Concerning Forgiveness

You rarely see me writing articles to save under the Reflections category. It is not because I think them unuseful. Instead I decided that there were a great many writers publishing those kinds of pieces. I wanted to do something else, something that was more outwardly addressing the on-going demise of our culture. I have believed for a long time that we ought to be offering Biblically based solutions to the crumbling society we walk in day by day.

Yet, occasionally, the pressing circumstances, the emotion of a particular moment, does either cast me down or raise up my soul, in a way that must be recorded. I have to remember. These vapors, these raging, rising, ingracious, reheartening, or perhaps glorious, moments in our travels, mark us, make us, overwhelm and demand they not be forgotten. It is the work of the troubadour. The lyrics are embossed in ink, and the music flutters its highs and lows through the artistry of the text. It is a rude mimicry perhaps, but useful none-the-less. The historian and the poet walk together for a moment. They weep, they sing, they fall on bended knees, and then they part, traversing lonely ground to their ancestral homes.

I met a man with soft hands. He was wealthy, growing like a luxuriant tree in its native soil. We made an oath. We contracted for work. That covenant was unmistakable in its terms. The benefits and obligations were carefully defined. As for my part, I labored as diligently as my Christian character and 40 years experience in my trade allowed. This is not to claim idealism for myself for I am a sinner many times over, yet repentant. God has been gracious to me a sinner. He has not extended this grace to every man, hence the term grace, but He has extended it to me.

I am a builder, a carpenter by trade, and a businessman by necessity. I organize men and set them to the making of things new, fastened to the old. They wield tools and wits, and sweat, to accomplish the work they are given. They also are imperfect, but, in most cases forgiven. I would call them good men, although Jesus taught that no man is good. Hence, either the word is instatic or I am wrong. Still, I would call them good. These men advanced the work according to accepted trade practices and the law of the land. Here is where the raging began.

For you see, though forced by encoded regulations these men whom I directed, brought rage and furious anger upon us all for their supposed (seemingly without consequence) indiscretion. Obedience to the law brought forth unforgivable anger. With clenched teeth and unyielding fury I was informed there was no forgiveness for such infraction. Laws of both men and God counted for nothing, for he was a law unto himself (by which he will be judged). This man, this neighbor? with whom I shared an oath would give no quarter, and accept nothing that might heal the feigned wound. And, so the oath was broken, and a payment left unpaid.

I read, Do not resist him who is evil; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn to him the other also. And, if anyone wants to sue you, and take your shirt, let him have your coat as well. …I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you…

There it is then. Love your enemies and pray for them. Now, upon reading I first find that the clenched teeth are my own. I will not forgive, for that offender, that thief, is wrong, and nastily wicked. My own raging surpasses his as my heart overflows with its sense of right. But, that inScripturated word returns. The passions of our souls are many. They strengthen and wane and run before us. A man and his soul are irreducible. Am I right but my soul is wrong? Not so. For, the man is rewarded and the man is judged, body and soul together. No blame then for the errant soul of a good man. No man is good, but only God. And, with the eyes of faith, that only a good God gives, I return to that Word. There I see, Love your enemies. With this my heart is transformed, perhaps at a single glance, perhaps in the meditations of the night, but my heart is changed.

How may a man live righteously in this world? We plan, we labor, we strive against the natural forces which ebb our strength. Sin crouches at the door. The heat of the day and the passions of the moment frustrate our consecrations and our resolve. Without faith we gaze across a waterless place where a multitude rides against us. Your people spoke of this when, under Your king Jehoshaphat, the armies were gathered to destroy them. Speaking of that invincible foe they asserted rightly …nor do we know what to do, but our eyes are on Thee. So it is. I also, do not know what to do, but my eyes are on Thee. It is enough.

For Christian Culture,

Don Schanzenbach