“Indeed what is commonly called ‘sensitiveness’ is the most powerful engine of domestic tyranny, sometimes lifelong tyranny.”
C.S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, page 17
I have been intrigued lately by the use of the word “trespasses” in the Lord’s Prayer. As in, “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
The Greek word here (because the original New Testament language is Common Greek), opheilēma is not the word for sin, but rather an ancient Greek word that includes sin—but also includes far more. According to Bill Mounce, opheilēma includes every debt; everything that is due, every delinquency, every offense, every fault in another person, and…every sin.
1 John 1:7, by contrast, says that “…the blood of Jesus his son cleanses us from every [hamartias] (sin).” A bit more straightforward. At least on its face.
In and around The Lord’s Prayer we are called to not just forgive the sins perpetrated against us, and not just every debt that remains unpaid, but everything that offends our sensibilities; all that is a slight to our dignity; every prickly occurrence that happens to us which we perceive as undeserved.
Being passed over for a promotion, for example, may hurt deeply, but isn’t necessarily a sin on the part of the decision-maker. Not being invited to the game night or the dinner out when a few close friends get together for games or a meal doesn’t mean they sinned in leaving me out this time around, but being left may hurt just the same.
Being sinned against may be fairly unambiguous. But being trespassed against? Less so. Often being trespassed against depends on what is going on within me. My vanity. My level of sensitivity. My unresolved insecurity. My loneliness. My personal, internal sense of what I am owed or what sort of preferential treatment I have coming to me. In other words, personal, internal issues for which I have not yet taken full ownership.
Hard to admit, but the offense may be an identity crisis in which I am making someone else responsible for my own internal struggles with who I am. And who I am in Christ. Being trespassed against may occur not by the sin of another against me, but by un-Christlikeness lurking within my own heart. The fallenness in my nature for which I have not yet taken responsibility. Does the offense stem from my unresolved vanity? My sense of entitlement? “Someone such as I ought not to be overlooked; ought not to be treated thus! And they should have known that! So I will feel justified in nursing this unforgiveness toward them, perhaps punishing them in my signature passive-aggressive way. That’ll show them!” And yet another person gets to live in my head rent-free. While they go on about their business, quite possibly entirely unaware.
Once again, Jesus—if we are really listening—leaves no wiggle room. Forgiving sin may require a conversation. Forgiving an offense that stems from my “sensitiveness” (as Lewis called it); may be a matter of surrendering yet more to “being transformed by the renewing of my mind” (Romans 12:2) until “Christ is formed in me” (Galatians 4:19) because I have more fully embraced the exhortation to “look not to my own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4).
And just to add insult to injury, here’s a reminder of a word from Jesus that drives the point home with far more precision than we care to receive:
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
Matthew 5:43-48 NIV
