. It’s incredibly hard to share the beauty of the gospel when we are entirely unable demonstrate forgiveness in our own lives. Unforgiveness is the forgotten weight of the gift we’ve been given. The gospel never excused the payment that had to be made for wrongs committed. Neither do we. God laid the wrongs of the world on Jesus, and so must we. But in order to do that we have to find our tourniquet.
Romans 12:19 says, “Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge, I will repay,’ says the Lord.” When God tells us not to touch something that’s his, it’s a good idea to heed that warning. We can back all the way up to Genesis and see what happens to his good and perfect plans when we touch things that he tells us are not to be touched and when we eat things he tells us are not ours to eat.
Three Questions to Ask Yourself About Forgiveness
Trust precedes the ability to forgive. This is an ugly kind of monster because usually what caused the need for forgiveness likely also challenged our ability to trust. We must be careful not to transfer our inability to trust someone else onto our trust for God. If we don’t have trust in the heart of God, we can’t ultimately practice forgiveness. Trust will be your tourniquet! We must ask ourselves:
1. Do I trust God? Do I believe that his plan is better than mine? Do I trust that he has my best and the best of countless others at heart? Do I ultimately trust that he is good and that his goodness by far transcends my own? Because if I don’t, and sometimes I have admittedly not trusted, I cannot lay down the unforgiveness that I’m carrying, and I will bleed out.
2. Do I trust that vengeance belongs to God in a way that is not mine to know? And can I distinguish between vengeance as an act of destruction and justice as an act of righteous restitution with the latter being the end goal? If I cannot do this, I will ultimately die by the sword of vengeance I wrongly wield.
3. Do I remember that regardless of the wrongs committed against me, the ground at the cross remains level? What I mean by this is that I am no more righteous on my own than anyone else. This also means that I must weigh my own actions according to his righteousness and not with myself as the standard. Do you see the balancing of the scales in this economy? In the world’s economy we use the wrongs committed against us to excuse our own actions carried out in the name of vengeance or victimhood. In God’s economy we use the wrongs perpetrated against us to make sure we are pursuing righteousness in Christ.
When you make a practice of answering these 3 questions on repeat, you will find that the bleeding slows enough for you to begin walking the actual journey of forgiveness. It is a daily and often monotonous journey but never one of little consequence. Vengeance is his, justice will not be forgotten in the process, and the outcome is not yours to know beyond your trust in God to care for it.
We must trust in the process, ask God how it is he would instruct us to pray, and follow through with persistence on an hourly and sometimes even moment by moment basis until the wounds begin to heal.
