4/2/2025
At my advanced age (and thank you all for your birthday wishes!), it’s possible I’ve told the story below before. If I have, please indulge me this once. At least.
One of the senior pastors (the cool title is “lead pastor”) I served under in another state could be . . . unreasonable at times. Difficult, even.
For example, my cousin’s husband was killed during one of Huntsville’s tornado outbreaks days before my Thanksgiving vacation. When I asked for an extra day to go to the funeral, for whatever reason he wouldn’t let me leave a day early.
On that Wednesday morning, while the funeral was going on back home, I sat at the lunch table where we all ate together, waiting for noon so I could leave for my Thanksgiving vacation, steaming . . . getting angrier and angrier. But I had always been taught to respect the pastor’s authority, so I held my tongue. For a while.
By the way, my opinion on respecting the pastor’s authority has changed. You’re welcome.
I sat on my anger for maybe a year until finally, when something small came up between the two of us, I turned loose on him.
Now, you’ve never seen me angry. None of you, and there’s a reason. If there’s no other proof of my salvation, that’s it. My dad was a volatile combination of Creek Indian, German, fighting Irish and a host of other warring nations.
And I am his son.
When my storm was spent, my senior pastor just stood there stunned. I certainly over-reacted to whatever minor thing he had said, and he had no idea why I was so vehemently angry about it. But I was not angry about that . . . I was angry about what had happened a year earlier.
All that time, I had kept myself bound up in anger and unforgiveness. I was the one who needed release, not him. When I explained to him what had happened, he not only didn’t remember, he couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t let me go . . . which means he was only half-listening when I asked him, but that’s another issue.
The New Testament has two words that are translated as “forgiveness,” but they have slightly different meanings. One is charizomai, which comes from the word meaning “grace,” and it means to cancel a debt. It’s used in Luke 7 when a “bad” woman wiped Jesus’ feet with her tears. Jesus is at the home of Simon the Pharisee when a notorious woman comes in and, in gratitude, anoints Jesus’ feet. Sensing the Pharisee's judgmental attitude, Jesus told this story: “A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he forgave [charizomai, cancelled] the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he forgave [charizomai, cancelled] the greater debt.”
The other, aphiemi, means to turn something loose or to let something go. It also appears in the same story! Jesus explains to Simon why she is so grateful: “Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love.” Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” That word, here translated “forgiven,” is aphiemi, meaning to loose or to let go.
Sometimes I can create enemies when there are none. I can take something someone has done and create an entire scenario out of it. Sometimes I think I know what someone is thinking about me when I really don’t have a clue what they’re really thinking (chances are, they’re not thinking about me at all). I end up creating a mean judgmental version of the other person in my head and use it to think mean thoughts about myself, blaming it on the other person. Which means I made them mean in my head.
Which means, I am the real problem, not them.
I was thinking judgmental things about the other person, while they were going about their lives, completely unaware that they were jerks [in my mind].
So, instead, whenever people truly act like jerks, maybe I should assume they are really like I was, angry with themselves and projecting it onto me. And forgive them.
And get on with my life.
That is why unforgiveness is bondage for the one who won’t forgive. The person who did us wrong? They’ve moved on and I’m the one in chains.
So what do I need to do? Forgive them in both senses of the word. Cancel the debt I hold against them, and then turn them loose and let them go. And when I do that, I end up turning myself loose as well.
After all, that's what Jesus did for us. As Paul writes, “Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive” (Col. 3:13)
Blessings,
Pastor Terry
PS - While proofreading this Pastor’s Note, I realized this is the fifth anniversary of this newsletter! Five years ago, on April 1, our first newsletter came out as an attempt to keep us connected, during the pandemic. We’ve had one a week since then . . . total of 260 weekly newsletters! I hope they’ve been a blessing!