"Then he fell on his knees and cried out, 'Lord, do not hold this sin against them.'
When he had said this, he fell asleep."
Acts 7:60
I have wronged many people throughout my life, often those close to me. But I have equally been wronged by the words and actions of others on numerous occasions. Every time I experience a personal offense, I am forced to decide which nature I will allow to prevail: my fleshly nature or the Holy Spirit’s nature. My fleshly nature reacts to heart wounds with disappointment and resentment. The Holy Spirit’s nature, however, responds to such incidents with kindness, grace, and forgiveness. There is a striking contrast between the two. The fleshly nature leads to hurt; the Holy Spirit’s nature leads to healing.
Perhaps the most personally challenging event involving my need to exercise forgiveness transpired when I was asked to step down as the part-time music minister of a church that I had been leading in worship for almost three years. My removal was never fully explained or expressed by the pastor, the man who called for my departure. What is arguably more surprising is that the pastor forced my resignation without explaining anything about it to the church. Personnel committee members and deacon members were given advanced notification that I was being asked to step down, but virtually no one inquired about the rationale or underlying circumstances. One day I was there, the next day I was not.
I went through several stages of agony in the months that followed. At first, I was deeply upset and hurt. The initial aftershock resulted in a barrage of tears. Then my hurt turned into spite. What right did the pastor have to dismiss me so carelessly? Why did the church passively condone my perceived injustice to occur without questioning the pastor, corporately praying, seeking counsel, or pursuing reconciliation? Finally, spite morphed into anger. I was furious at the pastor, the church, and, for a season, God Himself.
God made me aware that what I was sensing was not spiritually healthy or appropriate. In time, He helped me move beyond yesterday’s frustration by embracing a glorious today. The season of pain brought about a thirst in me that only God’s truth could quench. My heart became fertile soil which eventually produced the most fruitful season of spiritual growth that I have ever experienced. God’s Word and His Spirit comforted me tremendously.
But even as I drew closer to God, I knew something was unresolved. Almost a year after I had been excused from the music ministry, I still had not forgiven the pastor for what he had done. The Holy Spirit was rightfully convicting me to engage a forgiving spirit. I was not content staying in a state of spiritual half-heartedness. I needed to give God everything, including the emotional sting and scars that I had received from my former pastor.
For awhile, I debated what course of action I should take. Should I call the pastor out of the blue and ask how he was doing? Should I send him an email and ask if we could get together? Neither of those options sounded desirable. I finally decided to write the pastor a letter. Unable to find the right words to flow through a pen, I stared at a blank piece of paper for several days. I did not want the tone of the letter to be abrasive or attacking. It needed to be compassionate. It needed to be peaceful. It needed to be sealed in love. But my bitterness towards the pastor blocked my ability to write a letter of forgiveness. The Holy Spirit continued to encourage me to stop thinking about forgiving the pastor and actually forgive the pastor. But how?
The answer was found in prayer. Through the Holy Spirit’ prompting, I prayed that God would bless the pastor. Was my heart fully in tune with that request at first? Honestly no. But I prayed it over and over, day after day. As the weeks went by, I found my heart truly desiring what the Holy Spirit urged me to say. Soon, my prayers for the pastor became more energetic and emphatic. God, please allow the pastor to lead his family well. Help him to see the value of your Word and convey it in such a way that the church members will daily crave to spend time in it. God, keep him humble and dynamic.
The coolness of my heart quickly melted away in the warmth of the Holy Spirit’s fire. The pastor was no longer a manipulator or a deceiver in my mind; he was a brother. I forgave him completely. My letter to the pastor was written immediately after that final spiritual hurdle was cleared. No yearning to pass blame or cast stones presented itself. In fact, the letter took on a quality of praise. I thanked the pastor for the opportunity he had given me and expressed a hope that our friendship would someday be restored.Did I mail that letter? No. Why? Because I never felt a sense of peace in the potential outcome. If I mailed the letter and heard nothing from the pastor, I would probably undergo a heightened level of sadness or displeasure. If the pastor did respond, but in a manner that communicated he had no remorse for his conduct, then personal aggravation would likely resurface. As I relayed these musings to my wife and mother at lunch one day, my mother said, “Don’t give another thought to mailing the letter.” She pointed out that the desire to write the letter had finally liberated me to forgive the pastor, shedding a backpack of burdens in the process. She also reminded me that forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation, although forgiveness is a critical step in the path to reconciliation. Forgiveness, like love, is a one way transaction that does not levy any expectation of positive reciprocation on the one it is being given to.
