Most people can attest to owning a long list of personal perpetrations, mistakes, errors and general sins that, from time to time, pay a visit, serving as a constant reminder that they are not worthy of the peace that comes from letting all of that go.
This might not be true for you, but my list is closely tied to people, i.e., someone was deeply wounded by my mistake, or angered, disgusted. I’m guilty, from time to time, of doing things that allegedly affect the way people think about me. Because I’m convinced that my victims haven’t let me off the hook, I can’t let myself off the hook.
Attached to this is a deep sense of shame, arguably the worst emotion in the book.
If you can relate, I’ll attest that the quickest way to relief is to keep a list of things that others have perpetrated against you. When I’m feeling bad about me, nothing whisks me away like ruminating on the failures of others. It’s interesting to note that the people on this list are those who are closest to us. Family members, old friends, etc. are consistently bigger sinners than everyone else, not because of the quality of their sin, but because of the closeness of the relationship.
I keep that list up-to-date as well, constantly reviewing it, never forgetting that there are some in my life who simply aren’t worthy of a clean slate.
Sadly, each list perpetrates the other, and keeps us far from the life we’re hoping to live. Letting go of this garbage would be a quick, simple way to freedom, but us American Christians don’t look at life as something to be set free, we look at it as something that needs to be found.
The things that hold us back get little attention.
Jesus told a story about letting people off the hook, one that goes alot farther than the American mind when it ponders forgiveness:
“Once there was a man who owed a very large sum of money, say, 3 million dollars, to a great king. The king demanded immediate repayment, then threw the guy into prison and his family into slavery for defaulting. Although the man could never hope to repay the enormous usm, he begged for another chance.
The king forgave his debt.
The man immediately went out and found someone who owed him, say, ten dollars, and had him thrown into prison when he couldn’t repay. When the king got wind of this, he had the man thrown into prison to be tortured until his original debt was paid.”
“This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from the deepest parts of your soul.” ~ Matthew 18:21-35
Lots of complicated theology here, especially the part where we owe God something that’s impossible to pay back. For those of us who believe that our debt has been paid, i.e., nothing can now keep us out of heaven, this is especially tricky. Jesus seems to affirm the evangelical idea that our slate has been cleared, but adds that it will be reinstated in full if we don’t clear it for others.
If we believe that Jesus actually told this story, and he is who he claimed to be, it would be a little silly to cling so tightly to our sin lists.
We’d do better to clear them and keep instead a list of the people we need to forgive, to use their transgressions as an opportunity to remember, express, and celebrate the unconditional, eternal (with one exception?) forgiveness of God. Sure, we’d spend alot of time and energy forgiving people, but is that so much harder than the work required to keep them on the hook?
There’s a big difference between investing our energy in something that sets us free, and wasting it on something that does the exact opposite.
Regardless of what you do with your lists, time and energy will be spent.
If we we simply can’t stop ruminating on our own sins, I say simply the list: ruminate, over and over again, on one sin: unforgiveness. Forget about all the other stupid stuff you’ve done in the past and focus instead on whatever level of unforgiveness you’re guilty of.
Jesus made it easy. According to him, there’s nobody unworthy. He forgave everyone, unconditionally, for the deepest sin, and expects us to do the same on a much smaller level.
I love that scene in the New Testament where Jesus tries to teach his disciples about forgiveness, and instead of taking notes, Peter tries to show off:
“Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”
Just before launching into his story about the unforgiving man (above), Jesus responded:
“Not seven times, but seven times seventy.”
Forgiveness is central to Jesus’ teaching. It’s holy, a heavenly thing that overlaps our world whenever we wield i. It transforms us and those closest to us the way that heaven always does when we let it in. That should trump our desire to keep our sins and the sins of others so close at hand.
Remember what it felt like to be a kid and look at your parents, or a close relative, or a friend, like they could do no wrong? Remember how that bled into every single crevice of your life? Jesus is begging us to look at everyone that way, and to not worry about whatever future wrong they’ll do. The more we do that, the more we’ll extend it to the deepest parts of ourselves, and clear the soul that could never clear itself, to turn loose the idiot who’s come to believe that he can somehow, one day, get it right.
