Forgiveness is as old as repentance, and repentance is as old as commandments. As long as there have been laws, there have been people to break them, and as long as there have been emotions, there have been people that hurt them. One beautiful example of forgiveness is found in the Old Testament, in the story of Joseph. Joseph was the beloved son of his father, the firstborn of Rachel, whom Jacob loved. As a result, his jealous brothers hated him, so much that they threw him into a pit and planned to leave him to die. But then they changed their minds, and decided instead to sell Joseph into slavery.
However, the Lord had other plans for Joseph. He was sold to Potiphar, captain of Pharaoh’s guard. While there, we learn that “the Lord was with him, and that the Lord made all that he did prosper in his hand.” (Genesis 39:3) Because of this, Potiphar made him overseer of his entire house.
Then came the temptation of Potiphar’s wife, a seductress that wished to corrupt Joseph. But Joseph was strong, and ran from her. Angry at his rejection of her advances, she convinced her husband that Joseph was the one at fault. Furious, Potiphar had Joseph thrown in prison.
I can only imagine Joseph’s emotions at that point. What had he done wrong? Nothing. And yet his brothers had sold him, and his master had imprisoned him. How many times did he relive the day his brothers betrayed him? How many restless nights did it cause?
Yet again, the Lord was with him, and gave him favor in the eyes of the prison guard. Joseph was put in charge of two other inmates, a butler and a baker from Pharaoh’s house. He correctly interpreted their dreams, saying that the baker would be put to death and the butler would return to Pharaoh’s palace in three days. When the prophecies came to pass, Joseph begged the butler to tell Pharaoh of his plight—but the butler forgot him.
What could he have felt then? Forgotten by the butler, forgotten by his master, forgotten by his family, forgotten…possibly…by the Lord? Is there any emotion more lonesome than feeling forgotten by all in the world?
For two more years this continued. Then one night, Pharaoh had a dream, which none of the wise men in all of Egypt could interpret. It was then, finally, that the butler remembered to tell Pharaoh of Joseph. He was sent for, and correctly interpreted the dream to mean that Egypt would have seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine. Impressed, Pharaoh made Joseph his second in command, giving him power to implement a food storage program across the entire nation.
The years of plenty came to pass, as did the years of famine. The famine did not only affect Egypt, however, but also spread all the way to Canaan, where Joseph's family still lived. Hearing of Egypt's abundance of food, Joseph's brothers decided to travel there to purchase food for their families.
When Joseph sees his brothers for the first time, he declares them all to be spies, and throws them in prison. What a time that must have been for him! Here he was, in a position of power, able to have them all killed for what they did to him. Vengeance was finally his. It must have seemed almost like the Lord had delivered them into his hands.
But deep down, he knew that was not God’s plan. His struggles with the Holy Spirit during that time must have been incredible. His desire was to make them suffer as he has suffer, but he could not deny that the Lord's desire was to forgive them and let them go. He knew that he had wrongfully imprisoned them, and he knew that he would have to let them go.
So he returns and releases all but Simeon, telling them to go, and return only when they have brought Benjamin, his brother and Rachel’s only other child, to him.
And as he releases them, he hears the words that he must have been longing to hear for 20 years: "And Reuben answered them, saying, 'Spake I not unto you, saying, Do not sin again the child; and ye would not hear? therefore, behold, also his blood is required." Now Joseph knew that they regretted their actions against him, and as a result, he gave them food, and even snuck the money they had brought to pay for it back into their sacks.
When they did return with Benjamin, Joseph tested them again, pretending that Benjamin had stolen a cup from him. If they had not changed their hearts, he knew that they would gladly give Benjamin to him to spare themselves. But they had changed. They had watched the grief of their father and regretted every day what they had done to Joseph. Judah gladly gave himself up, willing to give his own life to spare Benjamin.
With that, Joseph forgave them completely. He even exhorted them "be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life."
Joseph was able to see the greater perspective. He was able to see that regardless of all his trials, he had a destiny that was guided in every step by the Lord. He was good and righteous, and his sufferings were only for a moment, so that he may eventually be placed where God needed him to be, and where his family needed him to be.
Which part of Joseph’s story is your own? Have the hateful actions of others placed you in a pit, unable to move or get help, simply waiting to die? Or are you a slave, to financial burdens or difficult work, because you were betrayed for another’s financial or political gain? Perhaps you’re trapped in prison, for no other reason than you refused to compromise your beliefs. Or maybe you’ve risen above your trials, and are now in a position to get revenge on those who harmed you.
But it is now your sacred duty to try to forgive, as Joseph did. It is time to look at the bigger picture. Whether or not his brothers had repented, I believe Joseph would have forgiven them. He knew he was sent to Egypt by God, not by them. They were incapable of thwarting the plan of the Lord. The Lord will permit others to give us trials so that he can mold us into who we are meant to be. Wherever you are in your life, it is where the Lord needs you to be.
-Expounding The Mysteries-
For "God has not ceased to be a God of miracles." -Mormon 9:15
Behold, thus saith the Lord unto you my servants Joseph Smith, Jun., and Sidney Rigdon, that the time has verily come that it is necessary and expedient in me that you should open your mouths in proclaiming my gospel, the things of the kingdom, expounding the mysteries thereof out of the scriptures, according to that portion of the Spirit and power which shall be given unto you, even as I will. --Doctrine and Covenants, 71:1.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
As We Forgive Our Debtors
One of the most difficult things anyone can do in this life is to forgive someone who has wronged them...especially if the transgressor refuses to ask for forgiveness.
