Captain’s Log · Entry Two
I’ve been thinking a lot about forgiveness lately.
Mostly because I’ve discovered I’m not particularly good at it.
One of the most beautiful things in all of Scripture is Jesus on the cross. He’s been beaten, mocked, and nailed to a piece of wood. And what does He say?
“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”
Not Father, get even. Not Father, wait until these fellows find out who they’re dealing with.
Forgive them. The people killing Him.
If Jesus is hanging on a cross asking God to forgive the men killing Him, He’s imitating God. And if Jesus Christ is God, then God and Christ are one in this. Christ imitates God, God is revealed in Christ, and all must be forgiven.
That isn’t a footnote. It’s the whole ballgame.
So maybe hell is here on earth. That’s a question I’m still wrestling with.
And then we have to get busy forgiving everybody. We can’t be forgiven unless we forgive others.
I’ve argued plenty of cases in my head. I’ve delivered some magnificent closing arguments.
Not one of them has brought me peace.
We can’t remove the splinter from our brother’s eye until we remove the log from our own.
I’ve been walking around thinking I’ve got a log in my eye. Turns out I’ve got the whole tree. The stump, the branches, the leaves, the squirrels, and probably a family of woodpeckers.
And somehow I still manage to spot the tiniest speck in everybody else’s eye. That’s a remarkable talent.
I walk around with unforgiveness, and I have to wake up and deal with it every morning.
Forgiveness isn’t a single grand gesture. It’s a practice, and it’s one I’m trying to start now.
Jesus didn’t wait for the men crucifying Him to apologize. He forgave them while they were still holding the hammer.
That’s the example I’m trying to follow.
First, though, I’ve got some lumber to remove.
“For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.”
Matthew 6:14 (KJV)
