Forgiveness

The main thing we learn from a serious attempt to practise the Christian virtues is that we fail.

Mere Christianity, C. S. Lewis

Lewis moves to a section where he expands on the Christian virtues: faith, hope, and love. For some reason he writes of these in reverse order, so I will do the same – perhaps in my writing I can better understand the reason why he has done this and, perhaps, better understand the virtues.

He begins with love, or charity. But even here, Lewis begins with a subset of charity – and that is forgiveness. This is, perhaps after chastity, one of the most unpopular virtues to come out of Christianity. We are to love our neighbor and love our enemy. This means we are to forgive them. Not very popular.

Every one says that forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive.

As he often does, Lewis points to the virtues found in war or examples from the Second World War. How would you feel about forgiving the Gestapo if you were a Pole or a Jew? Lewis isn’t sure how he would feel, and wonders about this. Same for me. Yet, the command is right there: we are to forgive, even our enemy.

Not knowing what I would do in such a situation doesn’t change what I ought to do: Christianity teaches us to forgive, seventy times seven, and to forgive even our enemies.

Lewis then cites from the Lord’s Prayer:

‘Forgive us our sins as we forgive those that sin against us.’

Lewis understands this verse thus:

There is no slightest suggestion that we are offered forgiveness on any other terms. It is made perfectly clear that if we do not forgive, we shall not be forgiven. There are no two ways about it.

Well…yes there are. This verse is found in the Lord’s Prayer, which is right in the middle of the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus gave this Sermon, not as a bunch of randomly put together statements but as a whole, with one step leading to the next. The first step:

Matthew 5: 3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

The kingdom of heaven belongs to those who are poor in spirit – to those who know that there is nothing for them to draw from themselves, no hope at all without God (see here for my examination of this first beatitude). Understanding that we are poor in spirit is the opening to the kingdom of heaven.

Of course, our Christian journey does not end here. From this first beatitude, Jesus offers us an ever more challenging path for growth. And the verse about forgiveness comes well into this path. Lloyd-Jones expresses precisely why Lewis’s understanding of this verse has it exactly backwards:

“I say to the glory of God and in utter humility, that whenever I see myself before God and realize even something of what my blessed Lord has done for me, I am ready to forgive anybody anything. I cannot withhold it. I do not even want to withhold it. …True forgiveness breaks a man, and he must forgive.”

Only when I have matured meaningfully in Christ am I able to forgive as Jesus commands – it is because God has forgiven me, and because I fully grasp what that means in my life, that I can forgive even my enemy. Jesus didn’t place this prayer at the beginning of the Sermon, after all.

In any case, God’s forgiveness is not conditional on my living a perfect life. This idea is nothing but a turn to works-righteousness, and there is no room for this in the Christian faith.

Yes, and to dissuade you from the notion that I see no place for works in the Christian faith and the idea of salvation, I will offer a quote from Martin Luther, who sums up best my current view on faith and works:

Works are necessary to salvation, but they do not cause salvation, because faith alone gives life.

Returning to Lewis: yes, forgiving the Gestapo is hard; so, don’t start there (an idea similar to what I have presented above – step by step through the Beatitudes, well before getting to the forgiveness part. Start with your spouse, your children, your siblings. There are plenty of opportunities to grow in this virtue just within this close circle.

Christianity does not want us to reduce by one atom the hatred we feel for cruelty and treachery.

But then he comes to someone even more fundamental: ourself. When we find ourselves fallen in such a manner, are we able to separate the man from the sin? Can I do this in myself? Admittedly, it remains quite a struggle for me – hence, it will remain a struggle for me to forgive others.

I admit that this means loving people who have nothing lovable about them. But then, has oneself anything lovable about it?

Conclusion

Lewis writes as if it is natural that we love ourselves regardless. I am not so sure, as I live daily with my own example. Yet, God has forgiven me – and paid a great price to do so; therefore, who am I to hold guilt over my head? A sign of pride, I think.

Perhaps it makes it easier if we remember that that is how He loves us. Not for any nice, attractive qualities we think we have, but just because we are the things called selves.

While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us…. Greater love has no man than this…

That’s forgiveness.