None Sought, None Granted

Forgiveness is a curious thing, but as much as it is curious, it is amazing too. 

On one hand it’s merely an exchange, of words usually…

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

Mostly that’s how it goes for folks.  We string it out a bit more in our family…

“I was wrong.  I am sorry.  Please forgive me.”

“I forgive you, and I love you.”

That feels a bit more meaningful and rich, and we think it’s closer to a biblical model. 

So forgiveness, it’s words, exchanged, yes.  

But more, and deeper, forgiveness is a regret and repentance and repair and restoration and renewal and even restitution when necessary.  Those lines:  “Please forgive me” and “I forgive you” are loaded lines.  Although, to level the load in those lines, there requires a seeking and a granting.

Jacob and Esau had been at odds with each other since before they were born.  Then after these quarrelsome twins were born it went from bad to worse.  They were biologically fraternal, but contentiously identical.  Jacob the cheater and Esau the hot-head worked on each other week after day after year, right down to this moment in history I came across in my Bible this morning, in Numbers 20.

By this time in history Jacob had become the great nation of Israel.  Esau had become the great nation of Edom.  With both I use the word “great” loosely and primarily to indicate size over rapport. 

The Edomites had been settled into the arid and high craggy territory southeast of the Dead Sea for a few centuries now.  The Israelites were still wandering, trying to find their home.  From slavery to desert dwellers, they were searching for a promised land. 

Their search here in the text brought them to the border of their brother, Esau or Edom.  And here I am struck by just how bottomless some sin is; just how deep the gangly roots of bitterness delve into the soul, locking their tendrils into the culled soil of wrath and anger, hell bent on not giving way to forgiveness. 

I imagine a knock at the door clunking through the hollow chamber of the King’s palace. 

“May we pass through your land?  We’re heading north…” 

The voice of Jacob’s ancestor stutters.  The request is hesitant.  Those on the outside of the door know as much as those beyond it about the tense history between them all.  The door is thicker with hatred than either may imagine.

“We promise we won’t touch or take anything,” pleads Israel.

“NO!” 

The reply from Edom is barked back hard and harsh.

“But we’ve been in captivity and we’ve been dealt harshly with…”

Pitiful response from Israel really.  As if somehow their oppression in Egypt paid a price for their founding fathers’ sin against Edom’s founding father.  We’re good now, right?

“NO!”

Now Edom’s bark feels as sharp as their bite.

Then a curious thing happens literarily.  The pronouns turn first-person singular. 

“You shall not pass through, lest I come out with a sword against you,” says…Esau?

“But we’ll stick to the Kings Highway and if I or my livestock drink or take anything, then I will pay for it.  Let me only pass through on foot, nothing more,” asks…Jacob?

The voices sound eerily like a couple boys - Jacob and Esau – and the singular certainly harkens us back to old days and old battles, yet here they are now face to face again, still at odds. 

One has not sought forgiveness.  One has not granted forgiveness.  Both stuck in the stalemate of unforgiven spirits.  And it’s ugly.

Edom is ready to come to blows, ready to kill.  Jacob, still cowering from captivity, turns aside and takes an alternate route.

No regret.  No repentance.  No repair.  No restoration.  No renewal.  No restitution. 

No forgiveness.  

None sought.  None granted.  And it continues even today. 

And I wonder, how am I doing here?  What broken relationships of mine dangle out there like loose shoe strings being kicked around the playground ready to trip-up and flatten the unknowing and hapless child?  I would do well to pause my steps and look back over my shoulder.  Who have I left stranded along the way, buried or bruised from my sin?  Or maybe I do better still to recount my steps and notice the ones who have sinned against me; notice in my guts the shored up bitterness that holds my enemies captive? 

Who among the beautiful people I have loved over the years shall I seek forgiveness from?  And who of them all shall I grant forgiveness to? 

And may I be so humble as to assume you may have a few from your long days as well who need you to either seek or grant forgiveness? 

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also much forgive.”  - Colossians 3:12-13

“Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.  Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”  - Ephesians 4:31-32