Forgive Those Who Trespass Against (Not) Us

If you’ve been a churchgoing evangelical Christian for any length of time, you’ve probably heard a sermon on Matthew 18:21-35. This is one of the passages I’ve come to think of as part of the “Evangelical ABCs” that pastors return to again and again. You can’t sit in a pew for too long without hearing about the Parable of the Unmerciful Servant, the man who begged to have his debt forgiven only to turn around and show no mercy to the man who was indebted to him for less. This is the story Jesus uses to illustrate his assertion that we need to forgive those who injure or offend us not seven times, but “seventy times seven” times.

Of course, the number is actually irrelevant here–the point is that we are to cultivate within ourselves an endless capacity for forgiveness, not just for the sake of those who need our forgiveness but for the sake of our own heart condition so that we do not become bitter and hard.

Like many of you, I’m not unfamiliar with this Bible story or Jesus’ mandate. In fact, when I heard this message again for the Nth time recently, I gradually settled into a stupor. For the first thirty minutes of the sermon, it appeared to me that it was going to be nothing new under the sun. But then the pastor said something that snapped me into wakefulness.

He asked how well we’re doing at forgiving people who have injured someone else.

Just take that in a minute.

Culturally, the pastor said, it is acceptable and even honorable to get angry on behalf of others. Our children. Our spouses. Our friends. The marginalized. This is a space in which anger and unforgiveness looks like righteousness. We must “forgive those who trespass against us,” yes, but are we allowed to not forgive those who trespass against those we care about?

Do I (should I) get angry at the man who parked in a grocery pickup spot and went inside to do his shopping, preventing others with grocery orders from parking where they need to?

Do I (should I) hold a grudge against my son’s teacher for shaming him in front of the class?

Do I (should I) feel free to rant and rave on Twitter about the president’s alleged attitude toward minorities?

Do I (should I) get angry with one friend as a way of showing support for a second friend who was offended by something she did?

Do I (should I) feel permission to hate my friend’s husband, who is guilty of infidelity?

“Righteous” secondary anger is continually modeled for us on the internet, in the news media (especially in an election year–hello political campaigning and commentating!), and by the entertainment industry.

We all get angry. The question is, what do we do about it? Where do we allow ourselves to remain angry, to harbor unforgiveness in our hearts? Do we excuse anger on behalf of others as a kind of special anger that is allowable, acceptable, and even laudable?

See, Jesus didn’t set parameters around what we are to forgive others for. He just said we are to forgive.

Please click over to The Glorious Table with me to read the rest of the post.

Image by skeeze from Pixabay