When Dawson and my daughter Marissa were young, I desperately wanted to help them understand God’s offer of forgiveness and that Jesus had to suffer so we could be forgiven. So I came up with a crazy idea. I sat the kids down and shared with them that from now on, if one of them did something wrong and deserved a spanking the other could elect to take the spanking. I explained that this is what Jesus did for us. We were guilty, innocent, but he chose to “take our spanking.” (Substitutionary atonement for toddlers!)
They seemed to understand, but no one got in trouble for a long time, so we didn’t have a chance to test out my new system. One day almost a year later we were driving somewhere and the kids were acting up, especially Marissa, and I gave them a warning or two. Then I realized it might be a good chance to remind them of our family’s spanking policy. I explained that if Marissa kept up her bad behavior and it warranted a spanking, Dawson could choose to take the spanking for her. It got quiet in the car for a couple minutes, and then Marissa started whining. I asked why and she said, “Daddyyyyy, when do I get to spank Dawson? I want to spank Dawson!”
Isn’t that funny? Marissa was given a chance to avoid a punishment she deserved, and instead of being grateful, all she wanted was to dole out punishment on someone else. The problem with Marissa was that she wasn’t viewing herself as being guilty and in need of mercy, but instead she put herself in the role of judge. That’s our problem too. The reason we find forgiving so difficult is because we play judge, and so we’re quick to determine guilt and assign penalties, rather than viewing ourselves as in need of mercy. And that makes all the difference.
Did you read the story about Mark Morice? Shortly after Hurricane Katrina hit, Mark Morice saw flood victims hanging on to rooftops and clinging to tree branches. He realized that these people were going to die. He noticed an 1.8-foot pleasure boat. He didn’t know it, but the boat belonged to a man named John Lyons. Mark Morice isn’t the kind of guy who steals, but this was a desperate moment that called for desperate measures. Moved by mercy, Morice took the boat and ended up rescuing more than two hundred people with it. Later he passed the boat on to others, who used it to rescue more people. Ultimately the boat was lost. After all the chaos settled down, John Lyons (the boat owner) was looking for the boat, and Mark Morice voluntarily identified himself, explaining that he took the boat and saved all those people in it. John Lyons sued Mark Morice for $12,000.
Why? Because John Lyons put himself in the role of judge rather than viewing himself as someone who needs mercy. If Mark Morice had saved John Lyons or one of his kids that day, I doubt John Lyons would have filed a lawsuit. Why not? Because he would have seen himself as someone in need of mercy. (I have to admit that when I first heard this story, I wanted to find John Lyons and punch him in the throat. Why? Because I put myself in the role of judge. 0 irony, thy sting is great.)
If you’ve been having trouble forgiving, is it because you’re viewing yourself as a judge rather than someone in need of mercy? Are you more focused on trying to punish others than on being grateful that you’ve been forgiven?
The problem is that if we go through life as a judge, unwilling to forgive, we keep ourselves trapped in a cell of our own bitterness. The irony is that we feel like we’re making the other person pay by not forgiving them, but we’re actually the one suffering. Only when we focus on the fact that we were in need of mercy and received forgiveness are we able to offer forgiveness, releasing and hurling away the past and finally freeing ourselves from the cell of our bitterness.
Wouldn’t you like to be a part of a worldwide revolution of love that employs forgiveness as its most powerful weapon? Then who do you need to forgive? To whom could you offer an extraordinary invitation? Who could you kill with kindness?
RESPONSES WELCOME