Since we’re hearing a lot lately about the need for forgiveness, I’d like to share a small section of a book I’ve written about the Old Testament character Joseph. The book, Acts of God from Moody Publishers is to be released next month in conjunction with a Christian movie with the same title. Joseph decided to forgive his brothers for their brutal treatment even though he had the perfect opportunity to retaliate against them.
“Forgiveness doesn’t come easily; it can be the hardest work of all. It requires the right mindset, the right humility, and the most powerful of wills. Above all, we can’t forgive without the power of God animating us. Joseph teaches us three strong principles, however, to get us started.
First, forgiveness means releasing my right to retaliate. That’s why it’s difficult. Human nature is stimulus/response, cause and effect. I do unto you because you did unto me.
But forgiveness isn’t me pretending what you did was right; it’s not me saying I wasn’t hurt or even that it doesn’t matter. It’s just saying, “I’m going to let it go.”
Joseph told the brothers they had intended him harm. But acknowledging that God had other intentions, he could let it go. He could be free to break the cycle of grief and leave the justice to God.
Romans 12:19 says, “Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord.” We’re saying, “Lord—this one is yours.”
And there’s an odd feeling when you cross over that line of the will from anger to grace. You expect it to be frustrating, but instead you feel a tremendous load off your shoulders. Bitter people are the ones carrying all the baggage.
I’ve seen this in my friends, the Becketts of Knoxville, Tennessee. Their daughter died as a missionary volunteer in Afghanistan, gunned down by Taliban members. Cheryl gave her life trying to share the gospel, and her parents were overwhelmed with grief. But when I asked Charles Beckett if he felt bitter, he said, “No, I can’t hate the people my daughter gave her life to reach. And already I see God using the evil in this situation. He didn’t cause it, but he’ll use it. Cheryl didn’t give her life in vain.”
Do Charles and Mary Beckett have the right to bitterness? By human tradition, yes. But who wants to cling to a right that affords nothing but pain? Why not align ourselves with the kingdom of God, which always wins in the end?
Second, forgiveness means taking action toward restoration. I’m sure this isn’t exciting news, either—not when we first hear it. We could at least get a little bittersweet satisfaction out of saying, “Yeah, I forgive you. Now get out of my life.”
But we live a resurrection faith, and that means we won’t leave anything dead. All things are made new. We don’t settle for détente, but push for full-scale reconciliation. The deepest and most satisfying relationships in life come when God has put something back together that seemed completely broken. But God won’t make that happen unless we cooperate. And there must be two sides who are willing.
Joseph did everything right. He gave his brothers the opportunity to show repentance and to demonstrate how far they had come. He didn’t pretend they hadn’t terribly hurt him, but he let God effect full restoration among them.
Third, forgiveness means letting God be God. The key to letting go of bitterness is seeing the world as God sees it. You might be angry at the man who stepped on your toe, until you realized he was blind. That changes things, doesn’t it? When you see people as God sees them, you notice the blindness. You see lost, stumbling children who get caught up in this terrible cycle of anger, retaliating because no one has shown them another way.
As followers of Christ, we know that other way. We know the cure; we fight anger with love:
Do not repay anyone evil for evil . . . If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath. Romans 12:17–19
No, it’s not easy to live by grace. But it’s liberating. And once you’ve gotten a taste of it, you’ll never want to be ruled by anger again.
As for the wicked, maybe they prosper—for a while. We simply trust God to make things right. The adventure of grace doesn’t really give us time to think about such things. After all, God has forgiven us. He has released his right to retaliate and has reached out to restore us to himself. Knowing that, how can we remain bitter about anything or anyone?
(c) Acts of God – Moody Press 2014
