Forgiveness

Volume Three—Chapter Six FORGIVENESS

#What, Precisely, Is Forgiveness?

In a previous chapter, we explored the subject of justification—the Lord’s forgiving the sins of man.1 In this chapter, we will discuss the need for one man or woman to forgive another. There exists a general misconception in the Church, and indeed, in the world about forgiving and forgiveness. The purpose of this chapter will be to describe, in some detail, the process of forgiveness and the blessings it brings.

#The “Grey Areas” of Offending and Being Offended

There are countless circumstances here in mortality in which one person may offend another. In a relatively small number of cases, a completely guiltless or blameless person is injured or offended by a fellow human being. For example, an innocent child may be taken advantage of by a sinful adult. In most situations of giving offense and being offended, the guilt or innocence of the players are not as clear cut. There are usually “two sides to the story.” That is, one person may give offense, but feel justified in some way for doing so: “I know I said or did that, but I feel I was justified in my actions. Given the same circumstances, I think you would have said or done the same thing!” It would seem that a completely impartial and wise judge would seldom find one of the parties in such a situation guilty and the other completely guiltless. Ordinarily both would share in the guilt.

#A Model for Understanding Forgiveness

Let us suppose two individuals are standing, facing one another. You are one of the individuals. The other, let us call him Robert, has just said or done something that offended you. Two problems then inevitably arise in your mind and heart. First, you decide that Robert has said or done something that is unjust. In making this decision, you have judged him, and you have found him in the wrong. Second, you have been hurt, and feelings of resentment, anger, frustration, grief, a desire to retaliate, a desire to seek vengeance, or even hatred appear. This judgment and these negative feelings are directed against Robert. Robert senses these and feels accused. He will likely feel that your accusations are unfounded or unfair. He judges you guilty. He will develop feelings for you similar to yours for him. The relationship between you and Robert is damaged.

#The Problem and What You Can and Can’t Do About It

At this point, you have two significant spiritual problems that need fixing:

1. You have judged a brother, and therefore you have broken a commandment. The Lord said “Judge not that ye be not judged” (Matthew 7:1). The guilt or innocence of Robert in this matter is not your concern. It has nothing to do with you. It is a matter exclusively between Robert and the Lord. It is not your responsibility or your right to judge him. You are not empowered to pronounce his guilt or grant him forgiveness for any sins he might have committed in the matter. The Lord has given the guideline for this situation. He said, “Ye ought to say in your hearts—let God judge between me and thee, and reward thee according to thy deeds” (D&C 64:11). Though it is most difficult, we must eventually school ourselves to decline to judge or to condemn others. We must learn not to take things personally but leave it to God to reward or condemn our adversaries.

Suspending judgment concerning the motives or guilt of those with whom we disagree, however, is not the same as letting them have their way. We will learn, later on in this chapter, that this principle does not require us to put ourselves or our stewardship at risk. It only mandates that we deal with opposition non-judgmentally.

2. You are also harboring ill feelings that will surely hamper your spiritual progress. The negative feelings you have developed toward Robert are potentially dangerous for you, spiritually speaking. They may poison the process of your own spiritual growth.

This situation, then, has resulted in an urgent need for repair and healing. This must occur by the process of forgiveness. You must forgive Robert. But what does that mean? How do you proceed? What exactly is the process of forgiveness?

I suggested above that there exists a common and fundamental misconception regarding the concept of forgiveness. You may mistakenly assume that when you decide to forgive Robert for a supposed offense, you must simply try to replace your hostile feelings for him with positive feelings and then announce to him: “I forgive you.” You then suppose that the process is complete. You have done your duty. You have forgiven him.

Is this proper forgiveness? Does this solve the problems? Does it start the process of healing in both of your souls, and does it begin to heal your relationship? The answer is that this approach does not result in complete forgiveness. If, in saying “I forgive you,” you mean that you have made real effort to remove the ill will you have for Robert, then you have partly forgiven him. The problem is that you have done nothing about your sin of judging him, in fact you may have made things worse, as we will learn.

Almost always, in situations of offense, both parties are in need of spiritual repair and require the salutary process of forgiveness. Each bears responsibility for mending his own soul and doing what he can to heal the relationship. Neither, on his own, can complete the process.

Does this mean you have responsibility only for yourself and not for Robert? Am I suggesting you ignore him and concentrate only on your own spiritual predicament? Should you turn your attentions completely to yourself? What effects can you or should you have in Robert’s life? Should you be concerned about your relationship with him? We will learn that both you and Robert must take primary responsibility for yourselves and appropriately initiate the process of forgiveness. If you do, you will facilitate the healing of the relationship between the two of you.

