Reconciliation

Forgiveness and Healing: Grace Is Greater Than the Wound

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

When someone wounds us, something inside us begins keeping an account.

They owe me an apology. They owe me an explanation. They owe me the years I lost. They owe me the innocence they took. They owe me the trust they destroyed. They owe me for the humiliation, grief, or pain they caused.

Some of those debts are real. Forgiveness does not say otherwise.

But forgiveness does determine what we will do with the debt.

Paul writes in Ephesians 4:32, “Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”

The word Paul uses for “forgiving” is charizomai. It comes from the same root as charis, the word we translate as grace. It can mean to give freely, to grant graciously, or to forgive.

Forgiveness, in Paul’s language, is grace in relational form.

It is not primarily a feeling. If we wait until we feel like forgiving, we may wait for the rest of our lives. Forgiveness is a grace-shaped decision concerning what we will do with the debt created by another person’s sin against us.

We decide that we will not spend the rest of our lives trying to collect that debt through bitterness, retaliation, humiliation, or revenge. We release our personal claim to make the other person suffer as payment for what they did, and we place justice into the hands of God.

That does not mean all earthly consequences disappear. It does not mean a crime should go unreported, restitution should never be made, or accountability should be abandoned. Grace and accountability are not enemies. Forgiveness simply means that I refuse to make revenge the organizing purpose of my life.

Forgiveness Tells the Truth

We need to speak carefully about forgiveness because, in our hurry to tell hurting people they need to forgive, Christians have sometimes failed to acknowledge how deeply they were wounded.

Forgiveness is not denying that the wound happened. It is not minimizing the seriousness of the offense. It is not calling evil good. It is not excusing the offender by saying, “They couldn’t help it,” or “It really wasn’t that bad.”

Forgiveness is not forgetting. We sometimes say, “Forgive and forget,” as though faithful Christians should be able to erase painful memories. Human minds do not work that way, and Scripture does not command spiritual amnesia. Some experiences leave marks that remain for a lifetime.

Forgiveness does not automatically restore trust. Forgiveness can be given; trust must be rebuilt through truth, repentance, consistency, and time. Reconciliation may not always be possible, and forgiveness never requires someone to remain in an abusive or unsafe relationship.

Forgiveness does not eliminate consequences. A forgiven person may still lose a position, face legal consequences, or live with a permanently changed relationship. Grace does not erase wisdom, boundaries, accountability, or justice.

These distinctions matter because some people carry not only the pain of what was done to them but also the shame of believing their continued pain proves they have failed to forgive.

Healing is not always immediate. Forgiveness may begin with a decisive act, but with a deep wound it may also require repeated surrender. We may have to place the same hurt into God’s hands more than once.

The capacity of grace to forgive never diminishes the depth of the wound.

Grace is able to tell the whole truth. It can say, “What happened was wrong. It hurt me. It changed something. There were consequences. I did not deserve it.” Grace can say all of that without allowing hatred to have the final word.

Look at the cross. God’s grace never treated sin as insignificant. At the cross, God named the horror of sin and revealed the depth of divine love at the same time. Grace tells the truth about sin—and then demonstrates that sin will not have the last word.

Grace Is Greater

When we say grace is greater than the wound, we are not comparing levels of pain. We are not telling someone, “Your wound should not matter because grace matters more.” We are saying that the sin committed against us does not possess greater power than the grace of Jesus Christ at work within us.

Grace does not make the wound smaller. Grace keeps the wound from becoming greater than Jesus Christ.

Paul does not begin with the person who hurt us, the size of the offense, or the strength of our willpower. He begins with what God has already done for us: “just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”

We do not forgive to earn grace. We forgive because we have received grace. Forgiveness is not the price we pay to be forgiven by God. It is the fruit produced in people who know how much they have already been forgiven.

Grace received becomes grace extended.

We love grace when it moves in our direction. We sing about the grace that forgives our sins and reconciles us to God. We are less enthusiastic when that same grace moves toward those who have wounded us. We want mercy to explain what we did and justice to define what they did. We want the Lord to remember our weakness but remember their wickedness.

