Let me admit something to you: I've had difficulty writing this. My past posts about forgiveness came more easily, but this time... this time I stalled whenever I considered what to say about complete, full forgiveness. I'm a week past the due date, and still struggling, wondering why this seems so hard. Perhaps it is due to my own tendency to fall short of all-out forgiveness. More likely, though, I am aware of the deep longing to be fully forgiven for my own offenses. And I am also aware of the significant cost to people who endured those offenses and embraced me on the other side of them. 

So I cannot treat forgiveness lightly, either in its giving or receiving. In my experience, complete forgiveness never comes without paying the price of painful effort. The deeper the offense, the greater that cost will be.

But the cost brings benefit. Full forgiveness brings restoration to the whole person: mind, body, spirit. It is the kind of forgiveness that most of us long for. It takes us beyond just a decision to a place where we experience healing on an emotional level. We actually feel the release and freedom that comes from forgiving or being forgiven.

Here's how it works in my marriage. When Sharon and I get into conflict* my analytical mode shifts into overdrive as I argue my case. After all, I assume I'm probably 60-90% right and everything will be settled as soon as she finally listens to my rational argument. In the moment, this strategy seems reasonable even though decades of experience provide clear and compelling evidence to the contrary. The result, of course, is that we become more distant; I back away to leave her feeling alone, hurt, and angry. 

Since I'm not a complete idiot, I eventually figure out that I got something wrong again. I admit this to her and ask her to forgive me. Because she loves me, she is quick to grant forgiveness. 

But I've realized that very often when I simply say to her, "I'm sorry for that," the sting remains even after she puts the offense behind her. She no longer holds it against me, but still feels the hurt because I simply used words without becoming emotionally involved in the forgiveness process. A change comes the moment I move close to her, look her in the eyes, and speak to her out of my heart instead of my head. When I am honest about my disappointment in myself and show genuine remorse for hurting her, she softens. The sting is removed. Full forgiveness comes. 

That "softening" is, I believe, the mark of full forgiveness. It is a compassionate, empathetic response from the offended toward the offender. Without it, we have to settle for something a little less.

Experiencing empathy for an offender should not be required or expected in every circumstance. But if you do want to fully forgive, you need be willing to move toward that kind of compassionate response. How? 

In order to realize compassionate empathy for your offender, one of these experiences must be true:

1. Your offender is emotionally involved in the process of forgiveness.

If the person who hurt you is able to express honest sorrow and remorse for their wrong, then you have an opportunity to let down your guard and allow your feelings to soften. You may not get this chance if your offender shows no regret, or if he/she offers a kind of apology that falls short of real contrition. 

Even if your offender does show genuine remorse, you will not be able to move toward an empathetic response if you hold on to vengeance. You will have to let go of your demand for personal justice and be willing to step out of your own experience and into the sorrow of your offender. This provides an opportunity for both of you to experience healing.

But what if your offender does not engage you at this emotional level? What if they do not offer genuine remorse? Some counselors believe that full forgiveness can only be achieved if/when the offender is an active participant in the process. But I believe there is another way, although it is difficult as well.

2. You understand and acknowledge your offenses against others, your own need for forgiveness, and out of the grace that has been given to you, you fully forgive your offender.

I hesitate in writing this second option because it can be so easily turned into some sort of moral or spiritual dictate that becomes a "requirement" if you are a truly good person. Let me be very clear: good people do not always fully forgive. And at the risk of inviting an argument, I'd say that even God does not fully forgive every offender. There is a place for justice.

But I do believe that some people are so aware of their own need for grace and forgiveness, and how they've received these in the past, that they are able to truly let go of offenses even when the offender is not asking to be forgiven. This kind of forgiveness amazes me and I don't think I'm very good at it. I have little doubt, however, that giving attention to the way others have had to duck away from the log in my own eye results in me taking less offense at splinters (or even logs) in the theirs (Matthew 7:3-5).