#The Process of Forgiveness

Each of us, then, tends to incorrectly regard forgiveness as our willingness to say to Robert, “I forgive you of the wrongs you have done to me. I forgive you of the ways in which you have offended me. I’m going to try to forget them and get on with my life. I’m going to try to eliminate the ill will I’ve held in my heart for you. Let’s continue to be friends.” Why is this not a correct approach?

To say, “I forgive you” implies that Robert has done something wrong. By your statement, you communicate: “You have offended me. You know it and I know it, and I have decided to just ignore it, to live with it, to ‘let it pass.’” This would have no benefit of spiritual healing. In fact it would add significantly to the growing division between you and Robert. Implicit in this specious “forgiveness” of Robert is your judgment of him. You are deigning to forgive him in spite of his unbecoming behaviors.

So, what is the process of forgiveness? How should you appropriately set about to “forgive” Robert. Whatever “forgiveness” is, it must be truly reparative.

You must take the initiative. You must start the process of healing. It is highly likely you and Robert share responsibility in the offense. Robert’s role, including any blame in the matter, is really out of your hands. It is not your concern. There is nothing you can do about it. You must do those things that are in your power. You are in need of the beneficial effects of the process of forgiveness. First and foremost, you need to be forgiven! And the forgiveness you so badly need must come not from Robert, but from the Lord. You are at least guilty of judging, and you are harboring feelings that can potentially canker your soul.

There are two essential steps you must take in your “forgiveness” of Robert. 1. First, you must ask him to forgive you for anything you might have done to offend him. And you must apologize and ask his forgiveness for your role in the difficulty or rancor that has appeared in your relationship. You must not be concerned about whether or not Robert’s offensive words or actions were justified.

Here is the great irony in forgiving someone. Instead of saying, “I forgive you,” you must say “Will you forgive me?” This seems initially illogical. You need to forgive him, yet you are asking him to forgive you!

This “asking forgiveness” shows respect to Robert and makes him feel less accused and judged. You are repenting of having judged him. This often, but not always, does much to repair the relationship. You must not be concerned about how he responds to your initiative.

2. Then, you must deliberately try to control and eventually eliminate the negative feelings you have toward him. You are to blame for them. They are your problem— your spiritual impediment—and not his. To do this is often a difficult challenge, as it flies in the face of your natural self. Your “natural” inclination is to continue to harbor the feelings. “After all,” you might rationalize, “those feelings are justified, are they not? He is to blame, not me.”

The process of forgiveness, then, involves our having to repent of our two significant sins in the matter. We must repent of any wrongful part we may have played in the initial offense. We acknowledge and apologize for any wrong we might have done. Thus we repent of having judged him. Also, we must repent of the ill-will we held toward and expressed to the other individual. We do this deliberately—we exercise “deliberate charity” by disciplining our feelings and eliminating those that are negative. The Holy Ghost will judge your efforts as you deliberately endeavor to control your feelings. When they are judged adequate, he will justify (forgive) you of your sins in the matter. He will also sanctify you. You will recall that sanctification is a two-fold process whereby the Spirit (1) purges an increment of your natural inclinations from you soul, and (2) grants you an increment of the appropriate spiritual gift.2 In this particular case the Spirit purges from you your “natural” ill feelings for the other and grants to you a spiritual gift. But what is that gift? We may refer to it as the gift of forgiveness, but, in fact, it is the gift of charity. You cannot forgive or feel forgiven without the spiritual gift of forgiveness/charity.

There is a significant irony connected to this gift. When you possess the gift of forgiveness, we may say that you have forgiven the “offender.” In fact, the real truth is that the possessor of this gift is confident that he has been forgiven of any responsibility he may have had in the situation. He feels at peace with the Lord. He has done what he can. He has forgiven and been forgiven (at least by the Lord). His feelings for the other will actually change as the Lord begins to reveal to him the gift of charity.

If the other person does not participate in the process of forgiveness, then he will not receive the gift, and the relationship will continue to suffer because he will have judged you and will still harbor negative feelings. If both parties participate separately in this process, then both receive the gift and the justification and sanctification of each mends their relationship. Both become “new creatures.” The erstwhile negative feelings will disappear, and both will be at peace. Both will receive divine help in perceiving the other’s true inner self. Both will be better able to extend love (charity) to the other. Both will possess an increment of the gift of charity.3

The dramatic changes produced by the process of forgiveness in the souls of both offenders and in their relationship are truly miraculous. They constitute the “miracle of forgiveness,” President Spencer W. Kimball described so memorably in his book, Miracle of Forgiveness.

