In a recent article in the New York Times, journalist Christina Caron discusses the work of the trauma therapist Amanda Gregory on forgiveness. The title of Caron’s article is intentionally provocative: “Sometimes, Forgiveness is Overrated.”
For Christians to hear such a claim may at first feel uncomfortable – Jesus made forgiveness central to his ministry both in word and deed. It’s central to some of the Gospel’s most famous parables (e.g. Lk. 15:1-32), stories (e.g. Jn. 8:2-11), and teachings (e.g. Mt. 5:43-48; 6:12; 18:21-22). It’s one of the reasons Jesus was killed (e.g. Mk. 2:7) and it encapsulates a central kernel of Jesus’ mission on Earth (e.g. Eph. 1:7 or 1 Cor. 15:3-8). In fact, it’s arguably the most important theme in the entire New Testament. Is it possible for forgiveness to be overrated?
Caron’s article itself is nuanced on the issue. First of all, Caron observes no clear definition of forgiveness exists. Does forgiveness mean “replacing ill will towards the offender with goodwill”? Or does it mean something more neutral, such as “relinquishing [sentiments of] revenge, hatred or grievance without the need for positive feelings”? On the other hand, perhaps forgiveness is more than simply replacing ill will with goodwill – perhaps to truly forgive, one must foster “compassion, generosity, and even love” for the offender (this does sound more Jesus-like).
The definition we use matters because how feasible forgiveness is—- and what psychological benefits it confers — will vary depending on our definition. Abundant evidence exists for the salutary effects of forgiveness on the human psyche, but as Caron notes, quoting another psychologist, “forgiveness is almost always helpful, but that is different than necessary.”
I think Caron’s conclusion is spot on, and I don’t think saying so is a challenge to the centrality of forgiveness to the Christian faith.
In a society where secular reason holds tremendous sway in determining ‘the good life,’ it is convenient to equate truths of the Christian faith with ‘good psychology’ as if Christian spirituality were simply modern psychology dumbed down for the average 1st-century Palestinian fisherman.
Following this line of thinking, if modern psychology reveals forgiveness is not necessary to live a healthy and happy human life, then it’s also not necessary to live a happy and healthy Christian life. But Christian spirituality isn’t just good psychology and the Christian faith is not designed simply to promote a happy and healthy human life. The Christian faith exists to transform human life into divine life. To paraphrase the early second century bishop St. Irenaeus, ‘The glory of God is the human person fully alive and true life is the vision of God.’
The psychologists cited by Caron emphasize that after a human person has been deeply wounded by another’s actions, an arduous journey toward healing is required. Psychological health requires freedom from the bonds that shackle us to those who have wounded us. It requires an arduous journey in which we re-discover our inherent dignity, masked by our own sins and the grievous sins of others. Yet what is not required is a total relinquishing of revenge, hatred or ill will, let alone fostering ‘compassion, generosity, and love.’ Though doing so may be healthy – as Caron’s sources readily acknowledge – it is not strictly necessary for great progress toward psychological recovery and freedom.
I, for one, thank God total forgiveness is not necessary for psychological health. Forgiveness sometimes takes years and sometimes never happens at all. God, in God’s mercy, has granted that we not be miserable in the meantime.
Though related to psychological health, Christian forgiveness remains radically different because its ends differ. The end of psychological health is a happy and healthy human life; the end of Christian discipleship is participation in the divine life. Psychological health requires breaking bonds wrought by sin; forgiveness requires the formation of new bonds, but this time bonds of love between us and the one who wounded us. For the Christian these bonds do not limit freedom but rather constitute it because the cords of love fashioned through forgiveness are none other than Christ himself. Christ places himself between us and the one who wounded us, and according to St. Paul, by reaching between the two, Jesus reconciles enemies through his own blood (cf. Col. 1:20; Eph. 2:14-16). By participating in the love of Jesus for our enemies, God makes what was impossible possible (cf. Mt. 19:26): love replaces hatred and resentment. Much as St. Irenaeus taught, we become fully alive not by ‘psychological health’ alone but by sharing the vision of God; that is, by seeing the world through the eyes of Jesus and loving the world – including our enemies – ‘through the blood of his Cross.’
Returning to Caron’s article, one of her important observations is that many forms of forgiveness are simply too difficult to achieve through therapy and thus cannot be expected as ‘necessary’ components of healing. She and the psychologists she interviewed are absolutely right. As St. Paul writes in the Letter to the Ephesians, the sort of forgiveness typical of Christianity “is not from [us]; it is the gift of God. It is not from works, that no one may boast.” (Eph. 2:8-9). Therapy requires work and psychological health often culminates in the re-discovery of something immensely precious within us: our own inherent dignity. Christian forgiveness operates in the opposite direction. It ‘is not from works’ but is rather a pure gift of God. It is grace, and grace cannot be forced nor is it ‘discovered;’ it is only freely given by God.
For the Christian, true forgiveness is not a ‘psychological hack’ for a mentally sound life. In fact, it’s not even something we can arrive at by our own inner work. Doing the necessary ‘work’ – such as re-discovering our inner dignity after profound spiritual injury – may well prepare the soil for receiving the seed of graced forgiveness, but as Caron’s article correctly discerns, to experience this forgiveness by our own efforts is not necessary for psychological health precisely because to do so is impossible. Through active prayer and the pursuit of psychological health, we may indeed approach the throne of grace (cf. Heb. 4:16). However, we can only ever receive the gift of forgiveness by which we capture – or rather are captured by – the transformative vision of God.
Photo by Paola Chaaya.