Looking back, writing that letter was not intended to change the pastor; it was intended to change me. My heart needed to unchain the pain and the bitterness. Thanks to the power of the Holy Spirit, prayer, and biblical study, I did. Fellowshipping with God was crucial to helping me find the capacity to exercise forgiveness.
Forgiveness has a way of freeing humanity from the shackles of our flesh. Stephen provided a dramatic example of this in Acts 7, when he was put on trial for his faith in Jesus. The manner in which Stephen was forcibly led to trial was by means of lies and slander. He was brought before the Sanhedrin. Acts 7:1 reveals that the interrogation of Stephen by the religious leaders was sanctioned and chaired by the high priest, just as it was with the apostles’ trial in Acts 5. The high priest opened the trial by asking Stephen if there was any truth to the claim that he had dishonored the temple and spoken against the Mosaic and oral laws. Stephen’s reply was extensive and steeped in biblical history.
The disciple’s defense began by addressing the Sanhedrin as “fathers and brothers”, which indicates Stephen did not want the Sanhedrin to view him as an outsider to the Hebrew faith. Even though he was a believer in the authority and divinity of Jesus Christ, Stephen was still a part of the Jewish ancestry and heritage. He too cherished the beliefs and traditions of God’s covenantal people: Israel. His allegiance to Christ did not diminish this admiration. If anything, it enhanced it.
Stephen discussed key points in the Hebrew narrative, highlighting considerations which could only be further understood or appreciated in light of Jesus’ life and atoning sacrifice. From Abraham to Joseph to Moses, there was conclusive evidence that God’s generousness and man’s rebelliousness were repetitive themes in the Jewish story. But to appreciate Israel’s roots, the people needed to consider their nation’s incredible beginning. Abraham (formerly Abram) was fatherless when God called him to leave his home and go to a place God would later reveal to him. God promised to bless Abraham and make his name great (Genesis 12). Many generations would rejoice because of Abraham’s noble life. In every way imaginable, Abraham’s decision to desert his country and follow God into the unknown was a journey of faith. Therefore, Israel did not originate as a nation guided by customs and self-imposed laws; it was founded as a people of faith.
In the course of Stephen’s testimony, he did not speak unfavorably of Moses’ work as he was falsely accused of doing. Rather, he elevated Moses’ place in the Jewish chronicle because, in a way, Moses was a forerunner to the work of Jesus. Moses was a man unlike any other. He held several vital offices for Israel: redeemer, law-giver, judge, and representative of God. But even he was rejected and ignored by his kinsmen. Stephen drew a parallel to the refusal of many in his time, especially within the religious order, to accept the position and teachings of Jesus, the Righteous One.
The Old Testament clearly expressed the need for an eternal redemption that could only be found in an unblemished sacrifice. The Mosaic law, which called for continual sacrificial offerings, was momentary. It was a prelude to the all-encompassing, all-sufficient offering of Jesus. Stephen accused the religious leaders of disobeying the Mosaic law by refusing to accept the life, legacy, and lordship of Jesus. Jesus’ association with Moses was absurd, foolish, and outright hideous in the minds of the Sanhedrin council. Stephen proclaimed that the religious leaders were a stiff-necked people, which was a common rebuke utilized by many of the Old Testament prophets. Furthermore, Stephen declared that the Sanhedrin members had uncircumcised hearts, alluding to a disparity in that the Jewish men had the physical mark of God’s covenant on their bodies but they lacked the spiritual mark of faith in their hearts.
