Not-so-magic dust

Lately, during my abundant car time, I've been listening to a series of sermons on Jesus' parables. The sermons are from Matt Carder of Commonway Church. I attended the church during college, and I still appreciate the genuineness, practicality, and depth of Matt's teaching. He has a way of taking tired topics and injecting thought provoking truth and new perspective.

It's good stuff. Real good.

The sermon on the parable of The Unforgiving Servant was particularly captivating for me this week. Forgiveness is on my mind and my heart almost constantly lately. If you've got fifteen minutes, and you do, listen to the last half of this sermon.

It's popular in Christian circles to profess forgiveness. As if magic dust has been sprinkled, we forgive, reconcile, and sing kumbaya.  We like to think it is that easy. We say we forgive and forget, but instead, we bury anger and resentment and live in the midst of dysfunction. All in an effort to appear as though everything is ok and all is forgiven.

A guy who has repeatedly been wounded by unapologetic family members told me this week that he does not establish boundaries because he is "just a forgiving person."

A young girl who was violated by an older brother for many years told me last week that she was instructed to simply forgive her brother in order to keep the family together and not attract outside attention. And the abuse continued.

 When the offense is cheapened and the hurt is simply buried, forgiveness loses dignity. The truth is that forgiveness only comes at a cost. I have to cancel the debt; whatever was taken from me is no longer owed. In order to cancel the debt, I have to identify who hurt me and what that person took from me. The process of forgiveness does not erase the incident, but it does eliminate the bitterness.

Right now, you'll find me on the muddy corner of forgiving and reconciling. Despite our great efforts, forgiveness does not imply or require reconciliation. I'll dig through that another day.