The Great Forgivers

I'm an avid reader of WWII literature. There is something so fascinating to me about that time period: about the struggles that generation faced, about the amazing difficulties that they overcame. Their selflessness, bravery, and intrinsic grace amid such dark and utterly evil circumstances inspire me.

I'm particularly challenged by those who suffered in ghettos and concentration camps, and yet chose to show love, patience, and forgiveness to their captors. How does one do that? Often I get upset over petty offenses, wanting "justice" over minor slights, and yet many of them suffered extreme physical cruelty and abuse. Many of them watched their family and friends even die because of atrocious treatment and vile conditions. Yet, they were able to put love and forgiveness into practice. It completely baffles me!

Recently as I was meditating on the whole concept of forgiveness, I reread the passage of the prodigal son. Many times I recognize my own heart in that of the prodigal - spurning the love and safety of my Father, squandering my energies on what is unprofitable, lusting after unsatisfying and meaningless things, and then shamefully returning to the Father with nothing but empty hands and a cast down spirit. Yet this time, as I read the story, I found my heart echoing the voice of the elder son:

"Look! For so many years I have been serving you and I have never neglected a command of yours; and yet you have never given me a young goat, so that I might celebrate with my friends; but when this son of yours came, who has devoured your wealth with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him." (Luke 15:29-30)

I keep the rules. I do what is right. I serve. I obey. The prodigal didn't do those things. Therefore the prodigal doesn't deserve anything but punishment. Right?

But the father's response doesn't really even address the punishment issue at all, instead he says, "Son, you have always been with me, and all that is mine is yours. . . "(Luke 15:31)

What a strange response. Certainly not one I would have picked.

I don't pretend to know how forgiveness works, what elements are necessary to make it work, or even what it looks like at times, but I've come to believe that forgiveness starts with taking our eyes off "the offender" and putting them on our relationship with the Lord and all that He has given us. Because when we do that, we remember the sacrifices and forgiveness that have been bestowed on our behalf, and then we are able to pass that on. Otherwise we're too wrapped up in a me-me-mentality to remember how often we've received more than we deserved.

Perhaps WWII greats (i.e. Corrie Ten Boom, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, etc.) weren't able to mete out love and forgiveness to those who destroyed their lives. At least not on their own. Rather, I'd like to think that it was their willingness to say, "The Father has always been with me, I've never been out of His presence. And there was nothing you could do to me to change that fact. Besides, all that I have is His, and all that He has to offer is mine. He's treated me better that I ever deserved. Therefore, I can pass that love and forgiveness onto you. Not because you deserve it either, but because none of us ever really could."

You have always been with me, and all that is mine is yours.

Lord help me dwell on this truth, and when the opportunity arises for me to show forgiveness and love to others, help me be like those who have gone before - those that have chosen to take their eyes off the offender and the offense and have chosen instead to put them on You. Those that have been examples of the power Your presence, Your love, and Your forgiveness brings to those of us who are so undeserving!