Stephen employed his bold critique hoping to arouse the religious leaders to brokenness and repentance. Instead, he incited their anger. The hearts of the Sanhedrin members overflowed with contempt. Perhaps knowing what was coming, Stephen looked up and was given a supernatural gaze into heaven, where he saw Jesus standing at the right hand of God. Jesus’ seat beside God confirmed His divine equality with God. This, of course, was a blatant falsehood in the eyes of the Sanhedrin since they did not recognize the Messianic nature of Christ. When Stephen announced his vision to the Sanhedrin, they began screaming and charged at him like a pack of wild animals, dragging him out of Jerusalem.
The wickedness in the dark hearts of the Sanhedrin was fully exposed that day. They put Stephen to death by means of stoning. Although this type of execution was permitted in Leviticus 24:16, this vicious and violent form of punishment was reserved for those who had blasphemed God, which Stephen did not. But this tragedy was dually unsanctioned by the fact that all corporal punishment issues were to be addressed by the Roman civil powers, not the Jewish ecclesiastical courts, as was the case with Jesus’ crucifixion. Stephen’s execution was therefore illegal.
As Stephen’s body was getting bombarded with rocks, he prayed that God would not hold the sin of his slaughter against the participants, a response that is truly remarkable. As stones lacerated his skin and drove him to the ground, Stephen’s dying thought was one of mercy for his murderers. This was not Stephen’s flesh speaking; it was the Spirit of God speaking. A person exhibiting concern for the eternal welfare of the very people bringing his life to a sudden, painful end provides one of the most compelling examples of the difference that the Holy Spirit can make in one’s life. Clearly, forgiveness is not for the faint of heart; it is for the faithful of heart.
Luke documents a young man named Saul, who we will come to know later as Paul, watched the cloaks of the men as they killed Stephen, suggesting that Saul not only approved of Stephen’s murder, he had a hand in it. It is important to note that the forgiveness I refer to in the upcoming paragraphs, as I have in previous paragraphs, is a forgiveness that pertains to broken human relationships. This must not be confused with divine forgiveness. Divine forgiveness is an act of God’s grace which forever removes the stains of a believer’s sins. Through Jesus, and only Jesus, believers are restored to a right relationship with God. Human forgiveness, on the other hand, is the ability to cast away bitter thoughts towards the offending party. It refuses to wish ill-will upon those who have performed hurtful actions. It does not excuse the sins of the offender, but it does remove the feeling and burden of resentment towards the offender. Jesus addressed human forgiveness in Matthew 18:21-22, which Stephen modeled in his dying moments in Acts 7:60. Through Stephen’s example, we discover three fundamental components of forgiveness.
One, forgiveness is sincere. Stephen’s plea for God not to condemn his attackers came from a sincere, spiritually-deep life, a life that preaches and practices forgiveness. He longed for people, even those who would assault him, to come to know Jesus as their Savior. Stephen was genuinely concerned for humanity.
Forgiveness gives regardless of whether it is accepted. It gives regardless of whether someone favorably responds to it. It places no conditions, restrictions, or stipulations on the person it is being offered to. It has no shelf life or expiration date. It has no strings attached or hidden agendas. It is not based on someone’s worthiness to receive it; it is based on someone’s willingness to grant it.
Two, forgiveness is steadfast. It does not tire or fade. It is longsuffering. Even when facing threats of force and acts of hatred as Stephen did, forgiveness can overcome. This may seem impossible or unrealistic, but it is only impossible or unrealistic from a human perspective. From God’s perspective, not only is forgiveness possible, it is expected. Believers have been pardoned from the eternal consequences of our transgressions. We should be willing and able to reproduce the merciful nature of our Redeemer.
Three, forgiveness is selfless. Instead of dwelling on the injustice of his personal situation, Stephen chose to dwell on the spiritual state of his persecutors. Instead of becoming consumed with the severity of the pain he was being subjected to, Stephen chose to be consumed with the hearts of his oppressors. He was selflessly thinking of his persecutors’ livelihood rather than his own affliction.
Forgiveness is undeniably powerful when it is practiced by God’s followers. It is so powerful, in fact, that a person who is brutally led to death’s gate can find the strength and conviction to show genuine compassion for the lives of others. It was true of Stephen. It was true of Jesus. It should be true of us.
Do you exercise a forgiving heart?