Paul does not allow us to separate the grace we receive from the grace we extend. The grace that comes to us through Jesus Christ takes shape in the way we respond to one another.

That is why forgiveness reveals so much about our spiritual formation. It is possible to know the language of grace without being gracious. It is possible to explain forgiveness while refusing to forgive. It is possible to celebrate what Christ has done for us while resisting what Christ wants to do through us.

My capacity to forgive is directly related to the depth of my spiritual formation.

That statement is not intended to shame anyone struggling to forgive. Some wounds are extraordinarily deep, and the path of healing may be long. The struggle itself may become the place where we learn to depend upon grace more deeply than ever before.

If grace is greater than my sin, then grace is greater than the sin of the person who wounded me. And if grace is greater than the sin that wounded me, then grace is greater than the wound that sin left behind.

If grace is greater than my sin, then grace is greater than my wound.

What Is Discipling Us?

The pain of a wound is not an idol, and feeling that pain is not a spiritual failure. But a wound begins to occupy the place that belongs to Christ when it defines who we are, determines how we see others, dictates our decisions, and claims authority over our future.

Before long, we are no longer simply remembering the wound. We are allowing the wound to disciple us.

The wound may be part of my story, but grace refuses to let it become the author of my story. Forgiveness does not rewrite the past. It places the future back into the hands of Jesus.

Nearly thirty years ago, I pastored a church where two men lived in the same community, worked for the same company, and worshiped in the same congregation. Somewhere along the way, a work-related offense created a division between them. I do not remember all the details, and after all these years the details are not really the point.

What I remember is that they never found their way through it.

They continued attending the same church, but they sat on opposite sides of the sanctuary. Week after week, they worshiped the same Lord, heard the same Scriptures, and received the same grace—but the division remained between them.

Both men have now died. I do not tell their story to judge their hearts. Only God knows everything that passed between them. I tell it because their story has stayed with me.

They had moved on with their lives, but it appeared that something between them had never been surrendered to the transforming grace of Jesus Christ.

That is the danger of an unforgiven wound. Life continues. We go to work. We come to church. We sing the hymns and listen to the sermon. From the outside, it may appear that we have moved on. Yet the wound may still be deciding where we sit, whom we avoid, and how far the grace we have received will be allowed to travel through us.

Is there someone I need to forgive? Is there a wound I need to surrender again? Is there a division I have learned to live with that Jesus is calling me to address?

Forgiveness may not restore every relationship. It may not remove every consequence or erase every painful memory. But it refuses to let what happened to us become more powerful in shaping our lives than what Christ has done for us.

The wound may be part of your story, but don’t let it write the ending.

Give Jesus back the pen.

Until next time, keep looking up…

If any of my reflections encouraged or challenged you, follow Not the Perfect Pastor on Facebook for more conversations about faith, ministry, and becoming faithful disciples of Jesus.

Hurry Up and Wait…

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

Patience is a fruit of the Spirit. So says the Apostle Paul in Galatians 5: 22. That being the case, I must confess that I’m not nearly as spiritual as I give myself credit for because I don’t wait well. Of course, living through this COVID-19 pandemic has revealed there are a whole lot of us followers of Jesus who are a little less holy these days.

My heart and my prayers go out to all my clergy colleague friends who are waiting to re-open the congregations they serve. They are hearing a thousand voices, each giving advice (both solicited and unsolicited) about when is the right time to re-open, or even if they should re-open. Every voice is an opinion with most differing in the advice given. For most pastors, it is a no-win situation, and yet all they can do is wait.

Though I am not waiting to know when to re-open a congregation, I am waiting to discern God’s direction for my life. After 28 years in vocational ministry, it was clear to us (my wife and me) that a season away was needed. The waiting is no fun. It is anxious. It is confusing. It is challenging. Yet, waiting is all we can do.

Waiting: A Four-letter Word

The word “wait” has become a four letter word, and I mean that in the worst sense. I’d rather do anything than wait? In fact, sometimes I would rather do the wrong thing than wait. That old prayer, “Lord, give me patience—and I want it right now!” has never been more true. In this digital age, with information at our fingertips, I don’t like to wait on anything.