#Examples of Real Forgiveness

In his book, Bonds That Make Us Free,” Dr. C. Terry Warner, relates two examples of real forgiveness. The first involved Ellie, a music teacher and a student of Dr. Warner’s:

Four years before approaching me, Ellie had gradually begun to recall having been abused sexually by her father when she was still a girl. She had worked with a psychiatrist for much of those four years. In spite of her efforts she had gained no fundamental relief, no healing. “I feel as if I am a flute clogged up with sludge. I make all kinds of effort, but no music comes out of me.” I asked whether she had forgiven her father. She said she had thought she had but wasn’t sure, because she still had no peace.

Then I asked her: “Have you sought his forgiveness for your hard feelings toward him all these years?” She had not. It had never occurred to her to do so. I suggested that forgiveness consists not of forgetting what happened, but of repenting of unforgiving feelings about what happened, and if possible seek forgiveness.

A light went on in her face. She pondered for a few moments and said, “I’m gong to do that.” The next day she told me she had written a letter to her father the night before, asking his forgiveness. She said, “I saw that by blaming him I was refusing to forgive. I was refusing to admit that he too had suffered in his life and needed my compassion. And now that I have done this, I feel free for the first time in my life. This morning, music is flowing through me and it is sweet.” Since that day, this woman has written me letters filled with happiness. In one she said of her father, “Last week I even asked his advice, and he was shocked and pleased” (295-96).

Dr. Warner’s second story unfolded when a twenty-nine-year-old woman named Margaret asked to attend one of his classes.

Margaret had been in counseling or therapy continuously for fourteen years, chronically depressed and almost non-functional. She blamed her inability to get on in life on her mother—though she claimed she would go for long periods without allowing herself to think of her mother (which is obviously an accusing thing to do, since it’s a way of saying, “You’re too despicable to think about, you upset me so much.”) At any one time, she said, she had at most one friend, toward whom she would behave so possessively that after a few weeks or months the friend could not tolerate her anymore and would then leave her alone. Her lips trembled when she talked and were pinched in when she didn’t, and almost always her eyes were downcast. I found it hard to pity her because she was obviously spending a lot of pity on herself already. In private I learned that her mother had frequently abused her sexually when she was a child and, as Margaret thought, ruined her forever.

The class extended over the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. When we reconvened on January 10, Margaret was the only participant not present. We started anyway, and about twenty minutes into the session a woman whom I did not recognize entered the room and took a seat at one of the tables where the participants were sitting. As I usually do in situations like this, I let the discussion continue—interruptions can break the class’s concentration. After a few minutes I realized with a shock who the woman was and whispered to the person next to me, “It’s Margaret.” Simultaneously, I noticed, others were doing the same thing. Margaret’s face was relaxed, and there was a natural dignity in her bearing that had been completely absent before. And when she spoke, as she did presently, her lips did not tremble. The self-pity was gone. To me, her countenance seemed to be illuminated.

She asked to speak, and told us she had taken the train over the holiday to see her mother, whom she had freely forgiven. She told her mother that, more than anything else, she wanted her to have some peace before she died. She asked her mother’s forgiveness for the hatred she had borne toward her through so many years. In the days following her return she often had tender feelings toward her mother, and called and wrote to her.

I have heard from Margaret periodically in the ensuing years. Her “cure” was far from instant, but that visit to her mother proved to be a turning point. After about a year, in which things gradually improved in her relationships with roommates, her fear of being betrayed by them finally disappeared. She has been able to hold a job successfully. Each time I hear from her she seems to be going a little better (296-97).

In a poignant addition to his story about Margaret, Dr. Warner added, “Margaret got back no reciprocal apology from her mother. After Margaret asked for forgiveness, her mother just sat there, silent and cold” (Ibid., 300). This did not, however, prevent Margaret from benefiting from the experience. She was liberated from long standing bonds of anguish.

Another poignant example of forgiveness in modern history is reported by Corrie ten Boom in her autobiography, The Hiding place. In modern history perhaps no more atrocious crime has been committed than the Holocaust, the systematic murder of millions of Jews, political prisoners, handicapped persons, and others by Hitler’s Nazi regime. Corrie ten Boom, a Christian political prisoner, survived the concentration camp at Ravensbruck, but her beloved sister Betsie did not. After the war Corrie traveled the world preaching sermons of reconciliation, peace, and forgiveness. Then it happened. She was called upon to practice what she preached. She records in her autobiography, the defining moment of her Christian discipleship:

It was at a church service in Munich that I saw him, the former S.S. man who had stood guard at the shower room door in the processing center at Ravensbruck. He was the first of our actual jailers that I had seen since that time. And suddenly it was all there—the roomful of mocking men, the heaps of clothing, Betsie’s pain-blanched face.

