Forgiven and a Friend
A few years ago, I took my six-year-old-daughter, Kara, to the neighborhood where I grew up. We went by the house where I lived, with its garage that dad built, and evergreen trees that I planted, but now tower in the sky. The field where we played baseball is now a large apartment building. We went to my grade school, where I pushed Kara on the swing. The playground filled my mind with memories--one in particular, that wasn't so good. There was a boy in my class who had to wear a leg brace. He was very persistent about playing with us, and we didn't always respond very kindly. One day, he was running as fast as he could, and in my anger, I purposely tripped him. Even as I write this, I still feel ashamed.
At a recent class reunion, I saw this same boy. I found out that he is an engineer, as I am, and he is a Christian. He and I talked for a long time. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for that incident on the playground, but I did not have the courage to bring it up. When we said goodbye, I reached my hand out to shake his and he pulled me in to give me a hug. God used that hug, that day, to let me know that this young man had forgiven me. In between the words he spoke and the hug he gave me was the forgiveness that I badly needed...
The soldiers who put Christ on the cross heard Jesus say, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do." Perhaps on that day, the soldiers did not realize how badly they needed to hear those words of forgiveness. Perhaps, later in their lives, they looked back with terrible regret on the inhumane torture they inflicted on the Lord of the universe and felt, like I did, the need to hear their Lord and Savior speak words of forgiveness.
After we finished playing on my grade school's playground, I took Kara to the cemetery where my mom was recently buried. Next to my mom is my nephew, Christian, who died at the age of two from internal bleeding after a bird bath feeder in his back yard fell on him. After I told Kara about Christian, she sat on the grass over his grave and cried. As we got into the car, my eyes, too, welled up with tears. I am not sure why--whether they were tears over my mom's death or my little nephew. But I saw on that day that the true tragedy in life is not death--not even death of a dearest loved one. True tragedy is living with a haunting memory--a memory filled with regret and shame--a memory that only forgiveness can take away.
The beautiful thing about this story is how God always knew that years later I would feel ashamed over what I did to that boy on the playground that day. And God knew what it would take to resolve that shame.
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Perhaps it is these words that best sum up the Gospel. And perhaps the words that best sum up our response are the same words spoken by the thief on the cross that day; "Remember me, when you come into your kingdom."
When we get to the end of our life's journey, with the weight of shame and guilt on our backs, we will look to Christ and ask Him to remember us. And because of the infinite grace that He showed on the cross, He will reach out and hug us, and permanently remove from us all the weight of our guilt and shame.
From my past
Events loom
And haunt me still,
And threaten my soul’s ruin
Memories that try
To get me to stop,
Turn around,
And see my pitiful lot.
Something essential
For the journey I'm on;
Something I need
so I can press on.
Something to remember
The love I've been given;
To realize how short
the journey I'm living.
To slow me up
And don't pass by,
A greater grace,
not a twisted lie.
To remember Your words,
"Father, forgive them."
And see that I am
Forgiven, and a friend.
Dean Robinson Contact the author at Dean.Robinson@hdrinc.com
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