The famous New England preacher of a previous century, Phillips Brooks, was known for not handling waiting too well. One day a friend saw him pacing the floor like a caged lion and asked him, “Dr. Brooks, what is the trouble?” Brooks responded, “The trouble is that I am in a hurry, but God is not!”

“I am in a hurry, but God is not” characterizes my lives, even my prayer life. I pray and I expect the answer today, this moment, the way I desire. God doesn’t work that way! And, what I seem to forget is that waiting is no passive endeavor. I need to re-learn a couple of lessons from Jesus as I’m waiting for an answer to prayer.

The Lord’s Prayer?

Jesus was a praying man. The four Gospels record seventeen specific times Jesus prayed. He prayed in different places at different times and for different reasons, but there is no prayer more meaningful than the words John records for us in chapter 17. This is the “real” Lord’s prayer.

You may recall when teaching his disciples how to pray, Jesus told them, “Pray like this: ‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name…” We call that section of scripture in Matthew 6 “The Lord’s Prayer.” In a sense, it is Jesus’ prayer – the model he gave his followers. A more accurate title, however, might be: “The Prayer of Jesus’ Disciples,” since he said to them, “You pray in this manner.”

John 17 is “The Lord’s Prayer,” par excellence. We do not rank Bible passages, because all Scripture is breathed by God as the Holy Spirit spoke through his apostles, and yet, many believers throughout the history of the church have sensed they were entering a holy place and time as they listen to Jesus pray what has been called “The High Priestly Prayer.”

This is the longest of Jesus’ recorded prayers, and in it Jesus prayed for the Father’s glory, and he prayed for his disciples…not only those first disciples, but also “all” who would come after them…that means you and me. That’s right, Jesus prayed for you and me.

The Father’s Glory

Jesus prayed for the Father to be glorified in him and through him, and in praying for the Father’s glory, Jesus teaches us how to pray in our waiting on God. Jesus said, “The hour has come…” What hour? The hour of his crucifixion! The glory of God in the cross. Glory in the suffering. Think about that a moment. We remember the mount of transfiguration, where Moses and Elijah appeared and Jesus’ face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light and God spoke from heaven with a voice all could hear. I understand that glory.

And, the glory of the adoring crowd, throwing their cloaks and palm branches before him and shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” I get that glory. But Jesus’ first words are “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you.” This can mean only one thing: the death for which God was born is now at hand.

How does the cross glorify God the Father and his Messiah? It glorifies God because it shows the cosmic significance of God’s holiness. Jesus is crucified, dead and buried to preach the surpassing beauty of holiness. This is not a peripheral thing – take it or leave it. God’s holiness holds the universe together – if it is undone, all is lost.

The cross also glorifies the misery of sin. If sin were one grain less awful than the Bible says, then Christ need not die to bring it to an end. But at the cross sin is painted in all its wretched colors, so that the hearts of God’s people will forever rejoice at their freedom from this enemy.

The cross glorifies God’s love: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son….” Someone said: “I asked Jesus how much He loved me. He answered “this much” – then he stretched out his arms and died.”

It was in his suffering that God would be glorified. What suffering are you going through? Our (my)  prayers, too often, are for deliverance. Jesus’s prayer teaches us that our prayer ought always to be, no matter what the circumstance, “Father, be glorified.” We may not like the circumstances, we may not desire the circumstances, we may not understand the circumstances, but our prayer is still, “Father, I’m in this place and my prayer is for you to take this life, take these circumstances and use them for your glory.” It’s a hard prayer to pray, but when we’re waiting for God to answer, we keep praying.

Jesus’ prayer was answered (in one sense), but it was answered only after he went through hell—literally.

Prayers Unanswered

In another sense, though, the prayer of Jesus remains to be answered. As I reflect on that fact, I confess and repent of my own impatience in prayer and in life. Jesus prayed for you and me. Notice that Jesus did not pray for health or wealth or care-free living for his disciples. He prayed for unity. That’s such a nice sounding word, and as we look around the Christian landscape, we know this prayer is yet to be answered.