He came up to me as the church was emptying, beaming and bowing. “How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein,” he said. “To think that, as you say, he has washed my sins away!”

His hand was thrust out to shake mine. And I, who had preached so often . . . the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side. Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him.

I tried to smile. I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me your forgiveness.

As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me.

And so I discovered that it is not on our own forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world’s healing hinges, but on his. When he tells us to love our enemies, he gives, along with the command, the love itself (Corrie Ten Boom, with John and Elizabeth Sherrill, The Hiding Place, 238).

We can learn much about the principles of forgiveness from the Old Testament story of Abigail and David (1 Samuel 25). Abigail’s husband Nabal was a wealthy sheep owner. While Abigail was a “woman of good understanding, and of a beautiful countenance,” her husband was “churlish and evil in his doings.” On one occasion, Nabal made a feast for his shearers. David sent word to him and asked for a tribute, as recognition of the protection Nabal had enjoyed for his flocks. Nabal refused. David then prepared for a raid on his property. But Abigail, the wife of Nabal, saved the situation by sending to David, without the knowledge of her husband, a handsome gift of provisions. In the meantime, Nabal feasted and drank. The next day, when he heard what his wife had done, “His heart died within him, and he became as a stone.” About ten days afterwards he died.

#Forgiveness—Conditional or Unconditional?

Is the forgiveness required of us here totally unconditional? Are we allowed to resist injustice in this world? Does the Lord’s command to forgive, for example, require you drop criminal or civil charges against an employee who has embezzled from you? Does it require you to rehire him or her? Should the priesthood leader of an errant church member, in the spirit of unconditional forgiveness, refuse to hold a disciplinary council?

Some scripture passages seem to suggest that the Lord might expect unconditional forgiveness from each of us. That is, we must forgive regardless of the offense. For example: “Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to forgive one another; for he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin. I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men” (D&C 64:9-10). Also: “Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven” (Matthew 18:21-22). The numbers seven and ten are both symbolic of completion. Seven times ten times seven (or “seventy times seven”) seems to symbolize a perfection of completion, or an infinity thereof. God’s goodness and forgiveness are infinite, and we ever seek to be like him.

On the other hand, another passage suggests that we may withhold forgiveness in certain circumstances: “Take heed to yourselves: If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him; and if he repent, forgive him. And if he trespass against thee seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again to thee, saying, I repent; thou shalt forgive him” (Luke 17:3-4, italics added). This verse suggests that a condition for forgiveness in some situations may be the repentance of the offender.

Our requirement to forgive is not totally unconditional. We do not have a completely unqualified obligation. It would seem that there are three qualifying principles:

1. The trespasser must repent, or at least stop giving offense. While the Lord does require unconditional repentance from his people, he has built in some protections against the repeat offenders. This is explained in modern scripture that we may refer to as “the law of forgiveness.” It provides us a more complete explanation for Luke 17:3-4.

And again, verily I say unto you, if after thine enemy has come upon thee the first time, he repent and come unto thee praying thy forgiveness, thou shalt forgive him, and shalt hold it no more as a testimony against thine enemy—And so on unto the second and third time; and as oft as thine enemy repenteth of the trespass wherewith he has trespassed against thee, thou shalt forgive him, until seventy times seven. And if he trespass against thee and repent not the first time, nevertheless thou shalt forgive him. And if he trespass against thee the second time, and repent not, nevertheless thou shalt forgive him. And if he trespass against thee the third time, and repent not, thou shalt also forgive him. But if he trespass against thee the fourth time thou shalt not forgive him, but shalt bring these testimonies before the Lord; and they shall not be blotted out until he repent and reward thee four-fold in all things wherewith he has trespassed against thee. And if he do this, thou shalt forgive him with all thine heart; and if he do not this, I, the Lord, will avenge thee of thine enemy an hundred-fold; And upon his children, and upon his children’s children of all them that hate me, unto the third and fourth generation. But if the children shall repent, or the children’s children, and turn to the Lord their God, with all their hearts and with all their might, mind, and strength, and restore four-fold for all their trespasses wherewith they have trespassed, or wherewith their fathers have trespassed, or their fathers’ fathers, then thine indignation shall be turned away; And vengeance shall no more come upon them, saith the Lord thy God, and their trespasses shall never be brought any more as a testimony before the Lord against them” (D&C 98:39-48).

How many times must we forgive the individual who repeatedly repents? The answer is “seventy times seven” (a hyperbolic quantity, meaning indefinitely). The continually trespassing individual must repent of his wrong doing; otherwise, you are entitled to protect yourself against his further trespassing.

