When Not to Forgive

More than difficult, it may be foolish to attempt to forgive someone who denies having wronged you. Why should the sole responsibility for process of forgiveness rest alone on your shoulders? Taking full responsibility, as if it is only your problem, merely adds weight to the already heavy burden of having been wronged in the first place.

Forgiveness is possible for your and the other person’s sake only in a quid-pro-quo or “you do, I do” context. It is not a strictly one-sided action, but a two-sided working out of prior wrongdoing. The one forgiven has to do something, just like the one doing the forgiving.

To be able to forgive another, the wrongdoer must evidence recognition of wrongdoing, regret for the deed and the pain it caused, and desire to repent from doing it again. To forgive another without these conditions being met might prompt the one forgiven to further wrongdoing. After all, they got away with it before.

I remember several years ago when a parishioner talked to me after I gave a sermon on forgiveness. She said, “I really want to forgive, but I am having difficulty forgiving my former employers. So I am carrying around a lot of pain and anger. Could I come in and discuss the situation with you?” I said yes and we set up a meeting for the next week.

When she told me her woeful tale, my immediate response was: “This is not a situation where forgiveness is either possible or appropriate. This is a situation where you need to take your former employers to court!” It seemed a clear cut case of sexual harassment and discrimination, which cost this woman thousands of dollars, her career, and produced plaguing stress, trauma and grief.

I told her to go and talk with a particular lawyer in Des Moines who specialized in cases such as hers. Fortunately for her, she did as I requested. Due to this woman’s psychiatrist not being available, I ended up being her major witness, speaking as her counselor as well as her pastor.

I remember being on the witness stand, and the sight of the three men she was suing. When her lawyer raised the question of forgiveness, I looked right at the men and waving my left arm toward them, I said, “This is not a time for forgiveness, but for justice. These men clearly remain in the wrong; they have not recognized, regretted or repented from their misdeeds. They have not attempted to make restitution, let alone sought forgiveness.”

This woman won the suit. The jury granted her an astounding 4.9-million-dollar settlement, the largest of its kind in the United States up to that point. This enabled her to reverse impending bankruptcy, pay off a host of debts and send her son to college.

During lunch after the trial, I asked her about forgiveness. She said that now at last she could begin to let go of her pain and anger. Now she could move on with her life, with a comforting sense of having reclaimed her integrity and wholeness. Her sense of being violated had largely been cleansed and healed. She had done what was right and necessary for her own well-being, and that of her family.

Forgiveness now meant letting go of what had happened. Justice having been served, she said she could even begin to pray that these men would eventually turn their lives around, get right with God and whoever else they may have wronged.