So, how can we be unified with so much division? We need to realize that unity is received, not achieved. The gift of unity can never be fabricated by humans, it must be made real by the Spirit of God. It’s not a unity of organization or administration for which Jesus prayed, but a unity in personal relationships, and the unifer is Jesus Christ.

Union does not equal unity. In marriage, there can be a union of two people, but they can lack unity. Each person operates with different goals and dreams. Self-interest drives their union and therefore prevents unity in their purpose.

The pattern for unity of believers is unlike anything else on earth. It is nothing less than the unity of the Father and Son. It is not merely a unity of organization, feeling or affection, but rather a unity of purpose, and Christians are drawn to one another because we are drawn to a common center, Jesus Christ. He is the source of our unity.

Within the Church, there have been and will continue to be wide divergences of opinion and ritual. Unity prevails whenever there is a deep and genuine experience of Jesus Christ. Unity in the body of Christ prevails when Jesus is the focus, and if Jesus Christ is ever made to be less than the fullness of God born in human flesh, unity begins to fade…and the prayer of Jesus goes unanswered.

Waiting and Working

Jesus’ prayer is being answered…if not fully yet. That’s because there is still work to be done. We might say, “Jesus, too, is waiting for an answer.” He’s waiting for us to take up the work…the work of redemption and reconciliation. A truly unified community of people is a supernatural fact that has a supernatural cause. A unified Church compels the world to confess that God is at work among us. The world will never know the power of God’s salvation until the world can see a Church that is united by its confession of Jesus Christ as Lord. That’s the work Jesus left to us.

It’s also the prayer he continues to pray. Yes, Jesus is still praying for us. The Apostle Paul reminds us in Romans 8:34—“Who then will condemn us? No one—for Christ Jesus died for us and was raised to life for us, and he is sitting in the place of honor at God’s right hand, pleading for us.”

So, while I’m waiting for God…waiting for an answer…I pray and I work. I do it because I have faith. I believe the Father. I believe the Father’s love. Jesus prayed and prays because he believes the Father is faithful.

Sweeping across Germany at the end of World War II, Allied Forces searched farms and houses looking for snipers. At one abandoned house, among a heap of rubble, searchers with flashlights, found their way to the basement. There, on the crumbling wall, a victim of the holocaust had scratched a Star of David. And beneath it, in rough lettering, they found the following message:

I believe in the sun—even when it does not shine;

I believe in love—even when it is not shown;

I believe in God—even when he does not speak.

Well, God does speak, and God hears and God moves. But, I’m learning again that He does not always speak, or hear, or move immediately. Sometimes He waits to answer. God wants us to wait on Him for His answers.  Will you, with me, learn to wait, and in the waiting continue to pray, and continue to work?

Until next time, keep looking up…

A Saints Fan’s Perspective…

/ pastorlynnmalone / 1 Comment

I got a little perspective last night, which I think is ironic, since my oldest son, Adam, decided to start his own blog entitled “saintsfansperspective.” I’m also thinking it is a pretty good thing he’s in Brazil right now, and was unable to watch that thing they called a football game last night (the Saints lost–again!). He’d be terribly disappointed right now (actually, he’d probably be asleep right now–what does that say about me?), but, I suspect there are a lot of other Saints fans who are terribly disappointed right now, too.

350px-Fleur-de-lis-fill.svgI admit, I’m a little disappointed this season hasn’t gone better for the Saints. The New Orleans Saints are my team. Like my son, I’ve pulled for the Saints as long as I can remember, and I remember all the way back to 1967 (the first season they suffered a three-game home losing streak–also, their first season). I can remember wanting a Saints football uniform for Christmas when I was a kid, but what I got was a Green Bay Packers uniform. The Packers? Yes, the Packers. I guess my mom (I mean Santa) couldn’t find a Saints uniform that year, so she (I mean “he”) got the best one that could be found. Not that that gift has scarred me for life or anything, but I still don’t like the Packers (Aaron Rodgers notwithstanding) unless they’re playing any team in the NFC South. I remember rushing home from church so I could watch the Saints play (that still happens today, too, by the way), and I remember not wanting to go back for youth group because the game was still on (I had to go anyway–parents were different in those days).

