The biblical account of Jesus hanging on the cross, a cruel instrument of capital punishment the Roman Empire reserved for its worst criminals, tells of two others who were being crucified beside him. One of the criminals cried out to Jesus for mercy and forgiveness. Jesus, even while in agony, assured him of forgiveness and a place in Paradise. The other criminal continued to be disbelieving and scornful up to the end.
I referred to this event in a recent conversation with a client. I asked if she thought her husband was like the criminal who repented or the one who resisted submitting to God. She was then in a difficult place. After having experienced hurt and disappointment after disappointment, she was asked once again to give her husband another chance.
How is anyone caught in such a situation to decide? What should one do when confronted with the dilemma of giving another chance or staying the hand of mercy? Is it even possibly right to withhold mercy when we ourselves have received so much from God? Is the biblical principle of forgiving “seventy-seven times ” (or in short, endlessly) what we should do regardless of the situation?
Before offering some guidelines for your reflection, let me say that this article does not offer a fool-proof way of making the right decision. I have come to realise that I am a poor discerner of whether someone is telling the truth. As a counsellor, I take the position of believing what I am told. Even when faced with inaccuracies, I seek to clarify if it is a miscommunication or to understand what might have prompted the falsehood.
My first guideline is that forgiveness may be extended when someone has asked for it. Has the person who has hurt you recognised their wrong and is asking to be forgiven? Being forgiven for an action that is not acknowledged as wrong is meaningless to the relationship, much less to the offending party.
There are some situations when one can forgive in the absence of an admission of guilt or responsibility by the other party. Examples are when it is hard to establish who is the guilty party or when that person is no longer around to answer for their actions. The hurt party then “forgives” in order to move on and let go of the hurt and the right of redress. When this is done, it is less an act of kindness to the other than being kind to yourself. It is an effort to not allow the pain or anger of what has happened consume you any further.
A second guideline is whether the admission comes with a promise not to repeat the offence again. This should preferably be done without making excuses for one’s actions or even blaming the other, for example, “I was drunk and didn’t know what I was doing” or “You kept shutting me out and I had nowhere go, no one to turn to”. In the absence of such a pledge, one can still forgive but then needs to be cautious and not put oneself in such a vulnerable position again. Basically, it is taking a position that though I forgive you, I do not trust that you will not hurt me again.
A third guiding principle if one is to remain in a close relationship with the other, besides an admission of responsibility and a promise not to repeat the offence, is the consideration of whether the person’s promise alone is sufficient. In some instances when the offensive behaviour is habitual, such as in gambling or lying, an avowal to change without a plan of how to change is not good enough.
Any good plan to change should include what to avoid (for example, deleting football gaming apps from one’s mobile phone) and what to add (such as, taking up a sport as a healthy pursuit). Another helpful feature is to practise greater accountability. This could take the form of removing passwords from one’s phone and having someone to whom one can be accountable.
As I mentioned earlier, these steps are not guaranteed signs that there is a change of heart. But they may be a way of seeing if the offending party can be trusted again. If so, perhaps the scoundrel has begun to turn over a new leaf.