Father, Forgive Them

Father, Forgive Them

Thoughts on dealing with my son, Max

"Jesus said, 'Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.'"

                                                                                 --Luke 23:34a

 

Forgive them.

Jesus forgave his tormentors, even as they were crucifying him, insulting him, blaspheming him.  He forgave them based on their ignorance.  His cry for mercy was not for himself, as mine would be under those circumstances.  His cry for mercy was for his torturers, because they were ignorant, and they did not know the magnitude--the "unforgivability"--of the sin they were in the process of committing.  He laid himself down in front of God on their behalf, for their sin, while they were yet sinning.

What could anyone do to me that could equal what was done to Jesus?  Is what I perceive Max to be doing to me anywhere near the same level of offense?  And even if it were, isn't there always a nagging feeling that I know I deserve, to a large extent, his accusations and treatment?  When he curses at me, I cannot deny that he has felt cursed by me and, indeed, that he has been cursed at by me?  I cannot plead innocence or ignorance.  I am reaping in part what I have sown:  jagged, angry thorns among the regal, immaculate harvest I tried to make myself believe I was cultivating.  A crown of thorns jammed onto a King's head is the best I can do, the only product that grows out of my own intentions. 

Jesus is the forgiver of his tormentors, and he is the forgiver of mine.  He is the forgiver of me.  How, then, can I withhold it from my son?  If I do, then I am the only one withholding it from him, for Jesus offers it freely, even before Max realizes he needs it.  He offers it to me as I grapple with this concept, with these words I am writing here now.  He forgives me when Max cannot, and he forgives Max as he hurls curses, welling up from deep within his wounded soul, at me.

He forgives us as we hurt Him.  And he forgives us as we hurt each other.  He holds out his hands to both of us and encourages us to step up and walk with Him.  

"This is how it is done," he murmurs, always gently.  "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."

Father, forgive me, because I can't say I didn't know what I was doing at times.  I knew.  God help me, I knew.  

And help me forgive Max, because I see now that there is no other way.  Please take my hand and help me do this.

ErinRMS

2/19/2013