Honestly, it seems to me that Christians have a bit of an advantage in this second point. We believe that if we got what we truly deserved, we'd be in a mess of trouble, but that God took it on himself to pay the price that justice demanded for all our wrong-doing. If we really see ourselves that way, as undeserving recipients of God's gracious forgiveness, then we should find it easier to move with compassionate empathy toward those who have offended us (Colossians 3:13). That's the way it should be, at least. In practice, it often is not.

Forgiveness is personal. Forgiveness is hard; it seems nearly impossible sometimes. But I do believe it is always the goal worth moving toward. Lewis Smedes wrote, "We talk a good forgiving line as long as somebody else needs to do it, but few of us have the heart for it while we are dangling from one end of a bond broken by somebody else's cruelty." If you're dangling, I hope you'll find your heart.

Tim Tedder

*Hey, sorry to spoil any illusions for those who'd like to think that folks like counselors, pastors, and Oprah don't get into some good arguments. We do. (Well, I can't honestly speak for Oprah, but I'm pretty sure...)

Some people consider forgiveness an all-or-nothing proposition. It's a bit like bungee jumping; you can either stand frozen or you can take the step, but you can't go just half-way down. Combine this thinking with the idea that forgiveness is always the best choice and you will eventually find yourself in a dilemma: How can you completely forgive someone who shows no remorse for hurting you?

In my opinion, personal forgiveness is always the best choice, even if the offender doesn't deserve it. I should admit that I have not been ultimately tested in this belief. If someone intentionally caused great harm to any member of my family, I'm not sure what I'd do, but I hope I would, even then, find my way toward forgiveness. I've seen the fruit of unforgiveness and I'd rather not taste it. 

Does that mean I would give up on seeking justice? Not necessarily. Does that mean I would trust that person around my family again? Probably not. But what it does mean is that even if a person is not repentant for a wrong done against me, I believe it is better to release my hands from around their neck and let go of my desire for personal vengeance. 

Have you ever been hurt by someone who is unremorseful or absent? A spouse who left for someone else; a parent who died without ever admitting the damage they inflicted; a friend who betrayed a trust and walked away; a person who stole something that could never be returned? How can you be expected to forgive people like these? 

Maybe by just deciding to forgive.

Decisional forgiveness is a step short of complete forgiveness (more on that next week), but it is still a powerful process. It chooses to let go of personal retribution while accepting the fact that you might never realize the emotional healing that could come if you experienced the offender's remorse. This kind of forgiveness can happen when you stop focusing on things that are out of your control (the offense or the offender) and, instead, give attention to what is within your ability to change. You are not responsible for the hurt, but you are responsible for your healing.

What can you decide to do?

• Talk it out.
  If you haven't done so already, you need to fully acknowledge the pain caused by the offender. Talk about it with someone you trust. Get advice on whether or not it would be beneficial to communicate your hurt to the offender and, if so, the best way to do it.
• Drop your weapon.
  In whatever way you carry around idea of revenge, let it go. Give up on the idea that you are personally responsible for wishing or creating retribution. If action is required, leave justice to a higher authority: God or the law.
• Start looking in the opposite direction.
  Instead of obsessing and ruminating about the past, turn around and look at your future. I know this is easier said than done, but the truth is you can change how you think. Start by giving attention to what you feed our thoughts. Get rid of bad mental foods (bitter conversations, revenge movies, anything that feeds anger or causes you to focus on the past) and find better input (Scripture, inspiring songs, encouraging friends, anything that promotes peacefulness and a focus on the future). If you cannot escape obsessive thoughts, talk to a pastor or counselor.
• Search for empathy.
  If you become too focussed on our pain, your perspective will be limited and your emotional responses will be restricted. You will find it easier to forgive if you can (1) gain some understanding of the offender's experience, even if it is just an acknowledgment of ways they've been broken, (2) be willing to acknowledge ways you contributed to the injury, if any exists, and (3) remember the times when you were forgiven by others.

When I was in grade school, I remember traveling out of state to visit friends of my parents. This couple lived in a secluded home on the edge of a swampy river. I liked sitting at the end of their dock and throwing sticks out into the water. Later, my dad told an amazing story about this couple. It went something like this...

