2 Days Journey: Going Deep Within To Find Forgiveness

     A few years ago, while serving as Interim Senior Pastor at a Church in south metropolitan Atlanta, I started a writing ministry I called "Letters to Socrates".  In those letters that became quite popular for discussion groups as well as points of interest to individuals, I answered real questions folks had posed to me to a fictitious friend I called Socrates.  Below is one of those letters I penned to a person who struggled with forgiving another person the horrid wrong committed against her.

It is meant to be pondered and offered for your own reflection.  Not one of us has not been wronged and not one of us has not held, to some degree, a vindictive spirit.  I trust this will minister to you this weekend.

With that, I am...

Peter

    Socrates!
My friend! How wonderful to hear from you again. It has been so long since last we chatted. We really are going to have to stop this madness, Socrates. The culture in urban life we both embrace feeds this rushing madness I am afraid. We are too busy, Socrates! Much too busy! Friends are to stay in touch, are they not? If so, then shall we make a vow to stay in touch? Do so with me my friend I beg! Good! It’s settled then. No more long periods before our minds meet again. With you, I feel much better now.

To the question that seems to haunt your soul. If it is any comfort to you, Socrates, others are unhappily haunted as well. It is almost without exception that humans of all colors and countries experience exactly as do you: the struggle to forgive another for a wrong against you. Indeed I myself, old friend, have been haunted by these very same ghosts for not a few years now. Forgiveness is a sculpture that even the best of artists spoil. With that, Socrates, I then admit that my own experiences cannot be the final hope for you.

There is yet another way to help you see, my friend, the malady of an unforgiving soul. Would you desire to know it? Do you think you are up to it? You need to be aware at the beginning, Socrates, that if you decide you want the help, then you must be prepared to go on a journey with me. It is not a long journey but a deep one…a journey within. It is there, my favored Socrates, that you will find the answer to an unforgiving spirit. Jesus instructs us:

“So My heavenly Father also will do to you if each of you, from his heart, does not forgive his brother his trespasses”(italics mine) 

Here Jesus is not speaking of one dimension of forgiveness; rather He is speaking of the essence of all forgiveness. Forgiveness essentially is from the heart. It is inward in nature; thus must relief come only by inward remedy. Therefore, if you are ready, Socrates, we will proceed.

As we go in, Socrates, may I remind you this is but an imaginary journey, with imaginary foes and imaginary grievances. Indeed the only thing not imaginary is the soul solution to unforgiveness we will at journey’s end see. So, beware, friend, and do not fear. We move quickly.

Imagine, then, Socrates, imagine…It is only pretend, so do not be afraid…Imagine that deep down within your soul there is a room there—not quite large in fact. There is one door and only one door to the room. It is YOUR room, Socrates. You own the room and you control the room because you hold in your sole possession the only key to the only door. Indeed no one else has a key or could in a thousand lifetimes obtain one. The room belongs to you.

Now, Socrates, this is not just any room. Remember, though, this is only imaginary…so pretend this room is a holding room—a prison cell, we might say. Do not be afraid, Socrates, to imagine. Imagine with all your imagination that in this room that you control, there is a chair. Can you see it, Socrates? Good. Now, this chair is no ordinary chair but one especially designed for you, Socrates. It has thick leather straps on it to immobilize whatever or whoever sits in the chair. Pretend, my friend, it has contraptions to hold head straight ahead and eyes wide open. Do you see this, Socrates?

If so, now, my hurt friend, place in the chair, your criminal. The one who has despised you or poisoned your wife’s cat or stole your money or lied about your character or yelled at you in front of your colleagues or whatever else this low-down, excuse for a human has done. Is he there, Socrates? Do you suppose he is really there? In the chair, of course. It is all pretend so do not be afraid, my friend. Place him there. He deserves it, does he not?

As we proceed, my fellow struggler, imagine now that you can give this sorry rascal what he deserves. You dish it out. Do not be shy. If he insulted you, let him have it back! Tell him what a no-good so & so he is. If he physically harmed you, what the heck—remember it is only pretend—hurt him back. Come on! Do not be afraid, Socrates. He deserves it. Stick needles in his fingers. Smash his foot with a hammer. Cut out his tongue. Torture him just as you feel he tortured you. Lex talionis rules! Eye for eye! Tooth for tooth! Do as you wish. It is your room, your chair and your choice. After all, it is really only pretend…

Whew! After all that imagining, Socrates, you do seem to me tired and worn somewhat. Tell you what: let us take a break, shall we? To do so, we will head back outside for a while. Nevertheless, later, I am afraid, we must take a short journey back inside to get one final peek at something you really need to see. Fair enough?

What do we learn from our journey to the inner room we all seem to have, Socrates? I think we learn several things. First, I think we learn that most of us have that room in our hearts. The room where we hold captive our transgressors and give to them what we believe they deserve. We torture them, maim them, insult them, curse them. We tell them they will never leave our room for we, the holder of the only key, will see to it that they escape not. Over and over we play the tape of their sins against us and our righteous vengeance toward them. Our chair, our choice!

Second, and even more importantly, Socrates, we learn that unforgiveness is not unlike what happens in that inner room. Unforgiveness is refusing to let people go for the sins they commit against us. We hold them captive, in our little room where we dish out justice—pure justice—for their crimes against us. We strap them to the chair and hold them accountable for every idle word. But remember, Socrates. We do not actually hold them. It is all on the inside of us. No court of law could ever convict us for holding them against their will or torturing them.

Indeed the one who sinned against us would himself not know what we had done to him. Were he called to the witness stand against you and the Judge asked him “did not Socrates hold you against you will, torture you, maim you and refuse to let you go?” his answer surely would be “Why, no your Honor. Socrates has never laid hands on me nor has he ever held me against my will. And as for torture, I fear you have the wrong man.” Why would he say this? Remember, it is all inside you, Socrates.

It is almost time to go back in for one final peek, my friend. However, one last lesson we learn. If it could be, it is the most crucial lesson. Listen well. We learn from our trip to the little room, Socrates, that forgiveness happens with one and only one person---the victim, my hurting one, the victim. The one who hurt you has absolutely no role whatsoever in your forgiving him his sin. That is where so many of us stumble, fair Socrates. For some reason we feel that if we forgive, then others—including the one who hurt us—must be involved. Not so. Remember. Forgiveness is an inward not outward reality. It is from the heart.

And to forgive, we must, Socrates, as difficult as it sounds, do an act that is loathsome to our sense of self-justice. Are you listening? This is what must take place if forgiveness takes place: we must, take a knife and, rather than slit our transgressor’s throat, cut the straps that bind him to our chair, walk him to the door of our room and say to him: “You are free to go. I release you forever from this room”.

Oh my, Socrates! Hardness is such an inept description for a deed as that. But it is the right deed—if forgiveness is to take place. Indeed in Scripture, the Greek word translated so often in our English Bibles “forgiveness” carries with it the idea of “release”. It is the picture God has drawn with His own pencil on the Cross when Jesus released us from our sins. The Cross was God cutting our straps that held us, walking us to the door and saying “You are free. I release you forever from your sin”.

There is a farther step only a few can ever imagine, Socrates. I briefly speak of it and then show you your promised peek. If you would develop a Christ-like forgiving spirit as our Lord would want for you, there is another act you must perform. When once your chair is empty in your inner room, take it and cast it out leaving your room empty. Then lock the door and pass the key along to your Creator. Never hold another hostage. Never enter the room again. Never seek another key. Doing so will go a long way toward developing a perpetual forgiving spirit. All of us, Socrates, need to lock that door, lose that key and be liberated to live a forgiveness-filled life.

Now, let us imagine, once more, Socrates, you are back in your room. It is only pretend so do not be afraid. You have been here before but, hopefully, you shall never return when you see what you need to see this final time. There, in the chair, Socrates, is your captive. You have him bound. You have him ready for your unending torture. You want him to suffer as you feel he has made you suffer. You determine you shall never release him until he has paid for his crimes against you. Therefore, my friend, go to it…

Ah, but wait, my good Socrates! Wait! Come closer, my old friend, for a more definite look. Do you not see? Can you not tell? Who is that in your torture chair? Is it your transgressor who so viciously wronged you? Is not he the one who offended you? Can you not see the pools of blood all over the floor? And is that blood not his blood?

No, Socrates, I am afraid you are wrong. It is neither your sinner nor your criminal you are torturing with your unforgiveness. Socrates! It is YOU! You are the one in the chair! You are the one strapped and cursed and maimed and tortured and enslaved! Unforgiveness has made you the miserable one, O Socrates, not your enemy. Unforgiveness is painfully ruining your life not the life of your criminal! Unforgiveness is nothing more than a sort of sadistic self-infliction, which spills pints of, not the transgressor’s blood; rather, the blood belongs to you, Socrates.

Forgive…release…be free…torture yourself no longer. Follow the 7x70 rule our Lord graciously revealed. Harbor unforgiveness no longer.

I hope this journey has helped you see a little better, my friend, the true nature of forgiveness. Stay in touch. Remember our vow. We are friends forever. And being glad of it, with that, I am…

Peter

Comments

[Jim Champion]

Peter

How very Ben Franklin of you! He also asked and answered questions using several different personnas during his lifetime.

This was a good one

Jim

[selahV]

Oh Peter, now I've gotta get rid of that chair! selahV

[peter]

Jim

Thanks for stopping by, my brother. Unfortunately, I have read nothing of note by BF. It sounds like I missed a very good read.

Selahv,

I have a stash of those darn chairs.

Grace. With that, I am...

Peter

[JIm Champion]

Peter

I recommend that you read "Ben Franklin and American Life" by Walter Isaacon - it is a great read on a great American. I have been reading a few biographies lately on our founding fathers, kind of interesting to do now that it is not required of me!

[Emily Hunter McGowin]

Wow, Peter. This is a very good reflection on forgiveness. You have a skillful way with words.

Have you read Exclusion and Embrace by Miroslav Volf? I highly recommend it as a deeply moving meditation on forgiveness and reconciliation. In fact, anything Volf writes on forgiveness is great.

Have a good weekend, Peter,

Emily

[Emily Hunter McGowin]

BTW: I really like the new format. It is easier to read.

[peter]

Emily,

Thank you for the warm encouragement. Thanks also for the book suggestion. Unfortunately, as with our Jim's recommendation, neither have I read yours. Sounds refreshing.

Grace, Emily. With that,

I am...
Peter

[Luke]

Peter,

This reminded me somewhat of a little that explored our life as different rooms in a house and how we are to let Jesus into all the rooms, not just the convenient ones. I think the most powerful motivator for me, to remove that chair, is that Christ sat in my eternal chair. How could I exact from anyone, what Christ himself bore for me? I stupefy myself with my arrogance and unforgiveness besides the great internal harm I do to my spirit. We are not to forgive in order to be forgiven...rather, we forgive BECAUSE we have been forgiven. When framed that way, how reluctant ought I to be to even bring a chair into the house. Thank you for the inspiring word Peter.