Forgiveness of Injuries 3

III. I shall now consider the indispensable necessity of our exercising this disposition of forgiveness. This duty cannot be placed among the non-essentials of religion; as that without which a man may be a real, though an incomplete Christian. It is not to be ranked among those matters about which good men may differ, and be nearly as good, which ever side they take. Nor is it to be viewed as merely a graceful and ornamental appendage to religion, a sort of tasteful decoration of character, which a few fine spirits, men made of softer clay or cast in a more ornamental mold, may wear; but which can very well be done without. Nothing like it. Reader whoever you are whose eye passes over these pages, here pause and ponder the truth, which I now lay down, for it is such—you are not a Christian, you never can be one, you are not in the way to heaven, but on the road to perdition, your trespasses are not forgiven you, but are all upon you at this moment—if you are habitually an unforgiving man. This is a solemn fact, which, with dark and frowning aspect now stares you in the face. A voice from the unseen world uttered in thunder could not make it more certain. Take the following evidences of this fact.

1. Forgiveness is positively commanded in holy Scripture. How frequently, how solemnly, and how authoritatively is this duty enforced by our Lord himself! Read with devout and fixed attention the following passages, "For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses,"—the same thing is repeated in four other places in the gospel. "And be kind one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake has forgiven you." "Forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any; even as Christ forgave you, so also do you." "Confess your faults one to another." Remember this is law, not merely advice—a command, not only counsel—as truly law, as that which requires honesty or chastity; so that a man who is unforgiving, is as truly a rebel against Christ, as he who does not pray, or he who is a whoremonger, or an adulterer.

If Christ is our Master, and we are bound to obey Him in everyything—and in this among the rest. If we cannot forgive, we cannot be disciples of Christ. We resist His authority; we cast off His yoke; we trample under feet His commands. We tell Him in effect He has passed a law which we cannot—or will not, obey. We cannot plead ignorance either of the existence or of the meaning of this law. Here it is laid down as the rule of our conduct. A child can comprehend it; nothing can be more unmistakable. The command lies upon the very surface of Christianity, and the meaning lies upon the surface of the law. Is not forgiveness necessary? Can we even pretend to be Christians without it?

2. It is not only a command of the Christian religion—but it is one of the commands which peculiarly belong to it, as in a very extraordinary manner appertaining to it. Paganism knows nothing about it. Revenge has ever been its spirit in all forms and all ages. No wonder, its deities have usually been impersonations either of lust or cruelty; its orgies have been blood, and its litany groans. To Judaism it was not unknown, but, like the doctrine of a future state, was far less clearly revealed than it is under the Christian dispensation. That bright economy which has revealed so clearly God's forgiving love, through the atonement of Christ, has also as clearly revealed our duty to forgive one another, as God has for Christ's sake forgiven us. The 'olive branch of forgiveness' is suspended from the cross. Like the duty of loving one another, the duty of forgiveness is especially Christ's commandment, for the latter is included in the former. So that we may say of this, as well as of love, "By this shall all men know you are Christ's disciples—if you forgive one another." Christ will not own us as disciples if we do not forgive. He in effect says, "Look at that man who cannot forgive—is he like me? Does he bear my image? Does he carry about my mind? Does he breathe my spirit? No! Let all men therefore know that though he bears my name—I disown him. He bears false witness against me. He misrepresents me—he is a living slander, a foul calumny upon me; and is at the same time a traducer of my religion. If men believe that I am like him, as his profession assumes, they will, they must conclude, that I am instead of a Savior a destroyer—instead of an incarnation of mercy an impersonation of revenge. Believe him not, when he says he is a Christian—for no habitually unforgiving man can be one."

3. Forgiveness of others, is a condition of our own forgiveness from God. When I say condition, I do not of course mean a meritorious one, but that state of mind without which he cannot be forgiven, the evidence and demonstration of our pardon. It is a condition in the same sense, though not for the same purpose, as faith is, and is as necessary. There is no merit in either, but both are required as indispensable. Yes, for one is included in the other, for the faith which believes the doctrine of forgiveness by God; believes also the duty of forgiveness towards others. A true faith works by love; and a true love works by forgiveness. Nothing can be more explicit than our Lord's words, "If you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."

This is again repeated with still greater emphasis where the beautiful parable of the merciless creditor who was forgiven ten thousand talents, and yet could not forgive a hundred pence, is delivered to enjoin this duty, and which closes with the declaration, "Then, after he had summoned him, his master said to him, 'You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Shouldn't you also have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you? And his master got angry and handed him over to the jailers until he could pay everything that was owed. So My heavenly Father will also do to you if each of you does not forgive his brother from his heart!" How can this be evaded? By what logic of even our deceitful hearts can this be answered? None can be so blind, so utterly ignorant of the nature of religion, or the prerequisites to salvation, as to imagine he can be forgiven—while continuing to live in lying, stealing, or adultery; and yet it is as certain that he can be saved while indulging in these sins, as while living in the habitual indulgence of an inexorable, malicious, and unforgiving disposition! Can a man he saved without love? Let the apostle answer this by his language in the thirteenth chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians, where he tells us that neither the power of miracles, nor the eloquence of angels, nor the most diffusive almsgiving, nor even the sufferings of martyrdom, can be a substitute for love. "Love is patient; love is kind. Love does not envy; is not boastful; is not conceited; does not act improperly; is not selfish; is not provoked; does not keep a record of wrongs; finds no joy in unrighteousness, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

There must, whatever men may imagine, be the absence of faith where there is the absence of love; for love is the natural and necessary fruit of faith. Is it possible for any man really to believe that he has sinned against God ten thousand times, and that God has fully and freely forgiven him all; is it possible he should have gone with a broken heart to the cross, groaning under the burden of his guilt, and heard the voice of redeeming mercy say to him, "Go in peace, your faith has saved you, your sins are all forgiven you!" and while rejoicing with gratitude and love in a sense of God's pardoning grace—refuse to extend the mercy to a fellow creature who has not sinned a millionth part as much towards him as he has towards God? Incredible! Impossible! How can an unforgiving man put up the petition to God, "Forgive me my sins—as I forgive those who sin against me." Does he understand, does he consider what in reality in such a case is his prayer? "O God, enter into judgment with me, and be extreme to mark all my offences. Blot out none of my sins, but deal with me according to my transgressions. Let me never know a sense of your pardoning love, but let your arrows stick fast within me, and the poison thereof drink up my spirit. Banish me from your life-giving presence, and consign me to the regions of hopeless despair, and let me pass through eternity under a sense of committed and unremitted sin!"

You tremble at the very idea, it makes your blood curdle, and sends a chill of horror through your frame—to think of a sinner thus petitioning for damnation. But what else, or what less, is the petition, "Forgive me my sins—even as I forgive the sins of others," in the lips of an unforgiving man? His forgiveness is revenge. I put the case thus strongly, because it cannot be put too strongly! I put the case thus strongly, with the hope of rousing attention! I put the case thus strongly, for I am persuaded multitudes are deceiving themselves! To them I say—the gates of heaven are closed, barred, and bolted against the man who refuses to forgive his brother! They would as soon fly open at the approach and knock of a continual swearer or a fornicator—as at the application of a man who has no mercy in his soul.

Next Part Forgiveness of Injuries 4

Back to John Angell James