Forgiveness: Letting Go And Living Free

Letting Go and Living Free

How do you forgive someone who’s taken everything from you? The Rwandan genocide stands as one of the most devastating atrocities of the 20th century. Over the span of just 100 days in 1994, nearly one million people—primarily Tutsis and moderate Hutus—were brutally murdered. Fueled by decades of ethnic division, propaganda, and the assassination of President Juvénal Habyarimana, the nation descended into chaos. Neighbors turned against neighbors. Families were butchered in their homes, often with machetes and makeshift weapons. Even churches—once viewed as sacred havens—became execution sites. As the world watched in silence, Rwanda was left in ashes: shattered infrastructure, broken hearts, and a people devastated by unspeakable loss and betrayal. But out of that darkness, a remarkable light emerged.

In the aftermath of the genocide, during a gacaca court proceeding—a grassroots justice system established to bring reconciliation and accountability—a woman whose entire family had been slaughtered faced her neighbor, the very man who had taken everything from her. He confessed his crimes, begged for mercy, and awaited judgment. What happened next stunned the community. Instead of vengeance, she offered forgiveness.

And then, with trembling grace, she said, “You have no family, and I have none either. I want you to become my son.” This wasn’t a metaphor. She welcomed him into her life, not as a reminder of loss, but as an act of radical love and redemption. This is the kind of grace that shocks the world—because it’s not from the world. It’s from God. It’s easy to admire such a story from a distance. We may nod, whisper “amen,” or marvel at the beauty of such grace. But deep down, many of us are conflicted. We know Jesus commands us to love our enemies. But when we investigate the face of someone who’s wounded us deeply, we don’t see His image—we see the face of a betrayer… even a destroyer.

We’ve all been wounded by others. Some offenses were small and forgettable. Others left scars that still throb with pain. We tell ourselves we’ve moved on, but resentment lingers beneath the surface—resentment that simmers into bitterness, and bitterness that becomes a prison. We may smile on the outside, but inside we nurse silent hopes that those who wronged us will one day feel what we felt… that justice will somehow catch up to them. We’re still bleeding. Forgiveness feels not just unnatural—but impossible. Even as believers, we aren’t immune. Sometimes, our dislike for someone isn’t just personality-based—it’s rooted in deep offense. And though we know the truth—that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us—it often leaves us more ashamed than changed. We read in Scripture: “If you love only those who love you, what reward will you get?” Yet we struggle to forgive, much less love, those who have hurt us most.

But the gospel never leaves us in our wounds. It invites us into something deeper freedom through forgiveness. Today’s message is not just about what forgiveness does for others—it’s about what it sets free in us. Forgiveness is not forgetting the pain, nor is it pretending the offense never happened. It is a decision to release, to entrust justice to God, and to love even when it costs us. It is the pathway to peace, the foundation for prayer, and the evidence of a heart shaped by Christ. So let us walk together through what it means to forgive those created in the image of God. Because when we release others from the debt, we believe they owe us, we often discover we are the ones who are finally free. Forgiveness is hard—but it’s holy. And today, God is inviting us to take a step toward healing. If we are ever going to forgive like that woman did—like Jesus did—we must start not with our pain, but with God’s mercy.

Forgiveness Reflects God’s Heart

Forgiveness often feels impossible—until we lift our eyes from the offense and fix them on the cross. True forgiveness doesn’t flow from our strength; it flows from the very heart of God. As Ephesians 4:31–32 urges:

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”

This isn’t just a command; it’s a calling to respond to others the way God has responded to us—with mercy, compassion, and grace. Yes, if we are in Christ, we are a new creation—“the old is gone, the new is here” (2 Corinthians 5:17). But that does not mean we are now sinless. Apostle Paul reminds us in Romans 3:10–12:

“There is no one righteous, not even one… all have turned away… there is no one who does good, not even one.”

And yet, despite our guilt, God extends forgiveness. As David declares in Psalm 103:10: