Forgiving the Unforgivable

How do you forgive the unforgivable? Someone murders a family member. A drunk driver slams into your car, and you’re in a wheelchair the rest of your life. A trusted friend molests your child. A member of your church who works as an investment counselor persuades you to put your life savings in his hands, and he loses it all. One of your best friends spreads rumors (all untrue) about you that result in your being ostracized by all your other friends. 

You could pick any one of the above, and call it "unforgivable." And sadly most of have personal scenarios that are equally grievous. How could you possibly forgive a person who has done any of these? How can you forgive the unforgivable?

Freed From A Curse

In fairy tales, evil witches put people under a curse. Think Sleeping Beauty or Snow White. But the Bible speaks plainly of a curse that cannot be undone by Prince Charming. 

Here’s the text in the Epistle to the Galatians: even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed (v. 8). And in the very next verse he said it again: If anyone is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, let him be accursed (v. 9, emphasis added)

The Greek word “accursed” is anathema - delivered over to divine wrath. Anyone who distorts the gospel of Christ is under a curse. From whom? From Almighty God.

Sounds a little harsh, doesn’t it?

Grumpy Old Man

I just had a birthday, and I emailed a good friend to say that like fine wine, I’m slowly going sour.

I was trying to be funny. I don’t know anything about wine, fine or otherwise, but I do know about going sour. And I don’t want to go that way.

As people age, some seem to get increasingly grumpy and angry and bitter, and decreasingly kind and patient and loving. Some older folks even seem to think their sourness is an entitlement. They’ve put in all those years of being nice, and now they can tell the world to jump off a cliff.

But I’ve also known my share of older folks who seem to get sweeter as they age. They have more patience and kindness, less desire to sweat the small stuff, and more joy in the Savior. They’re a pleasure to be around. That’s the kind of person I want to become.

How do you get there? Because each birthday gives you plenty of reasons to groan and complain. More wrinkles, less hair. More aches and pains, less energy. So what keeps you from getting sour, and instead makes you sweeter?

Forgive me for being simplistic, but I think the only answer is Jesus. As in all things, everything begins and ends with Him. If you and I want to age with grace, we need to keep pursuing the God of all grace. And like Paul said, we better forget the past and keep pressing toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called us heavenward in Christ Jesus (see Philippians 3:13-14).

I never want to be one of those people whose spiritual life peaked twenty years ago, and who never have any fresh insights from God’s word or new experiences of joy from the Savior. I don’t want to have any laurels to rest on, but I want to keep resting in Christ.

For the rest of my life I want to major in Bible, worship and prayer, witness and service, and not take any more classes in What's Owed to Me, or Why Life's Not Fair. And whenever God calls me home, I want to feel like a kid who gets let out of school early, so he can run all the way home to be with his Dad. 

God, make me sweet like Jesus, my sweetest, dearest,  and loveliest Lord.

Thank You for Your Contribution!

I was once asked to share the gospel at a gathering of people mostly unknown to me. The Christians who invited me wanted their unchurched friends and family who were attending to hear about Jesus.

Well, I did my best. I love talking about Jesus, and I spoke as plainly and as winsomely as I know how. I’m sure some in the audience appreciated my talk, but it was just as obvious that others wished there had been a trap door under my feet, and that they could have sprung it.

After it was all over, a woman who clearly didn’t like my presentation, said rather condescendingly, “Thank you for your contribution.” As lame and inappropriate and ridiculous as it was, I think she meant to add.

I could see her point. Even our best efforts to serve the Lord or speak up for Him aren’t much in the end. We're kidding ourselves if we think our great abilities, wisdom, eloquence, or giftedness make the difference.

Jesus is the one who does the miracles. He uses us from time to time, but we should never imagine it's because our "contribution" is so special.

• He can take a child's brown-bag lunch and feed a multitude of people. 
• Fill jars with plain old water, and He can transform them into the finest wine anyone has ever tasted.
• Dirt on the ground mixed with His own spit can make mud that restores a man's eyesight (John 9:6f).
• One touch from His hand and leprosy is cleansed.
• One word from His mouth and the dead are raised.

An old story from Harry Ironside makes the point:  an older Christian gave his testimony about how, by His sovereign grace, the Lord had loved and called him, saved and cleansed him. Later a rather legalistic brother took him aside and criticized his talk. "I appreciated all you said about what God did for you. But you didn't mention anything about your part in it. Salvation is really part us and part God. You should have mentioned something about your part."

"Oh, yes," the older Christian said. "I apologize for that. I'm sorry. I really should have said something about my part. My part was running away, and his part was running after me until he caught me" (from James Boice's The Doctrines of Grace).

Thank you for your contribution. But Jesus is the One who makes the difference!