It can create a particular problem for Latter-Day Saints, since modern revelation has taught us that "he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin." (Doctrine and Covenants, 64:9) Also, Mark said, "...if you do not forgive, neither will your Father which is in heaven forgive your trespasses." (Mark 11:26)
I spent night after night tossing and turning over this dilemma. I needed, and continue to need, forgiveness for my own sins. But how could I forgive? How could I ignore the heartache, agony, and loss caused by others? How could I pretend I wasn't hurt? How could I say it didn't matter? How could I say it wasn't wrong?
While still struggling with this, I read the account of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in the book of Luke. And suddenly, the words which the Lord spoke while on the cross hit me with incredible force.
He didn't say, "Father, forgive them; it doesn't really hurt me." Because it did hurt him, beyond mortal understanding.
And He didn't say, "Father, forgive them; it doesn't really matter." Because it did matter, more than anyone could ever understand.
And He didn't say, "Father, forgive them; what they're doing isn't actually wrong." Because it was wrong, the most horrifying sin imaginable.
What He said was, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." (Luke 23:34)
I realized I could accept that about those who had wronged me. Did they know right from wrong? Absolutely. But so did the soldiers that ripped the raiment from Jesus' body and gambled for it.
So the question becomes: Could they know the extent of the destruction that their actions would cause? The devastating effects? The eternal consequence? No. I can believe that the full picture was not understood. Those soldiers knew they were doing wrong, but they did not believe they were martyring the Son of God. And those who hurt me knew I might get hurt, but didn't know life as I knew it would essentially come to an end.
The thought of forgiving such people myself was too much to bear. However, I could ask for the Lord's forgiveness for them. After all, isn't that what I ask for when I pray for myself? Justice dictates that if I sin, I cannot return to the presence of my Father. I pray for mercy, on behalf of the Savior's glorious atonement, to stay the hand of justice and encircle me in the salvation of God. And I could ask the same for them.
We are all sinners together. While the degree of sin may vary, the delicate balance of justice and mercy are the same for all. We must forgive another's sin for ours to be forgiven. There is no other option.
We must learn to trust that justice is God's dominion, not ours. For His justice is the only form that is accompanied by pure, unblemished, unbiased truth. He knows the darkest corners of every person's heart. He know the intention of every action. If you trust in the Lord's omnipotence, you must also trust in His judgement. There is not one sin in all the history of mankind that will remain unaccounted for at the last day. Therefore, our only option is to "let God judge between me and thee, and reward thee according to they deeds." (Doctrine and Covenants, 64:11)
Perhaps this is only the first step in a battle. But it is a step for those who feel they have none. And it is progress. We are not here to be instantly perfect, but to grow, learn, and progress. Since we are not perfect, it is our sacred duty to forgive one another, to build each other up, and above all, to love our fellow man with every ounce of strength we possess.
It can create a particular problem for Latter-Day Saints, since modern revelation has taught us that "he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin." (Doctrine and Covenants, 64:9) Also, Mark said, "...if you do not forgive, neither will your Father which is in heaven forgive your trespasses." (Mark 11:26)
I spent night after night tossing and turning over this dilemma. I needed, and continue to need, forgiveness for my own sins. But how could I forgive? How could I ignore the heartache, agony, and loss caused by others? How could I pretend I wasn't hurt? How could I say it didn't matter? How could I say it wasn't wrong?
While still struggling with this, I read the account of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in the book of Luke. And suddenly, the words which the Lord spoke while on the cross hit me with incredible force.
He didn't say, "Father, forgive them; it doesn't really hurt me." Because it did hurt him, beyond mortal understanding.
And He didn't say, "Father, forgive them; it doesn't really matter." Because it did matter, more than anyone could ever understand.
And He didn't say, "Father, forgive them; what they're doing isn't actually wrong." Because it was wrong, the most horrifying sin imaginable.
What He said was, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." (Luke 23:34)
I realized I could accept that about those who had wronged me. Did they know right from wrong? Absolutely. But so did the soldiers that ripped the raiment from Jesus' body and gambled for it.
So the question becomes: Could they know the extent of the destruction that their actions would cause? The devastating effects? The eternal consequence? No. I can believe that the full picture was not understood. Those soldiers knew they were doing wrong, but they did not believe they were martyring the Son of God. And those who hurt me knew I might get hurt, but didn't know life as I knew it would essentially come to an end.
The thought of forgiving such people myself was too much to bear. However, I could ask for the Lord's forgiveness for them. After all, isn't that what I ask for when I pray for myself? Justice dictates that if I sin, I cannot return to the presence of my Father. I pray for mercy, on behalf of the Savior's glorious atonement, to stay the hand of justice and encircle me in the salvation of God. And I could ask the same for them.
We are all sinners together. While the degree of sin may vary, the delicate balance of justice and mercy are the same for all. We must forgive another's sin for ours to be forgiven. There is no other option.
We must learn to trust that justice is God's dominion, not ours. For His justice is the only form that is accompanied by pure, unblemished, unbiased truth. He knows the darkest corners of every person's heart. He know the intention of every action. If you trust in the Lord's omnipotence, you must also trust in His judgement. There is not one sin in all the history of mankind that will remain unaccounted for at the last day. Therefore, our only option is to "let God judge between me and thee, and reward thee according to they deeds." (Doctrine and Covenants, 64:11)
Perhaps this is only the first step in a battle. But it is a step for those who feel they have none. And it is progress. We are not here to be instantly perfect, but to grow, learn, and progress. Since we are not perfect, it is our sacred duty to forgive one another, to build each other up, and above all, to love our fellow man with every ounce of strength we possess.
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