One afternoon, while the husband was away, two strangers pulled their boat up to the dock, approached the house, forced their way inside, and took turns raping the woman. Some time after they left, the husband returned to a broken wife and began the work of loving her back toward healing.

The men were eventually captured and the police allowed the husband to visit them in jail. There was no account of their particular feelings, apart from the regret of being caught, but this man still had something to offer them. "What you did... it was wrong," he said honestly, but humbly. "You caused tremendous pain to my wife. To me, too. For my part, I want you to know that, because God has forgiven me for many things, I forgive you, too." I'm not sure what else he said, but I'm pretty sure that when he left, the men locked in that cell were no longer bound in his heart. 

Tim Tedder

Recommended Viewing: The Power of Forgiveness (2007), Directed by Martin Doblmeier

In previous posts, I wrote about two expressions of forgiveness that, when offered, actually inhibit healthy recovery: premature forgiveness (quickly offered but withdrawn when the reality of the offense is recognized), and fake forgiveness (outwardly proclaimed while hidden resentment persists). Let me give you one more: bartered forgiveness.

Bartered forgiveness is offered under the condition that the offender lives up to certain expectations. These expectations are often unstated and may have nothing to do with the initial offense. As long as the offended partner remains content in the relationship, there is no mention of the past offense. But whenever conflict or discontent reaches a high enough level, the offense is once again used as a weapon against the offender.

A friend of mine was going through a difficult period of struggle with her defiant teenage son. One afternoon, in the heat of another argument, her son picked up a BB pistol, aimed it at her head, and pulled the trigger. Out of the split that opened between her eyes, blood poured down her face and onto her sweater. It was a frightening event, but the emotional damage was worse than the physical. Soon afterward, he expressed sorrowful regret and she readily forgave him. She could have continued using the event to shame him, but she chose to let it go.

But imagine a different outcome. Imagine the mother proclaiming her forgiveness and then hanging the bloodied sweater in a closet. A week later, in the middle of another argument, Mom stops yelling, walks to the closet, reaches for the stained sweater, and puts it on. Her son is silenced. She learns that whenever she wears the evidence of his shame she regains control. The shirt becomes her go-to strategy at the cost of her son's increased resentment and the deterioration of their relationship. Even if she puts the sweater back into the closet each time, her forgiveness isn't real; it's just a bargaining chip.

Most of us would be appalled by this kind of manipulation, but how many times do we go back to the closet and pull out some past offense? How often do we hold up the evidence of past hurts in order to gain control by shaming someone else? When have we found more value in holding on to someone's wrongdoing instead of letting it go, even though we once claimed to forgive them?

It may take time to reach a place of real forgiveness, and it may require effort as you continue to affirm it, but the purpose of forgiveness is to leave the offense in the past. Genuine forgiveness does not allow you to run back and drag the offense into the present each time it seems useful again.

Are you a bartering forgiver? Here are some things you might want to consider doing:

• Get help from someone who can help you move toward forgiveness.
• Remember the times when you experienced real forgiveness (from others, from God) and consider what it has means to know your offenses have been left in the past.
• If the offense is in the past and the offender genuinely asked for your forgiveness, do something to demonstrate the fact that you are willing to finally let it go. You might want to write a long letter describing the hurt you've carried around all this time and then burn it once and for all. Whenever you're tempted to reach back to the offense again, remember your action of letting it go. 
• Admit your bartering forgiveness to the offender, and ask them to forgive you. 
• Use resources (books, recordings, etc.) to learn more about forgiveness.

Tim Tedder

Another Saturday night. Jake sat at the table with a group of friends, sipping at his wine while inwardly bracing himself. His wife, Marci, had started in again with the jokes―the thinly-veiled criticisms―told at his expense. She slipped easily into these demeaning and embarrassing comments whenever her way had been wet with enough alcohol. Friends laughed, some of them glancing at Jake to check his reaction. He pretended to join them in the fun.

