It never ceases to amaze me what the power of forgiveness will do. It is even more amazing what happens when we not only forgive, but actively pursue restoration through that forgiveness. Even as a child, I loved stories of people who didn’t let bitterness cripple them, but rather chose to extend unmerited mercy, grace, and support to those whom they forgave. I remember in about fifth grade listening with rapt attention to the story of Corrie ten Boom forgiving the concentration camp guard who mocked her and her sister while they were supposed to stand naked in line for the showers. The man was later saved and asked Corrie to forgive him…she said it was the hardest, yet most liberating thing she’d ever done. The longer I live, and nearly twenty four years is not necessarily that long, the more I have come to see and marvel at the wonder of forgiveness.
Last night I had three different conversations, and in each of them the common theme was forgiveness tied to love. It got me thinking and reminded me of a conversation I had with a dear friend awhile back. I was in one of my fluxes all worked up about someone and crying over it all. My friend was gracious enough to tell me, “Sister, [the person you’re so concerned about] has been forgiven much, thus she has the capacity to love in an amazing way. Do you think for a minute God would bring her all this way just to leave her? Of course not!” Not only did that stop my crying and calm me down for one thing, but it really got me thinking. That idea of God using those who had been forgiven much to love others in a special way….My brain was whirling. It made complete sense, but I’d never seen the connection that clearly before…
I was reminded of it all again last night. I had received an email from someone who extended forgiveness to me when I was in one of my most unlovable times. It made me smile and reminded me of Luke 7:47: “Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.” In this story, Jesus is speaking of a woman who came and poured oil on His feet and wiped them with her hair as a sign of her love for Him. The woman of course, was the social outcast. A prostitute who had whored herself to any man who passed by. It is likely this was even still obvious by the clothes she wore. Imagine—a prostitute walked into the dinner party of a Pharisee! The looks, the whispers, the glares, must have been nearly unbearable. But she knew Jesus had forgiven her. Out of His great love for her, He would take her place. He was going to die for the sins she had committed. Yes, she had sinned greatly. He didn’t smooth over that reality. He didn’t excuse anything. But what Jesus told the condemning crowd was “her many sins are forgiven—for she loved much.” This woman loved Jesus much! She loved Him so much she was willing to suffer through the looks, the gestures, the stares, and the rejection to run and anoint His feet. It was the greatest outward expression of her transformed heart.
The next clause in the verse is frightening: “But he who has been forgiven little, loves little.” Jesus is giving the reality that love and forgiveness are inner-twined. For fallen humanity, one can rarely—albeit maybe never really experience one without the other. You see this on all levels of relationships. Even if the words “please forgive me” are never actually used between the two parties, at some point, each will sin against the other. It can be as simple as two children playing on a playground and having to work things out between themselves. There is give and take, yes, but there’s also acceptance and forgiveness if the relationship carries on for very long. True unconditional love is a forgiving and accepting love. The group Jesus was rebuking in that story was the religious hot-heads of the day. The people who thought they had little, or nothing to be forgiven of. They had it all right. They knew all the answers. Religion was a perfect system of dos and don’ts which all made perfect sense to them. Anyone outside that box was a religious whore who deserved nothing more than to be rejected and scorned. They were some of the most unloving people of their day. They thought they had little to be forgiven and thus they loved very, very, little.
I don’t want to be someone who loves little. I don’t want to be someone who assumes I have little to be forgiven of. Oh when I look around and compare my life to those around me its easy to say, “I don’t have much to be forgiven of.” But people comparison should never be the way I determine my need for forgiveness. When I look at God Himself and what He has forgiven me, I know I have been forgiven much. This in turn should elicit a chain reaction: great forgiveness eliciting great love.
