The more I learn, the less I know. I think of that old adage often. It’s been attributed to any number of folks from Socrates to Einstein, but apparently no one knows for sure who came up with it.
However, the source of that paradox is not nearly as important as understanding it. And I do. In fact, I’ve adopted it as both a comfort and a challenge—I’m excited to keep learning, and I hope I never stop.
As an alcoholic in recovery, I know that I must keep growing spiritually, and one of the deepest subjects I’ve ever considered is the concept of forgiveness—both giving and accepting it. That was impossible while I was still drinking, but in sobriety, I’ve thought and read a lot about it.
I recently recalled a conversation my dad and I had about it before he passed away, and he brought up the story of Joseph, who was sold into slavery by his brothers, then falsely accused and imprisoned. However, after years in the dungeon, he was given the opportunity to interpret Pharaoh’s dream, who immediately placed him as second in command, overseeing the country’s efforts to stockpile food for the coming famine. His God-given interpretation of that dream saved the lives of the entire Egyptian population, as well as the people who lived along its borders. And now, his brothers stood before him. They did not recognize him at all—until he spoke.
Imagine their terror. Surely Joseph would have them put to death! But instead, he forgave them, and vowed to provide for their needs, and the needs of their little ones, for the rest of their lives.
“Son, the concept of forgiveness that Joseph shows here has many significant features that our present-day forgiveness lacks,” Dad told me. “The Hebrew word used in this story is nasa, and it has a wide range of meanings, including ‘lift up,’ ‘raise high,’ ‘pardon,’ ‘bear,’ ‘exalt,’ ‘restore,’ and ‘support.’ In fact, Isaiah 53:4 states this about Jesus, the Suffering Servant: ‘He has borne [literally ‘took up’] our griefs and carried our sorrows.’
“You see, Joseph went far beyond making a mere promise to provide for them and their little ones in the future. He would lift them up, helping to restore them to good standing before God and man. And that’s exactly what God does, through Christ, for those who rebel against Him! He restores us ultimately to Him, and to the position we had before sin.”
I remember my dad’s eyes welling up in tears. “In that same way, when we forgive those who wrong us, we have the tremendous responsibility to lift up and restore them to God and to their fellow men.”
Why, that’s redemption! I thought. When I truly forgive someone, I am duty-bound to do everything in my power to help them back into a right relationship with God—and all those around them. I am responsible for this. But I cannot possibly work for their restoration if I still resent them, even a little bit.
“‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do’” (Luke 23:34).
“‘For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses’” (Matthew 6:14–15).
When I truly forgive someone, I am bound to that person for life. I will do my best to help them reconnect with a loving Father who longs to restore them into His image and likeness.
There is so much I don’t know. But I’m learning. I miss my dad.
