What does it mean to forgive another?
First it entails recognition that a wrong and damaging deed has been done against you.
Your money has been stolen – more likely, by a giant corporation that controls your communications than by a thief in a shady alley; the sexual loyalty which you expected has been betrayed; workplace recognition and reward has been denied; professional services have been negligently and harmfully supplied; vicious gossip has maligned your character and reputation.
In the face of these provocations, the spontaneous reaction is an urge to punish, to right the balance.
As Matthew and Luke recognize in the Sermon on the Mount, the instinctive and cultural impulse is revenge and retaliation.
Over against this eye-for-an-eye ethic, Jesus enjoins his hearers: “love your enemies, and do good to those who hate you.” If we take love for one another to entail our forgiveness of them when they injure us, then in commanding love Jesus seems to be commanding unconditional forgiveness toward those who harm us. To this we shall return. But we agree that the intention of a disciple’s moral action ought always to be to restore relations of peace and upbuilding by forgiving wrongs.
However, one of the major issues about forgiveness remains unresolved. Is forgiveness conditional or unconditional? Do we extend forgiveness only when there is regret and an attempt at restitution? Or do we forgive regardless of the evildoer’s state of mind towards us and his misdeeds?
It is obviously easier to forgive, to say “I don’t hold your injury of me against you and I seek our reconciliation,” when the perpetrator says (and appears to mean it) “I’m sorry.”
But does one (should one?) act in the same restorative way even when the offender remains recalcitrant and unrepentant, hard-hearted, and unreconciled? Here lies the debate.
The answer is yes and no.
The desire and effort to achieve forgiveness remains absolute and uncompromisable.
In contrast, the effective extension of forgiveness to malefactors is dependent on their evincing a humble and a contrite heart, that is, upon repentance and restitution.
The insistence of First Nations on apology is more than the assertion of collective pride and honour. It implicitly recognizes that forgiveness and reconciliation are only possible when the wrongdoer acknowledges and repents of deculturation through colonizing residential schools, or land theft through disproportional treaties.
In the face of authentic contrition, Christians are stuck. Those who do truly and earnestly repent of their sins leave us no choice when they approach us for our forgiveness. We have to forgive. Our model is the loving forgiveness of God.
It is sometimes argued that to make forgiveness conditional on the wrongdoer’s repentance and confession would be to put them in control of our inner hearts – our dispositions and intentions.
But note: Forgiveness is a restored connection. Both sinner and sinned-against need to be implicated; the sinner’s role is to come forward with contrition and an attempt to make amends. Jean Vanier acknowledged this conditionality of forgiveness when he said, “forgiveness occurs when one [the malefactor] recognizes his oppression and forswears its continuance.”
Caution: There will likely be an inclination for most readers to cast themselves in the role of forgivers with conditions of repentance and restitution laid upon those who have wronged them.
It would probably be more spiritually useful to rewrite the script and cast ourselves in the role of sinners who need to take those first steps of repentance towards those whom we have hurt and harmed.