Debt free

After WWII ended, Corrie ten Boom continued to help people who had been affected by their experiences in the concentration camps – Jews, Resistance workers, Dutch sympathizers and even former German soldiers.  Eventually one of the men who came up to speak to her after a presentation was one of her guards, one of her jailers from the Ravensbruck concentration camp.  The man said, “How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein.  To think that, as you say, He has washed my sins away!” and then he held out his hand to her.  Corrie stood there looking at his outstretched hand.

Most of us are big fans of forgiveness when it comes to our own sins.  We’ll gladly agree that Christians should forgive.  That’s easy to do when we’re talking about a generic, nameless, faceless “sinner”.  But what about when the person who offended you – who sinned against you –  is standing right before you?  Is forgiveness for them?  Do you really want them to be forgiven?

Look at the prophet Jonah.  God told him to warn the people of Ninevah to repent so God wouldn’t have to punish them for their sins. He wanted to be merciful.  And Jonah said, “Not those people.  They don’t deserve it,” and got on a ship headed in the opposite direction.  You probably know how that ended up.  It took a big storm and a bigger fish for Jonah to swallow his pride and bring the message of God’s mercy to Ninevah. Not because the message was too hard for him to deliver, but because he didn’t want his enemies to be forgiven.

When a bank forgives a loan, the money doesn’t have to be repaid.  That’s great!  But it’s meaningless if we get a letter that says, “Congratulations!  Your debt has been forgiven!” if we have no debt with that company in the first place.  It’s fantastic news when the letter is from our mortgage company.  In the same way, it’s no big deal to be “forgiven” by someone to whom we have no debt.  But it’s the best possible news when we’re forgiven by someone whom we have sinned against.

Jesus taught us to ask God to forgive our trespasses, our sins, in the same way we forgive those who have sinned against us (Matthew 6:12). He warned that we’ll be judged by the same measure we use to judge others (Matthew 7:2).  He urged us to receive forgiveness from God and turn around and offer that same forgiveness to those who are indebted to us –  “Shouldn’t you have mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you!” (Matthew 18:21-35).  The kind of forgiveness we give determines the kind of forgiveness we receive.

Jesus is also the one who said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you!” (Matthew 5:44) That sounds good on Sunday morning.  But what about when your smiling enemy is standing in front of you with an outstretched hand, seeking your forgiveness?  Suddenly this becomes a hard teaching.  Can you accept it?  Because if you offer them forgiveness, it means you also welcome them into fellowship, communion, and the peace of Christ.

When they were your enemy, they were also God’s enemy.  But if they have sought forgiveness at the Cross, then they have peace with God.  Jesus Himself has paid their debt to the Father.  Now He stands beside them asking for a peace treaty with you, asking if you will also accept payment from Him on their behalf.  Jesus offers His whole self, His very life, as payment for what they owe you.  Will you accept it?  Will you demand something more?

How can we ask for something more than the body and blood of our Savior?  What payment could our enemy make that would be of any value in comparison?  What satisfaction could it give to someone who is content with Christ?

Our problem is this:  If the forgiveness of God is for me, then it’s also for them.  And if it isn’t for them, then it isn’t for me either.  Without mercy, we’re all sunk.  So if I hold on to my desire for my enemies to be punished, I’ve forgotten that I myself deserve punishment.  When I remember that I have been the undeserving recipient of God’s great mercy, I love mercy.

I myself was an enemy of God.  But now He has forgiven me, forgiven my sins, canceled the debt that I owed Him, because of His love for me.  He took the initiative to make me right with Him.  He made it so my sins don’t count against me. He doesn’t hold Himself back from the intimate relationship He desires with me, the unity of my spirit with His.

I need this for myself.  I must do this for others who have offended me.  What my enemy owes me is a paltry amount.  But what if my forgiveness opens the door for the forgiveness of their monstrous debt against God?  Christians forgive not just so that we will be free, but with the hope that our enemy will also be free.

