"Will you forgive me?" -- Asking for forgiveness

Where does the Bible say that we should "ask for forgiveness" from someone we have wronged? I know that the Bible says that we should forgive others. And I know that if we confess our sins to God, he will forgive us. And I know that we have wronged another we should go and seek reconciliation. But it seems to me that going to someone that you have wronged and then asking them to forgive you is adding burden to them rather than taking it away. 

Let's say John injures Tom in some way and Tom is hurt. Then John goes to Tom and says, "I'm sorry, will you forgive me." I'd say that John is doing a good thing in admitting his culpability when it comes to having hurt Tom. But then he follows that quick admission up with an added encumbrance for Tom, that of having to forgive on demand. 

Asking for forgiveness and giving forgiveness are two very different things. The latter involves consciously being willing to let go of the argument or the emotional hurt in order to renew the relationship. The former is a request. Some treat it even as a demand -- the moment that I ask you for forgiveness for something I have done is the moment you need to make that conscious decision to give up on your side of the argument or your side of the emotional hurt. I have known people who used it as a means of ending an argument with the upper hand. You admit that you're wrong, but then force the other person into a position of loss by dictating that the argument is now over and your feelings toward me must now be restored since I said "sorry." And if you can't do that, then the problem is definitely with you and not me. 

So I'm curious. Can you think of a passage in the Bible that says that when we have wronged someone we should ask for their forgiveness? Certainly we should try to restore the relationship and certainly we should admit to our guilt in our part of damaging the relationship. But does the Bible say we should then vocally put the onus of forgiveness upon the other party? 

If I don’t love Mabel… « BYSTANDERS TO GOD'S GRACE

http://weavingmajor.wordpress.com/2011/06/11/loving-mabel/
Sometimes it's easy to read scripture without hearing it. This is especially true when a passage becomes too familiar, or is so general that if we don't think through exactly how it applies to our life, then it's essentially nothing but platitudes. Kelly's rewrite of 1 Corinthians 13 takes a familiar passage of scripture and contextualizes it in such a way that it becomes immediately relevant.

Who needs Jesus when you can just click for forgiveness?

Click.Forgive

I am not making this up. My brother-in-law sent me the link. He probably uses the level 4 Forgiveness several times a day, knowing him. He claims that not loving bacon is a level 3 offense. Who knew?

What Am I Afraid Of?

I got to thinking yesterday, " What am I afraid of?" It's a long story on how I came to that question. Suffice it to say that the combination of my sister mentioning a life theory of fear vs. love, combined with a bus ride yesterday with a bunch of rather mean 8th graders got me first to wondering what they fear, which led me to wondering what I fear.  I took some time out to think about that question. I think there are specific fears for various situations, but one overriding fear that seems to dominate over all the rest is the fear of failure. What if I mess up? What if I screw up so bad that someone else has to deal with it?

I thought of death or of being in a situation like Joanne, where she had a debilitating stroke several months ago and is taking slow steps down the long road of recovery. But neither of those things scared me. What scared me was that if I died, someone else would have to come in and go through the piles of stuff I haven't gotten through in my office. (It also makes me very sad to think of what my family would go through. But that's because of my love for them, not for any fear of what they'll experience. I know they'll find a way to carry on without me, even if they miss me a great deal.) I fear messing up when I'm talking to someone - of saying the wrong thing or not saying what I want to say in a way that the other person will comprehend in the way I want it to be comprehended. I guess when I boil it all down, I fear that I'll get it wrong. I fear that I'll do or say something that impacts someone else negatively, in a way that they'll be left cleaning up my mess whether it's physical or emotional or maybe even spiritual.

My fear might seem very silly to you, but it's very poignant to me. It's pretty central to how I think about myself. I am a person who orders things. You might not think that from looking at my house or my back yard. But when I write a newsletter, I'm not only organizing words into a coherent and hopefully interesting portrayal of information, but I'm also organizing the blocks of text and images on the page. When I do the book keeping for the church or for CFHL, I'm ordering numbers - moving them in and out and keeping them all lined up in a row as I do so. I organize my kids schedules. I order the morning routine so that the kids can sleep as late as possible and still get to the bus stop on time. I take in and organize information for the kids school and send it out to the PTO and other parents. I take in, I rearrange and organize and then I send out. I wish I had a more ordered house and yard, but that one gets away from me, which I'm sure is why it comes at me in my fears.

