Forgiveness is Hard and Necessary
Illustration
Stories
“Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” (vv. 21-22)
Patty Knapp wrote in The National Catholic Register about a woman who made the hard choice to forgive an evil tormentor from her past. Peggy Clores told Knapp about her mother, Yvette Assael, a Greek Jew, who survived the Auschwitz concentration camp. Her parents were murdered by the Nazis there.
Many years later when coming out of a bakery in London, Yvette came upon a beggar. Peggy said, “Knowing the agony of starvation well, my mother reached into the bakery bag and walked toward him. Then, all at once, she stopped 'dead in her tracks.' Her face turned white." Her husband asked her what was wrong. “Her eyes filled with tears; and, finally, resolutely, she walked over and handed the man a piece of bread.”
Yvette explained later that she recognized him as one of the Nazis in Auschwitz," She said, she “…was torn between pity for the agony of his starvation and the evil we all endured from him. I then realized that if I didn't forgive him, if I didn't somehow find the strength to forgive all of them, they would then have taken the rest of my life from me."
In his wonderful book, What's So Amazing About Grace? Philip Yancey tells of a woman named Rebecca who was married to a well-known pastor who dabbled in pornography and solicited prostitutes. Eventually the pastor divorced Rebecca and married Julianne. It was painful for this pastor's wife to suffer this great humiliation. People treated her as if it were her fault. She agonized over this deep betrayal and withdrew from others, reluctant to trust anyone. As she prayed about her situation she began to have a sense that unless she forgave him, "…a hard lump of revenge would be passed on to their children.”
Yancey writes: “One night Rebecca called her ex-husband and said, in a shaky voice, 'I want you to know that I forgive you for what you have done to me. And I forgive Julianne, too.' He laughed off her apology, unwilling to admit he had done anything wrong. Despite his rebuff, that conversation helped Rebecca get past her bitter feelings. A few years later, Rebecca got a hysterical phone call from Julianne...Her husband had been picked up for soliciting a prostitute...Julianne was sobbing. 'I never believed you,' she said. 'I kept telling myself that even if what you said was true, he had changed.... I feel so ashamed, and hurt, and guilty. I have no one on earth who can understand. Then I remembered the night when you said you forgave us. I thought maybe you could understand what I am going through. It's a terrible thing to ask, I know, but could I come talk to you?' Somehow Rebecca found the courage to invite Julianne over that same evening. They sat in her living room, cried together, shared stories of betrayal, and in the end prayed together. Julianne now points to that night as the time when she became a Christian."
Forgiveness is hard and necessary. Letting go of the hurt and trauma, and yes, the evil we have suffered at the hands of another, is more about our own wellbeing than that of the one who caused us harm. Richard Rohr writes, “Letting go is different than denying or repressing. To let go of it, you have to admit it. You have to own it… Letting go means that the denied, repressed, rejected parts of myself are seen for what they are. You see it and you hand it over to God. You hand it over to history. You refuse to let the negative storyline that you’ve wrapped yourself around define your life.”
*****************************************
StoryShare, September 17, 2023 issue.
Copyright 2023 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
Patty Knapp wrote in The National Catholic Register about a woman who made the hard choice to forgive an evil tormentor from her past. Peggy Clores told Knapp about her mother, Yvette Assael, a Greek Jew, who survived the Auschwitz concentration camp. Her parents were murdered by the Nazis there.
Many years later when coming out of a bakery in London, Yvette came upon a beggar. Peggy said, “Knowing the agony of starvation well, my mother reached into the bakery bag and walked toward him. Then, all at once, she stopped 'dead in her tracks.' Her face turned white." Her husband asked her what was wrong. “Her eyes filled with tears; and, finally, resolutely, she walked over and handed the man a piece of bread.”
Yvette explained later that she recognized him as one of the Nazis in Auschwitz," She said, she “…was torn between pity for the agony of his starvation and the evil we all endured from him. I then realized that if I didn't forgive him, if I didn't somehow find the strength to forgive all of them, they would then have taken the rest of my life from me."
In his wonderful book, What's So Amazing About Grace? Philip Yancey tells of a woman named Rebecca who was married to a well-known pastor who dabbled in pornography and solicited prostitutes. Eventually the pastor divorced Rebecca and married Julianne. It was painful for this pastor's wife to suffer this great humiliation. People treated her as if it were her fault. She agonized over this deep betrayal and withdrew from others, reluctant to trust anyone. As she prayed about her situation she began to have a sense that unless she forgave him, "…a hard lump of revenge would be passed on to their children.”
Yancey writes: “One night Rebecca called her ex-husband and said, in a shaky voice, 'I want you to know that I forgive you for what you have done to me. And I forgive Julianne, too.' He laughed off her apology, unwilling to admit he had done anything wrong. Despite his rebuff, that conversation helped Rebecca get past her bitter feelings. A few years later, Rebecca got a hysterical phone call from Julianne...Her husband had been picked up for soliciting a prostitute...Julianne was sobbing. 'I never believed you,' she said. 'I kept telling myself that even if what you said was true, he had changed.... I feel so ashamed, and hurt, and guilty. I have no one on earth who can understand. Then I remembered the night when you said you forgave us. I thought maybe you could understand what I am going through. It's a terrible thing to ask, I know, but could I come talk to you?' Somehow Rebecca found the courage to invite Julianne over that same evening. They sat in her living room, cried together, shared stories of betrayal, and in the end prayed together. Julianne now points to that night as the time when she became a Christian."
Forgiveness is hard and necessary. Letting go of the hurt and trauma, and yes, the evil we have suffered at the hands of another, is more about our own wellbeing than that of the one who caused us harm. Richard Rohr writes, “Letting go is different than denying or repressing. To let go of it, you have to admit it. You have to own it… Letting go means that the denied, repressed, rejected parts of myself are seen for what they are. You see it and you hand it over to God. You hand it over to history. You refuse to let the negative storyline that you’ve wrapped yourself around define your life.”
*****************************************
StoryShare, September 17, 2023 issue.
Copyright 2023 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.

