The earth is the LORD'S, and everything in it. The world and all its people belong to him. Psalm 24: 1

Stone and Stingless Bees

            Forgiveness. What does it look like? What does it feel like? I've imagined it to be like a soft summer day with a field of daisies through which to smile and skip (in slow motion, of course, just like in the movies) while wearing flowing white clothes. Birdsong as soundtrack, or soundtrack as soundtrack, a music lilting and transportive. Colorful butterflies are flitting and kittens are chasing them, and yes, there are bees buzzing, pollinating, and making honey, but they don't sting. Stingless bees. Honey without the sting. Utopia. Paradise. Something like that. That's what forgiveness looks and feels like, right?

            But what if I don't feel like that? What if I've said, "I forgive you," either in person or in my heart, whichever the situation calls for, and even though I truly meant it, I still don't feel like I'm skipping through daisies? And what about that person who has wronged or hurt me and isn't sorry? Or worse yet, even feels justified in his or her actions? How should I feel about that person?

If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins (Matthew 6: 14-15).

I don't see any "if those who've sinned against you express remorse and/or ask for forgiveness, then forgive them" clause in there. So. I'm called to forgive. Even those people. But should genuine forgiveness feel like paradise? If it doesn't, does it mean I haven't really forgiven?

            What did Jesus' forgiveness look like? Did it look like paradise from His point of view?

As the time drew near for him to ascend to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem (Luke 9:51).

According to dictionary.com "resolutely" means, "1. firmly resolved or determined; set in purpose or opinion.  2. characterized by firmness and determination, as the temper, spirit, actions, etc." Doesn't sound much like skipping through paradise, huh? And those pre-dawn hours in the Garden of Gethsemane, what did those look like? I think we all remember that time as something far short of paradise for Him.

            Hundreds of years before Jesus came, the prophet Isaiah, speaking in the voice of the coming Messiah, put it this way:

Because the Sovereign Lord helps me,
    I will not be disgraced.
Therefore, I have set my face like a stone,
    determined to do his will.
    And I know that I will not be put to shame.  (Isaiah 50:7)

            "Resolutely." "Like a stone." Like a Mt. Rushmore, the unchanging faces carved there. . . .

            I've learned that forgiveness is not always the paradise I've believed it should be. That was an expectation on my part that was as unrealistic as stingless bees. Forgiveness is not a feeling. Forgiveness is a choice, a matter of obedience, something we must determine to do. Often, it isn't easy. It's serious business that, depending on the seriousness of the offense, can require an act (or multiple acts) of will, of setting one's "face like a stone" toward our own Jerusalems, our own crosses. Mt. Rushmores of forgiveness, that's who we're supposed to be.

            Sometimes our feelings follow after our obedience. Sometimes they don't.  But, then, finding a stingless paradise isn't really the point.

Daye Phillippo

August 2015