So yesterday, while I was lying on my bed thinking this stuff through, I managed to ironically do what I feared. I messed up. Nathan had a 3:30 doctor's appointment and I entirely forgot about it. I had remembered it yesterday morning. But by afternoon I was exhausted and the appointment wasn't on my radar. When the office called to see what the deal was, I lost it. I broke down. That was it. I'd messed up. My greatest fear came rushing over me to overwhelm me.

It hasn't left me there. I've tried to walk myself through some of the things that I have been encouraging Nathan to do when he hits something that throws him for a loop. I've tried to look at the bigger picture. Sure, this happened and I screwed up, but what will that matter a year from now? Five years from now? It won't. It really wasn't that big of a deal. But it felt like a big deal. I'm still holding on to that feeling of it being a big deal, even if it wasn't.

I'm at Everyday Joe's right now sipping on my new favorite tea, Margaret's Hope Darjeeling, and reading Resident Aliens (Hauerwas and Willimon) and I hit this bit, "True freedom arises, not in our loud assertion of our individual independence, but in our being linked to a true story, which enables us to say yes and no. Our worst sins arise as our response to our innate human fear that we are a nobody." That, combined with several other bits that I'll probably share in another post, helped me to see that looking at the long term regarding my mess up wasn't really looking at the entire big picture. There's more that, if I really want to heal from this, I need to do. I need to allow for grace.

When I missed Nathan's appointment yesterday I was frustrated with Rob because he just didn't seem to get it. He didn't get that this was a major mess up. He wasn't as upset as I thought he should have been about it. He didn't jump in to be my superman, fixing the screw up that I had made. But looking back on it, I see it a different way now. Rob saw the situation with more grace than I did. He knows it's not the end of the world and he treated the situation as it deserves. He didn't get bent out of shape. He shrugged it off and moved on. Granted, it wasn't his mess up. But even though it was mine, that doesn't mean I need to hold on to it.

Jackie, Nathan's doctor, also dealt with me with grace. She talked to me on the phone about how Nathan's doing and she got us set up with an appointment on Wednesday next week. Though I'm sure it was frustrating for her to wait for us and we didn't show, she didn't express any anger with me. She didn't even show her frustration. She dealt with the situation and moved on, according it only what it required and not pouring extra meaning into the event that it didn't have.

And God forgives my screw up. When I stand before him at the end times, he's not going to pull out his notebook and say, "Dang, Meg. What's this about you forgetting that doctor's appointment?" There are much deeper heart issues that he's concerned with, and me messing up isn't a central issue. He knows I'm human. He knows I'm fallen. A central issue is that I let my fear of messing up define me. I let my belief that I can hold it all together, and that if I don't I'm worthless, be a driving force in my life. That's the heart issue. That's what's important. And I can't let go of that belief until I start to see the grace that is being offered to me by those around me and accept that grace from them, most especially God's grace.

God hasn't set me on the planet with some directions and then nudged me out to do it or fail. He has set me on this planet and then he's put himself beside me. We walk together. Even when I forget to let him lead (He's the one that knows the way after all. He should be the one leading.) and I try to take over with my own map and my own agenda, he's still there beside me. He's committed himself to get me through this. Some would say he's covenanted himself. This is one of those footprints in the sand times and I can choose to let it reinforce my fears. Or I can acknowledge that now is when there's only that one set of footprints in the sand and they sure aren't mine. I can't do this on my own, but then again, I don't have to. Thank God.

Free to Love

In the movie Happy Feet, there were stern leader penguins who fit the stereotype of  sanctimonious church leaders to a T. In fact, their Scottish accents and the fact that they were referred to as "elders" makes me wonder if the screenwriter hadn't grown up in a stiff Scottish Presbyterian church. The media, even the Christian media, has painted a very clear picture of the problems of arrogant, inflexible leadership. But one of the religious opposites to that uptight, old time religion is the radical, hip young leader. With a shaved head and a soul patch, these cutting edge preachers show that it's not all just about rules. Grace is important, too. In fact, it's so important, that if you don't do grace the way they do grace, then they're going to treat you pretty much just like a sanctimonious church leader would and shun you. I've seen it happen in various denominations, in various locations and among various ages. The theme is the same: I get it and you don't.

