Can anyone truly forgive and forget? Should they?
We’ve been pushed this wisdom since grade school, but I’m increasingly skeptical.
For I may choose to let something go, but I struggle to completely put it out of my mind. Bring up someone in conversation and it doesn’t take me long to recall a slight or misstep, especially if they aren’t particularly close to me. Personal affronts have a way of lingering. Sometimes they even seem to sting all over again when the memory resurfaces.
Perhaps though, forgetting isn’t actually the goal.
After all, there is nothing particularly noble about forgetting an offense you can no longer remember or were unaware of. Christian forgiveness isn’t ignorance. It isn’t pretending something never happened. If anything, forgetting stops short of what we are actually called to do: remember and choose grace anyway.
This is the love we see demonstrated by Christ. For He did not go to the cross unaware of what we would become. He knew every denial, selfish decision, and act of rebellion that would follow, yet He went anyway. His forgiveness wasn’t out of ignorance, but love. He knew exactly what he was paying for.
Such was the way with Stephen in our verse today. He wasn’t dealing with a minor insult or an awkward conversation, but being dragged outside the city and executed for his faith. He was acutely aware of what was happening yet asked God not to hold it against them.
“And as they were stoning Stephen, he called out, “Lord Jesus receive my spirit.” And falling to his knees he cried out with a loud voice, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”....”
Here he is being killed for his faith and his final words are two parts. First, a petition for the Lord to receive his spirit. Then, a request for God to forgive the very men who were murdering him. Note that his prayer wasn’t that they would stop or that God would judge them, rather that they might be forgiven.
It is difficult to imagine a more Christlike response.
Meanwhile, I find myself struggling in far lower stakes scenarios. A harsh comment, overlooked invitation, or perceived slight and I am far less concerned with extending grace than ensuring some measure of justice is served. Seeking accountability for these transgressions.
Yet, Stephen remembered exactly what they had done. He simply refused to hold it against them.
This reminds me of another story Jesus told: A king decided to settle his accounts and called before him a servant with such an unimaginable debt that repayment was impossible. The servant begged for mercy, and the king surprisingly chose to forgive the entire amount. Yet, moments later that same servant found someone who owed him a comparatively trivial amount and had him thrown in prison for failing to pay. When the king heard what happened, his response was swift:
“Then his master summoned him and said, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave all that debt because you pleaded with me. And you could not have mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?’”
Perhaps selective memory is the real problem.
For like the servant, I readily remember what others ‘owe’ me, while forgetting what I have been forgiven.
Maybe we forgive best when we remember.