Driving home, Marci felt uncomfortable in the familiar quiet. "Don't take it so personally, Jake. I was just joking around. Nobody took it seriously." Jake remained quiet. "Com'on, Jake. You're not going to be mad about this, are you?"

He measured his response."I'm not mad. It's okay. We don't need to talk about it anymore." Marci, satisfied enough, slumped against the passenger door. Jake stared at the road as he continued the drive home. All forgiven. All forgotten.

Not really.

Fake forgiveness is offered with a smile covering clenched teeth. It's an attempt to gloss over an offense and pretend everything is fine when, in truth, unresolved hurt and resentment remain. Whereas premature forgiveness is soon cast aside, fake forgiveness is usually held onto as though it were the real thing.

Sometimes people get so good at being Fake Forgivers they don't even realize they're doing it. They profess forgiveness, but find themselves experiencing feelings of anxiety, anger, or depression they cannot explain. Their hidden resentments are often expressed in passive-aggressive behaviors (e.g., "Oh, I'm so sorry I forgot to do that for you.").

Why do people fake forgive? Some do it because they are afraid of conflict. Others believe forgiveness is always required so they need to "just do it." Regardless of the reason, fake forgiving inevitably fails to provide genuine healing.

To make sure you are offering genuine forgiveness, keep these things in mind:

1. Genuine forgiveness can only be offered after your hurt from of the offense is acknowledged. 

If you are not honestly recognizing and admitting your hurt, then you are not honestly recognizing or admitting the offense. If it is not truly acknowledged, it cannot be truly forgiven.

2. Genuine forgiveness is usually a process, not an event, especially if the offense is significant. 

Small offenses, like small cuts, can be easily mended, but major wounds require more time. Forgiveness of a deep hurt will also take more time; it is offered and then repeatedly reaffirmed as healing progresses. 

Tim Tedder

My grade-school friends and I were playing by the side of the road when the Neighborhood Bully came riding by. I knew him only by reputation and so had no idea why he bothered to hop off his bike and plant himself in front of me. Before I could make any sense of the circumstance, Bully punched me in the face.

In those few seconds after the hit, my rattled brain scanned its memory searching for any data that might be useful in issuing an appropriate response. The only retrievable information came from Sunday School lessons teaching me to "turn the other cheek" and "love your enemies." So, while Bully's glare was daring me to fight back, I turned my attention to my feet and mumbled, "I forgive you."

"What?!"

"I forgive you."

I figured Jesus was probably really happy with me and so he'd send angels swooping down with swords drawn, causing Bully to either fall to his knees or run away in holy terror. Or maybe he'd be overcome by my forgiving spirit and just back away in awed confusion.

Instead, he punched me again.

Since forgiveness didn't work, I tried something else: playing dead. I guess it wouldn't have been as much fun punching a kid whose face was planted in the dirt, so Bully got on his bike and rode away.

The following days were filled with revenge fantasies. I thought of every way that normal me and super-hero me might make Bully pay for his offense. My forgiveness had just been a temporary reaction, not a genuine response. It had been premature. 

I sometimes suspect that clients have offered premature forgiveness for offenses against them. Soon after the experience of a deep wound or the discovery of betrayal, some are quick to explain, "I've already forgiven," only to return days or weeks later confused by how angry they have become and how strongly they want the offender to pay for their wrong. 

Forgiveness is a good thing. It's God-like. It frees us. It heals. But if you try to offer it before you become completely aware of the offense, your forgiveness will be superficial. Eventually, you will either have to back up and start over, or move into a kind of fake forgiveness (pretending to forgive, but not really).

Small offenses, of course, require small forgiveness. But when you experience a "punch in the face" or even a "knife in the heart" kind of hurt, make sure you take the time to truly understand what happened. Out of this awareness, find your way toward forgiveness that is more honest... more sustainable... more mature.

Recommended reading: How Can I Forgive You? by Janis Spring; Forgiving and Reconciling by Everett L. Worthington.

Tim Tedder