John Alexander writes,

"I've been in many places where people were committed to radical discipleship..., and my observation is that in those places we were not lovers of God or of each other. That's what failure is--failure to love God and each other. My conclusion is that confronting people with law, even Jesus' 'law,' doesn't free them to love. Instead, it sets up a dynamic of condemnation and tension and anger and superiority. An understanding of the law (or better, a misunderstanding of law) sets people up to try to straighten others out. to fix each other, whether anyone wants to be fixed or not. When that happens (which is often) live-in churches [which is the type of church Alexander was a part of] explode in fiery holocaust. All in the name of Jesus. ... Oddly enough, none of that frees people to love."

Jesus said that others would see that we are his disciples by our love for one another. He never said people would make the connection due to our understanding of the creeds, or our cool music during services, or by how authentic we are, or how polished, or how well we create a spiritual ambiance. All of those things can be helpful to people depending on their personality types, but they're not the crux of the matter. What shines out of us and lets the world know that we are followers of the Christ is our love for one another. At least, that's what Jesus said. You don't have to be cool to love people better. But you do have to be humble, and caring, and kind. And you do have to practice. And you do have to take time to love others well.

And as we become conduits of God's love, loving those that are different from us as well as those that we "click" with or agree with or feel comfortable around, that in turn frees others to love. That is the gospel in action.

War of Words: Getting to the Heart of Your Communication Struggles

Rating:
Category:	Books
Genre:	Religion & Spirituality
Author:	Paul David Tripp

This past summer, the gals in our church decided to read and discuss a book together. We chose War of Words, by Paul David Tripp. The book is divided into 3 main sections, so we met three times throughout the summer break to discuss a section each time. I’ve already written about my thoughts on the first part of the book, which bothered me both because of how he supported his point, but also because of how he overstated his position. However, I thought the rest of his book was not only better written (although he continued to persist in aiming in one direction while continually pointing to another), but he also had a lot of really good things to say. (In other words, it's a good thing I was reading this book in a group because if I was reading it on my own, I probably would have chucked it a few chapters in. But having to meet with other folks to discuss the rest of the book kept me plugging on through.)

Let me first address my biggest pet peeve with this book before I get on to acknowledging several of the excellent things he said. The book is titled the War of Words because the goal is to teach Christians, in particular, how to speak in a way that reflects the loving, forgiving, gracious character of God. So obviously, Tripp's focus was on what people say to one another. But he repeatedly said things such as:

"...it is important to recognize that the war of words is actually the fruit of a greater, more fundamental war. This is the war of wars; it is what life is about." (p. 37)

"Like all wars, this war is for control. It is a war for our hearts." (p. 39)

"...a life of godly communication is rooted in a personal recognition of the sovereignty of God." (p. 69)

"The war of words is, at bottom, a war for sovereignty." - page 69

In other words, the heart of the matter isn't our words at all, but the heart (or attitude) that our words spring up out of. I feel like Tripp is pointing me in one direction ("focus on the conversation" - "the words are the issue") and then he keeps redirecting me toward the "heart of the matter" which is our attitudes and beliefs. I suppose an analogy would be if a doctor wrote a book on the "War of the Cough" and then repeatedly said throughout the book that the cough wasn't the essential core of the problem but the cold that caused it. If that's the case, then why not focus on the cold throughout the book and address the cough as needed within that discussion? Why title the book and spend the entire first section of the book focusing on the symptom only to undermine both of those by focusing on the underlying heart of the matter for the entire rest of the book? Why not get the focus straight from the get-go and deal with the symptoms throughout as well... as symptoms, not as the central, but not primary, problem? I found this continued bifurcation of focus to be distracting as I read.

And yet, I think Tripp has some excellent things to say as well. I do agree that the root of relational problems often has far more to do with our attitudes, our need to be right, and the sense that we are in control of our lives than what words we use or how we couch them. In disagreements we often approach the other person as the enemy, rather than seeing the disunity or anger as the enemy and both our self and our supposed opponent as the victims. Christians in particular are keen to use the Bible as a weapon against our own spiritual family rather than applying it as a balm to heal the wounds that divide.

