As a young man, Dr. A.J. Cronin was in charge of a small hospital. One evening, he performed an emergency operation on a little boy.
It was a very delicate operation, and the doctor felt great relief when the little fellow breathed freely after it was over. He gave orders to the young nurse and went home filled with gratitude for the success.
Late that night came a frantic call for the doctor. Everything had gone wrong, and the child was in desperate conditions. When Dr. Cronin got to the bedside, the little boy was already dead.
The nurse had become frightened and had neglected her duty. Dr. Cronin decided she should not be trusted again, and he wrote a letter to the board of health which would end her career as a nurse. He called her in and read the letter to her. She listened in shame and misery, saying nothing.
After reading the letter, Dr. Cronin inquired, “Have you nothing to say?” The nurse shook her head. She had no excuse to offer. Then she did speak, and this is what she said, “Give me another chance.”
The story is not about the little boy, the doctor, or the nurse. It is about clemency and understanding. It is about pity and forgiveness. “Forgiveness is our command,” C. Neil Strait declared. “Judgment is not.”
A story which Steve Goodier wrote came to my mind when I read that statement. A young man secretly misappropriated several hundred dollars from the business where he was employed. When the shortage was discovered, the senior partner called the young man into his office.
Immediately, the young man knew he would be fired and sent to prison. His employer asked the worried man if he was guilty. He replied that he was. Then the executive surprised him. “If I keep you in your present capacity,” he said, “can I trust you in the future?”
The astonished employee replied, “Yes, sir, you surely can. I’ve learned my lesson.”
His boss must have detected the repentant man’s sincerity. “I’m not going to press charges and you can continue in your present responsibility,” he said.
Then, he added, “I think you ought to know, however, that you are the second man in this firm who succumbed to temptation but was shown leniency. I was the first. What you have done, I did. The mercy you are receiving, I received.”
Tom Peters once pointed out that corporations and companies should actually reward people for failure, because failure means risk; and without risk there can be no success. If employees are afraid to make mistakes, he said, they will be afraid to make much of anything.
And that’s where forgiveness comes in. I was reminded of a scene from Amos and Andy.
There was a big man who would slap Andy across the chest whenever they met. Finally, Andy got enough of it and said to Amos, “I am fixed for him. I put a stick of dynamite in my vest pocket and the next time he slaps me he is going to get his hand blown off.”
Andy had not realized that at the same time, his own heart would be blown out. The dynamite of hatred may inflict some injury on someone but also blow out our own heart.
The words “forgiving” and “forgiven” are inseparable twins. They go together; one is useless without the other. At the death of Queen Caroline, Lord Chesterfield said a sad thing: “And unforgiving, unforgiven dies.”
I have a friend who was engaged to be married. Three months before the actual weeding, his best friend “stole” his bride-to-be. Today, he is still bitter with the man whom he considered as his brother. “Sure, I’ll forgive that man, when I’m good and ready,” he said.
“What must I forgive?” asked Dr. David Augsburger, author of The Freedom of Forgiveness. “Not just the small things, the trivial irritations, the tactless, thoughtless mistakes others make. But everything. Even the hurts that cut and sear. There are no exemptions!”
That’s a tall order! “Forgiveness is something we discover, more than something we do; it is something we gratefully receive, more than something we faithfully give,” Dr. Augsburger explained.
How many times should you forgive someone? Once, twice, thrice? Or seven times, as apostle once suggested? No, but seventy times seven. That was the message of Jesus Christ when He shared this unforgettable story (Matthew 18:21-35):
A certain poor man owed his boss more than two million pesos. He couldn’t pay, so the boss ordered the man, his wife, and children to be his servants, and the property to be sold to pay the debt. The man, face in the dust, pleaded with his boss, “Please, be patient with me. I will pay it all.”
“Two million pesos? Where will you get that amount?” the boss asked. But then, in pity, he forgave him all his debt.
The man, overjoyed, left his boss. Outside, he met a neighbor who owed him ten thousand pesos. “Pay up,” he demanded. The neighbor replied, “Just be patient, and I’ll have it for you next week.”
“Nothing doing,” said the man and has him thrown in debtors’ prison. When his boss heard the story, he summoned the man again. “You evil wretch,” he said, “here I canceled that tremendous debt for you, and you have the nerve to be unforgiving over ten thousand pesos? You have sentenced yourself! You have to go to prison now!”
When Jesus taught us to pray, He said, “Forgive as we forgive.”
