The Faith to Forgive Pandemic and Post-Election Wounds

Amongst the upheaval, tragedies, and acrimonious culture that has plagued our country this past season, we are facing a relational pandemic of epic proportions: Rifts between those we love, bitter fighting with strangers on social media, and perhaps, worst of all, as a church leader lamented to me recently, the divisiveness in our churches is arguably at the highest level it has been in decades.

Relational carnage has struck within the heart of the beautiful bride of Christ, the bride that Christ bled and fought for; the bride whose unity could declare to a watching world that Christ was sent by God that they “may believe” (John 17:23).  And this watching world is desperate, having just gone through a pandemic where death has plagued minds and fear has plagued hearts. The world needs the uniting, life-giving truth of the gospel from those of us who believe. 

During the election season, most of us might have assumed that our political opinions would cause dissension, but post-election and still reeling with a pandemic, we are finding that so many other things have caused relational strain. And at times, forgiveness can feel unreachable. We are wounding one another, not just faithfully as it says in Proverbs 27:6, but bitterly, even spitefully, because we differ so significantly on our responses in these unprecedented times, be it masks and vaccines or government figures and policies. 

Can we regain the unity we’ve lost? I believe we can, and one of the main paths will be through the humble road of forgiveness. True, deep-hearted forgiveness that can only be found through the grace and power of God. Humble forgiveness that may not mean regaining the same congregations and even relationships we had pre-pandemic, but will keep our hearts undefiled from the poisonous root of bitterness.

A Model of Forgiveness

A man who can relate to many of the wounds or hurts we have faced this season, is Jesus, yes, but also in full broken human form: King David. David’s predecessor (and best friend’s father)—King Saul—tried multiple times to kill him out of extreme jealousy. David’s wife (Michel) despised him when he celebrated victoriously in the Jerusalem courtyard. Nathan the prophet and David’s friend rebuked him over his wicked behavior (rightly so, but still wounding). And perhaps worst of all, one of David’s sons (Absalom) tried to have him killed to steal his kingdom. And yet, David is still able to express:

“As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones, in whom is all my delight” (Psalm 16:3).

David delighted over God’s people, and while this verse was written prior to some of the above- mentioned wounding, the evidence suggests he continued to do did this throughout his life by forgiveness. He determined to spare King Saul’s life, and even grieved and mourned when Absalom died. We know he was far from perfect and fraught with sin, but his ability to delight in the “saints in the land,” the people around him, is in the very least a testament to the working of God’s grace. He seemed to be able to walk away from bitterness and toward the forgiveness that God can work through those of us submitted to the heart of God.

The Faith it Takes

So how did David do it? How did he have faith strong enough to seemingly do the impossible, like forgiving those that seem unforgivable? 

Jesus’ disciples wondered the same thing. When Jesus tells them in Luke 17 to forgive their brother seven times in the same day when he sins against them, they express how difficult this challenge feels: “Increase our faith!” they beg Jesus. In their eyes—perhaps often like our own—forgiving our brother or sister who has deeply wronged us feels insurmountable. We sometimes say, “I am not ready to forgive.” And often, what we really mean by this is, “This is hard, and I don’t want to do it.”

But what if the heart disposition of, “It’s too hard to forgive,” is the place where God’s grace meets us? Jesus responds to his disciples in Luke 17 with a surprising answer: 

“If you had faith like a grain of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” 

If we have the tiniest-sized seed of faith in our heart, we can do the seeming impossible. With this faith, we can uproot the thick roots of disappointments, unmet desires, stinging wounds, and failed hopes, even if they’re like the root system of a mulberry tree that runs deep within the ground. Jesus’ point, however, is that being able to do this work is far less about having a glorious faith and more about having a glorious Savior. 

Small does not mean weak. When you’re a pastor battered by the criticism of church members,  a family member who has received the stinging antagonism from relatives who differ from them politically or “pandemically,” a business leader who has suffered great financial loss or bitter words over opening too much or not enough, or a church member who has felt their pastor has let down them and so many others in their handling of the pandemic, you may feel like your faith is worn and weak. But as we bring our mustard-seed-sized faith to God and ask him to work forgiveness through us, his power can come flooding through, causing us to pour out forgiveness on those that we thought we could never forgive. 

Unity Cannot be Achieved Without Forgiveness

As we lament the divisions and also strive toward unity in our churches and other relationships, let us not forget that the road to unity is paved with the often pain-staking sacrifice of forgiveness. This forgiveness may take small, repetitive steps, like seven times in a day, but it is a heroic act empowered by a heroic, mighty Savior. As he weaves within us the strands of deep-rooted forgiveness, he mends our hearts and accomplishes the goal of being a light to the world through our unity and our love for one another:

Love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:34-35).