Right relationships come about when we also have a right understanding of ourselves. If we think that we know more, know better, and act better than those around us, it's quite likely that we'll have a fair bit of disunity (within our family, our workplace, our congregation, etc.). But if we are willing to take an honest look at ourselves, acknowledge our own faults, accept the help others are willing to give to change our attitudes or our behaviors, then we can grow, and change, and heal. It boils down to recognizing that we are not divine. We are not God. We don't know it all. And even when we're right about an issue, lording that rightness over another does more harm than good. It's not just our knowledge or beliefs that must be accurate, but our attitudes as well. If we cannot speak the truth in love, then we'd best just shut up until we can.

Tripp says that "our words should bring God the glory he deserves. And second, our words should bring redemptive good into the lives of the people God has placed around us." In other words, we should love the Lord our God with all our heart and love our neighbor as our self. As Christians, we should be ambassadors for God who help to bring about God's redemptive purposes, rather than ambassadors who act as agents of wrath - wrath that wells up our of our own selfishness. God is not a tool in our lives that we can wield to get our own way. In fact, entirely the opposite is true. Jesus said, "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." We're not known to be Jesus' disciples because we're right, or our opinions are shown to be better, or we act more godly than other people. We're known to be disciples because we are people who, even in difficult relationships -- like with our enemies -- operate with an attitude of love.

So in the end I think I'd recommend this book. But if you're going to skim at any point, I'd suggest skimming the first three chapters. This book challenges some of the standards attitudes and opinions within the church (at least the church in America) and in that regard I think it makes a good book for discussion. The evangelical American church is rather known for being arrogant, self-righteous, and unforgiving. As Tripp says, "It is never okay to communicate in ways that contradict [God's] message, methods, and character." (Which sounds very much like what Os Guiness said as well.) And yet Christians frequently do exactly that. Until we get to the heart of the matter, I think Christians will continue to be arrogant and bitter ambassadors for a God who is neither.

---

Quotes from the book

"Winning the war of words means living with eyes open, aware not only of our own struggle, but of other pilgrims struggling on the journey with us."

"Paul says, 'Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently....' Let's be sure we understand these words. Notice first that Paul does not say, 'If you catch someone in a sin...' He is not talking about sneaking up on someone to catch him in the act! Rather, he is talking about how we as sinners get 'caught' -- that is, entrapped and ensnared in sin."

"Self-indulgent, sin-indulgent talk contradicts our identity as the children of grace."

"Gentleness doesn't mean compromising the truth. Rather, it means keeping the truth from being compromised by harshness and insensitivity."

"When we are wronged, the thing of highest importance is not that we feel satisfied or avenged, but that we respond according to God's plan and for his glory."

"We seem to forget that, really, there is only one enemy -- and it is not the person being confronted! The purpose of confrontation is not to stand against the person, but to stand alongside him, pointing out the things God wants him to see, confess, and forsake."

"The lack of forgiveness causes us to fight God rather than submit to him and causes us to stand against rather than with one another."

"Truth is the casualty when I love myself more than I love you."

The Damage You Do

While reading John Alexander's book, I came across a note that I had written in the margin that said to "see notebook". So I pulled out my old notebook from that time period ('97-'98) and flipped through it looking for any comments I might have written. I'm not sure that I've found what I'm looking for yet, but in the meantime I came across a poem that reminded me of Meirav's recent ramblings on ketchup-removal.

The context of the poem was that someone I was rather close to was furiously, horribly, intensely upset with someone else. 

The Damage You Do

I'm not saying that I don't have blind spots, too.
I just want to express
 (to cry out before it devours you)
 that I see one of yours.
And I wouldn't bring it up,
  I wouldn't mention it
 except I see what it does to you
  and what it's doing to others.
And it makes me so incredibly sad
  so mortified that this has come to pass
that I want to come at you
  screaming
  and railing
  and pounding you
  ...until you see.
But screaming, railing & pounding
  only make the turtle
  disappear behind his armor.
So I know I must become gentle
  and patient, 
  an apt teacher. 
I need to mirror you to yourself
  in such a way
  that you will see with your own eyes
  the damage you do.
And I need to plead before God
  that he will unshutter your eyes
  and melt your heart
  and teach you once again
   of the depth and form of his forgiveness,
enabling you to forgive.