Justice is certain.  Judgment is coming.  The enemies of God will be punished.  When I see what the justice of God requires – beautiful, innocent Jesus crushed – I desire mercy. Because His fate is mine but for God’s unexpected mercy.  It’s only because of mercy that any of us are saved.

When the prison camp guard stood before Corrie ten Boom, all the offenses against her came rushing back and her first thought was, “I can’t forgive him!”  And then she prayed, “Jesus, give your forgiveness.”  This was only possible because Corrie knew she had been undeserving of forgiveness – how could she withhold forgiveness from this fellow sinner?  When she stretched out her hand to take his, she proved that the Good News is really good, it’s really true, our debts really are canceled and we’re really free.

Courage in Haarlem

“Whatever we do, it is because Christ’s love controls us.”  2 Corinthians 5:14

This statement is enough to turn many people off to Christianity.  We rarely get much beyond our five year old selves shouting, “You’re not the boss of me!” Any suggestion of God controlling us brings visions of cults and brainwashing that cause us to run the other way.

I’m not sure whether something is lost in translation, or if our guard goes up and so we never look any deeper into what our own language might mean.  Christ’s love controls us. Other translations say “The love of Christ controls us”.  This isn’t talking about the kind of control where Jesus has a remote and we’re robots, unable to regulate our actions.  It’s also not that Jesus takes over our minds and we’re no longer able to think for ourselves.

If I say “The love of hamburgers controls me,” you know I don’t mean that hamburgers love me and control my actions.  No.  You understand that I mean my love of hamburgers controls me.  My tenderhearted affection, my passionate devotion for hamburgers determines what I do.  The choices I make.  The lengths I am willing to go to and the sacrifices I am willing to make.

So what we’re talking about here is really our love for Christ influencing, determining, controlling what we do.  Making a difference in the life that we live.  It’s not just that Christ loves us, that He is passionately devoted to us, but that we also love Him. That our love for Him causes us to want to please Him, to bless Him, to not hurt His heart or add to His wounds.

Sometimes this love for Christ makes our choices a no-brainer.  If we know something would hurt the heart of our Beloved, we don’t do it.  If we know a way to bless the heart of our Beloved, we do it whenever we are able.  This isn’t really that hard for us to understand if we have loved someone – a spouse, a child, a parent.  We see something we know they would love, and we want to share it with them.  We know they hate fish, so we don’t plan their birthday dinner at a sushi restaurant.

At other times our love for Christ asks more than just adjustments in our menu planning. Sometimes it asks us to take a hard path.  Sometimes it leads us to a difficult place, a place that requires courage.

I recently visited the home of Corrie ten Boom in Haarlem, Netherlands, who was a watchmaker before WWII.  Then one day her country was taken over by the Nazis and Corrie’s love for Christ sent her on an unexpected path, a path that eventually led her into the hell of the concentration camps.  When Corrie started helping with the resistance, she didn’t know the kind of courage that would be asked of her.  All she knew was the love of Christ.  It set her course.

At some point we all come to a place that asks us if we really believe what we say we believe.  Does it make a difference when the rubber meets the road?  When life has tripped you up, and beaten you up, and is screaming in your face while you lie in the ashes, what do you do?  Will you have the courage to live the way you say you believe? We call this the courage of conviction.  But it’s really the courage of love.  Love that controls us.

“Adventure and anguish, horror and heaven were just around the corner, and we did not know.  If I had known, would I have gone ahead?  Could I have done the things I did?” – Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place

Sometimes love sends me on a path I don’t want to go down.  Sometimes it asks things of me I don’t want to give up.  Sometimes it means I have to do things I don’t want to do.  Not because my Beloved is forcing me.  Because MY love for my Beloved determines my actions.

Courage goes on, regardless of our fear, regardless of the cost.  We really only need courage when the path requires strength in the face of fear.  What could be stronger than love?  What can cause us to continue on a difficult path, an impossible path, other than love?

I wonder if, when we come to the end of our life’s journey and can view it with Heaven’s-height perspective, we will find that all the seemingly random and senseless twists and turns were only tracing the path of the Cross.

“The greatest love is shown when people lay down their lives for their friends.”   John 15:!3