On Forgiveness

(remember me? yeah I didn't think so. Probably no one ever reads this anymore and if so I don't blame you. not that you'll ever know I don't blame you, since you don't read this . . . )


Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?”

Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.
Matthew 18:21-22

I never really thought of myself as a person who struggled with forgiveness. Not that I gave myself any great spiritual credit for that - it seemed a personality thing. For one thing I have a short attention span - too short to really hold a grudge. For another, I simply hate pain of a broken relationship and am willing to do almost anything to "make everything okay."

But now! Now I am learning a whole new type of forgiveness. One that's not at all natural, or rewarding or . . . much of anything really. I'm teaching junior high. I have two hundred students. A solid quarter of these have no desire to listen, to obey, or even to have a mildly civil conversation. On the contrary, several try intently to do everything in their power to irritate and annoy me (this is not my imagination. They have boasted of it - to my face - proudly). So far I'm holding up okay - no screaming, no cursing, no crying. But my outward and inward responses are often two different things. Inside I'm frustrated - even angry. How dare a 13 year old boy think he can tell me to . . . well never mind! I won't repeat it! How dare a 12 year old girl defy me publicly in my ever delicately balanced classroom?!

Its one thing to forgive a sibling or parent. I can forgive a heartbreak or embrace a roommate or friend whom I dearly love. But to forgive someone who has never shown himself lovable, to smile every morning at someone who has promised herself to hate you - no matter what. That's a different story. Its easy to forgive where you love. Its a lot harder to forgive and then try to love.

But once in a while I have small victories. A conversation with that boy who told me to do that thing I wouldn't repeat earlier, helps me see him - not as someone sent to ruin my life, but as a real person, a real child with pain and sin and all the baggage. I realize that, in this context, its not enough to want things to be okay. I have to see myself the way I see him; as a person unlovable, undeserving, and yet - miraculously - forgiven. I haven't got it yet - but I think I'm learning!