My love affair with the Saints goes way back, and I suppose that DNA was seeded into my oldest son. My youngest son likes the San Francisco 49ers. I’m not sure how that happened, seeing as how they were one of the primary division rivals of the Saints for the first 30 years of their existence. I know he never heard me say a good word about the 49ers (and he never will–those rivalry waters run deep, my friends), so I’m uncertain how he latched onto that team favorite. Maybe he did it just to spite me, or maybe he likes the colors of the uniform (seriously, what could look better than black and gold?), but in this case “that apple fell far from the tree.”

I developed the unfortunate habit of posting running commentary of Saints and LSU football games on Facebook a couple of years ago. I call Facebook the “new way to watch football with friends.” My commentary usually tends toward the sarcastic and negative (especially this year–for both teams) because I tend to be a glass-half-empty kind of guy (I’m working on that, please cut me some slack). Posting cutting remarks and asking sarcastic questions helps me vent my frustration a little better, and I end up not (as my son put it in his first blog when he sold me down the river) finding creative ways to curse, without cursing. I took a couple of games hiatus from posting this year, and let’s just say, it was not a pretty picture. Yeah, I know! I hear you saying, “But, you’re a preacher. You can’t get frustrated. You shouldn’t be so negative. You’re supposed to be a person of faith.” And, I would say, “There’s a reason I titled my blog Not the Perfect Pastor.” There’s also a reason I’m a good Wesleyan–I’m going ON to perfection. I haven’t attained it yet! Actually, I have friends who’ve told me they look forward to my running in-game commentary. Tell me? Dare I disappoint them?

So? About this perspective thing…

I watched last night’s Saints game with a good deal of frustration, but even while it was being played, I was praying for the people of Ferguson, MO as the decision of the grand jury was announced. This is not a commentary on the decision of the grand jury. You can form your own commentary (and I’m sure you have). This IS a reminder that what was happening in New Orleans was just a game. When it was over, the players, the coaches and the owners collected their paychecks and went home. They packed the ball and the equipment up, shook hands, showered and went home. There was nothing earth shattering that happened as a result of that game. NOTHING! A few years from now, the only reminder will be in a record book somewhere. That same thing happens every week, every year. When the game is over, it’s over. Championships are played and winners are crowned, and there’s nothing earth-shattering, or life-changing about it. They’ll crown another one next year. Sure, go ahead and crow about being a world champion. All it means (in most cases) is an extra zero or two on the end of your paycheck, and you’re not taking that with you when life is over.

In Ferguson, MO, lives were changing, and perhaps even life in these United States. In Ferguson, MO, fires were burning, property was being destroyed, people were protesting, and the police were trying to maintain order. What happened in Ferguson, MO, is real life. Those events have the potential to change the face of our nation, and to destroy a lot of lives. These are the things we should be frustrated over. These are the things we should be praying about. These are the situations we, as disciples of Jesus Christ, should be working to redeem and reconcile. We should be praying for peace and working for peace. We should be praying for God’s grace, and we should be vessels of God’s grace, not only in Ferguson, but wherever we see brokenness in people, and in our world. That’s our calling. At least, that’s the way I read 2 Corinthians 5:18-21:

18 And all of this is a gift from God, who brought us back to himself through Christ. And God has given us this task of reconciling people to him. 19 For God was in Christ, reconciling the world to himself, no longer counting people’s sins against them. And he gave us this wonderful message of reconciliation. 20 So we are Christ’s ambassadors; God is making his appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, “Come back to God!” 21 For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ.

So, I’ve gained a little perspective from my son, from a game and from Ferguson, MO. I ask the Lord to help me keep that perspective, especially next Sunday when the Saints travel to play the Pittsburgh Steelers. For three hours, I’ll likely get a little frustrated, but I pray I remember it doesn’t really matter. I pray I remember there are weightier matters that demand my attention, that in the grand sweep of eternity makes all the difference in the world. I should probably focus a whole lot more on those things. That’s what would make me a better disciple. That’s what would likely make me a better pastor. And, that’s what will make a real, life-changing difference in the world.

Until next time, keep looking up…