What does forgiveness look like?

When a person feels that they have been wronged, they can carry that relational transaction forward in one of two directions -- either they head toward the goal of forgiveness (though they might not actually reach it) or they can head toward revenge (though again, they might stop along the way, at holding a grudge, perhaps, or maybe just clinging to the hurt within them). Though I’ve been practicing walking down the road of forgiveness for years, I still struggle with the last bit of the path that will get me to that ultimate goal.

Cognitively I recognize that there should be a restoration of relationship. Somehow you get past the hurt and you embrace the one who did the hurting. I can envision that part. I’ve even seen it in action as painful and broken relationships have been mended between myself and others and among my friends as well.  But those times  seem more like outliers in my life. There’s still the day to day little interactions that bite and sting and yet still need to be forgiven. And that seems more impossible to me, some days, than any of those larger cases of severe pain and miraculous restoration.

According to Psych Central, forgiveness “is letting go of the need for revenge and releasing negative thoughts of bitterness and resentment.” I agree with that definition. Sometimes we say that we forgive someone, but we still feel gleeful inside when we think of things going wrong for them in a way that will prove in the end that we were right. When that happens, that’s a sign that forgiveness might have been extended but it wasn’t heartfelt (and therefore is a rather iffy form of forgiveness). But I think there’s more to forgiveness than just getting rid of the negative.  There’s a positive component that replaces that need for revenge and those negative thoughts with the need for relationship and hopeful, even excited thoughts of restoration.

I think there are different types of forgiveness as well.  What we usually think of is a reactive forgiveness -- the hurt has been done, the forgiveness is brought to bear after the fact. There is also proactive forgiveness.  This is the kind of forgiveness that’s required in those day to day relationships. It’s an overall attitude of forebearance and care for people even when they’re grumpy and dour and are needling us in all the most tender places. But what has dawned on me recently is that in the very moment when someone is annoying me or needling me or doing that thing they do that makes me feel small and unloved an unappreciated, it is right in that exact moment that my forgiveness needs to be active. And it is that in-action-forgiveness that I’ve been mulling over lately.  What does that look like? And how do I do it?

This is where I can take a lesson from my dog.  Laika loves me. When I wake up in the morning, pet her and let her out, she loves me.  When I take her for a walk or feed her or rub her belly, she loves me.  But what always amazes me about dogs is that when you accidentally step on their tail or leave them home alone for a long time or forget to feed them one day, they don’t crawl off to a corner and sulk.  They don’t put tacks on your chair or poop in your shoes.  No, what they do is yelp at the pain in their tail, hop up and come to you for comfort -- wagging their tail and nuzzling you. When you’ve left them at home all day and they’ve been lonely and miserable, they don’t berate you for your absence, they run up to the door, jump up and down, spin in circles and wag their tail like crazy because they love you.  In other words, even when you do those little needling or hurtful day to day things to your dog, they respond with overwhelming love because they forgive you right then and there.  In the very moment you have injured them, you are forgiven. They don’t treat you as your actions deserve.  They treat you as if your actions had  been the exact opposite of what you actually did.  They seek immediate and complete restoration of the relationship. Dogs are the ultimate forgivers.

So I’m trying to learn to be more like my dog.  When my mom or my kids or my husband does one of those little needling or annoying or bothersome things that humans are prone to do, I’m trying to pretend in my mind that they’ve really done just the opposite.  This doesn’t mean that when my kids hurt me by leaving a mess in the living room that I don’t ask them to clean it up.  But attitudinally, I’m trying to still love them in that moment as if they’d already cleaned it up. ... ... ... This is hard.  This is really hard.

The thing that keeps me going, that keeps me trying to think this through and act upon it is the thought that this is how I wish people would treat me. When I do something stupid or hurtful or arrogant, I don’t want people to treat me like the turd I am.  I want them to embrace me and love me as the person I could be. It’s not when someone gets mad back at me that I want to change my behavior so much as when someone loves me back even when I’ve been hurtful.  That’s when I am overwhelmed with the desire to shed my selfish ways and embrace relationship.