Practically speaking, if a person offends us but never repents, we are required to complete the steps to forgiveness outlined above. If he continues to offend, we are well advised and justified in simply avoiding further contact with him—avoiding further opportunities for offense.

2. The right of self defense. The principle of forgiveness does not deprive us of the right to act in our own defense. We are not allowed to hate the aggressor or to hold a grudge against him, but we are not required to suffer preventable injury at his hands either, even on a first offense. The right of self-defense also justifies severing any contact with someone who constitutes a physical, moral, mental, emotional, financial, or spiritual hazard for us.

3. The right to seek for justice. To forgive an individual who has embezzled or stolen money from you requires that you rid yourself of all bitterness, hatred, or desire for revenge. But forgiveness does not require that all relations and feelings be restored to what they once were between the forgiver and the forgiven. One need not drop criminal or civil charges against someone who has stolen from you. A priesthood leader should not refuse to hold an appropriate disciplinary council. It is possible to forgive those who have offended you while at the same time preferring not to deal with the individual again. Forgiveness is about the elimination of negative feelings but not always about the unconditional restoration of former relationships and privileges.

#We Are Forgiven as We Forgive

If we would be forgiven by the Lord, then we must be willing to forgive. The scriptures teach: “For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matthew 6:14-15). Matthew 6:12 reads, “And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” We should now be able to respond to these passages of scripture by saying, “Of course that is true. I now see clearly why they are true.” As we set about to “forgive” another, our actions are actually aimed at seeking the Lord’s forgiveness for any sin or guilt we have in the matter. He won’t forgive us until we have done so—until we have completed the process of forgiving. He is the judge, and, unlike us, he has the right to withhold his forgiveness.

This principle is dramatically illustrated in the parable of the unmerciful servant. This parable tells a simple, yet incredible story. A man owes a tremendous sum of money to his king and hasn’t paid it in a timely manner. The king nearly sells the man and his family into slavery in an attempt to recoup part of the money. But when the man pleads for more time, the king instead forgives him the entire debt. Much relieved, the man leaves the presence of the king. Not long afterward, he searches out a “fellowservant” who owes him a relatively small amount of money. The creditor literally attacks the debtor, taking him by the throat and demanding immediate payment. When the debtor pleads for more time, his creditor refuses and has him thrown into prison. When the king finds out what his servant has done—he refused to grant a small mercy when such a great mercy was offered to him—he revokes his previous magnanimous offer and has the servant also thrown into prison (Matthew 18:23-35). The Lord withdraws his forgiveness because the man refused to forgive.

The moral to this story/parable is a sobering one. “So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses” (Matthew 18:35). We can avoid the punishment if we will forgive others their trespasses with all our hearts. But if we fail to so forgive, “so likewise” shall God do to us. He will be “angry” (figuratively at least) and deliver us to torment. As James said, “He shall have judgment without mercy, that hath shewed no mercy” (James 2:13). Obviously, we must forgive one another from our very hearts if we hope to be forgiven by our heavenly Father.

This “conditional forgiveness policy” of the Lord’s should not be surprising. It is only our participation in the process of forgiveness than can result in our justification and sanctification. If we persist in holding a grudge (we refuse to participate in the forgiveness process) against another individual who has confessed and repented of any wrong doing in the affair, our continuing to hold the grudge will not keep the other from receiving God’s forgiveness, but it will render us unfit for that forgiveness (Matthew 6:14-15).

It is reported that Brigham Young once said that he who takes offense when no offense was intended is a fool, and he who takes offense when offense was intended is usually a fool. He then described two courses of action to follow when one is bitten by a rattlesnake. One may, in anger, fear, or vengefulness, pursue the creature and kill it. Or he may make full haste to get the venom out of his system. If we pursue the latter course, we will likely survive, but if we attempt to follow the former, we may not be around long enough to finish it.

#Forgiveness and Charity

When we enter into a covenant relationship with God, wherein we partake of the blessings of Christ’s atonement, he requires us to enter into a new relationship with our fellowman. As he has demonstrated great love, compassion, and mercy to us, so must we do to others.

Jesus has commanded us to love one another. We are to love freely and in a godly way. An essential part of such love is to forgive. Each of us owes the Savior a tremendous, debt that cannot be repaid. He paid a terrible, unspeakable price to redeem us. Doesn’t it make sense, then, that we must be willing to forgive a small debt of our fellowman?

See a discussion of justification—the removal of the penalties of sin—in volume 1, chapter 17, Justification and Sanctification.

2 Again, see volume 1, chapter 17, Justification and Sanctification.

See volume 2, chapter 7, Charity As a Revealed Sense of Others.