Do you agree, Herder, that this type of forgiveness would include two acts of love: (a) keeping no record of wrongs, and (b) trusting the person (for example, restoring a relationship)?
OK, for now, here is a practical example. Yesterday a guy stole my car. It was parked in my driveway. He hooked the keys off my kitchen table through the locked grill gate, fled with the keys and my car.
I have several options here and my decision to some extent depends on the context in which this event took place. (And yes, I am very very angry.)
The option I have taken is to forgive. Why? I can get another car: it was insured. I will suffer inconvenience, but police and trackers have helped.
The principal reason I have decided to forgive is that poverty in SA causes most theft. It is cold now. Unemployment is high. People have no food or blankets, many are ill with HIV, they have children but money. My car represents a fortune to its new owner. It will feed, clothe, educate and keep a family warm for a few months. I call it '
radical redistribution of wealth. It is not something that I choose to do. But it has the same effect.
I have no way of knowing whether the guy is repentant. I do know that he is a lot better off than young men who are determined not to steal, and sell newspapers etc on street corners to those driving Audis, Mercedes and BMWs. So I assume this guy, having chosen to steal, is in no way repentant. And I ask myself whether he should be.
Radical redistribution of wealth.
Here is a more practical problem. I have been in an abusive relationship with a colleague and one-time beloved friend. I have tried to get closure because of the damage to both of us spiritually, mentally and professionally. He has refused: stonewalled. Where am I left? I cannot go poof!: it damaged my life too much. I cannot forget, because it ate four years of my life. But if I do not forgive, it will eat away at anything that is good in me, at my perspective on the world and other people.
I could can employ ‘just cause’: but I know I am not blameless. There were perhaps other actions I could or should have taken. But on the whole, I was right to be very angry and hurt.
That however gets me nowhere. It is a hiding to nothing. Bitterness makes a meagre feast. To right oneself, to move back to a stable and relatively happy dailiness, forgiveness was necessary. I could not know if he would, could, or did reprent. The odd thing was that ultimately I did not care.
What I finally accomplished after beating myself over the head with a croquet mallet for a long time, was to forgive. To say this has happened; this is the way I have reacted to a crisis situation; this is the way he has reacted to a crisis situation. It happened. Life is hard, and then you die. No one ever said life would be jolly. Where can one go from here but into forgiveness?
So no, I do not think that repentance is a necessary condition of forgiveness. Who are we as Christians to judge another (Judge not that ye be not judged) when we ourselves are so flawed? (Remember the log in your eye.) Who are we to expect repentance when it is sometimes so hard for us to repent when we believe that we have been right?
And for goodness sake, no, there is no point in keeping a record of grievances. Christ forgave on the cross. Forgive seven times seven, turn the other cheek, do unto others, but do not count the cost.
Do you think this type of forgiveness is possible if the person you or I want to forgive in this way refuses to repent?
You talk about trust, and you ask this question. They are both fair and tough issues. I guess the answer depends on how fair and tough we are as individuals and as Christians.
Unhappily, I think it is exceedingly hard to re-establish a sense of complete trust, even when there has been complete forgiveness in Luke’s sense.
For myself, my belief and the scriptures tell me that forgiveness is paramount if I am truly a daily Christian. On the other hand, is it possible to trust that person ever again in the same way as I might have before? For me, the answer has been generally ‘no’. The inability to trust, despite the forgiveness, is a profound and constant sorrow.
I do not have a scriptural text here, and would be grateful if anyone could supply it.
Hope this helps!