C.S. Lewis:

There is all the difference in the world between forgiving and excusing. Forgiveness says “Yes, you have done this thing, but I accept your apology; I will never hold it against you and everything between us two will be exactly as it was before.”But excusing says “I see that you couldn’t help it or didn’t mean it; you weren’t really to blame.” If one was not really to blame then there is nothing to forgive. In that sense forgiveness and excusing are almost opposites.

Of course, in dozens of cases, either between God and man, or between one man and another, there may be a mixture of the two. Part of what seemed at first to be the sins turns out to be really nobody’s fault and is excused; the bit that is left over is forgiven. If you had a perfect excuse, you would not need forgiveness; if the whole of your action needs forgiveness, then there was no excuse for it. But the trouble is that what we call “asking God’s forgiveness” very often really consists in asking God to accept our excuses.

What leads us into this mistake is the fact that there usually is some amount of excuse, some “extenuating circumstances.” We are so very anxious to point these out to God (and to ourselves) that we are apt to forget the really important thing; that is, the bit left over, the bit which the excuses don’t cover, the bit which is inexcusable but not, thank God, unforgivable. And if we forget this, we shall go away imagining that we have repented and been forgiven when all that has really happened is that we have satisfied ourselves with our own excuses. They may be very bad excuses; we are all too easily satisfied about ourselves.

There are two remedies for this danger. One is to remember that God knows all the real excuses very much better than we do. If there are real “extenuating circumstances” there is no fear that he will overlook them. Often he must know many excuses that we have never thought of, and therefore, humble souls will, after death, have the delightful surprise of discovering that on certain occasions they sinned much less than they had thought. All the real excusing he will do.

What we have got to take to him is the inexcusable bit, the sin. We are only wasting time by talking about all the parts which can (we think) be excused. When you go to a doctor you show him the bit of you that is wrong – say, a broken arm. It would be a mere waste of time to keep on explaining that your legs and eyes and throat are all right. You may be mistaken in thinking so, and anyway, if they are really all right, the doctor will know that.

The second remedy is really and truly to believe in the forgiveness of sins. A great deal of our anxiety to make excuses comes from not really believing in it, from thinking that God will not take us to himself again unless he is satisfied that some sort of case can be made out in our favor. But that would not be forgiveness at all.

Real forgiveness means looking steadily at the sin, the sin that is left over without any excuse, after all allowances have been made, and seeing it in all its horror, dirt, meanness, and malice, and nevertheless being wholly reconciled to the man who has done it. That, and only that, is forgiveness, and that we can always have from God if we ask for it.

- C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory, 178-81

I need this reminder from Bob Kellemen’s book, God’s Healing for Life’s Losses: How to Find Hope When You’re Hurting:

When life dashes our dreams and seems to kill our hopes, we must remind ourselves that we’ve read the end of the story. We need to listen like we would to Paul Harvey’s The Rest of the Story.

Many sports fans, if they can’t watch the big game live, tape it. Then they swear all their friends to secrecy. “Don’t you dare spoil it for me! Don’t tell me who won. I want to watch it and enjoy the thrill of the whole game without knowing the end.”

I guess I’m odd. When I can’t watch the big game live, I tape it, but I watch the end first! I’m a major fan of the Chicago Bulls. Back when Michael Jordan was leading them to six NBA titles, I taped one of the championship games between the Bulls and the Phoenix Suns. First, I watched the end. The Bulls won! Then I rewound the tape and watched the entire game. When the Bulls were behind 17 points, I never panicked. I never threw bricks at the TV.

Normally I would have left the room if they were behind by that much. I would have told my son to call me only if the Bulls tied the game. I couldn’t take watching them struggle. But not this time. I knew the end of the story. So I could handle the ups and downs of the game, knowing the grand result.

Whether or not you agree with my sports-watching philosophy, you can see the benefits we gain from knowing the end of God’s story – the end of our story. We can survive life’s losses and we can even thrive through God’s hope when we remember the end of the story.

We’ve read the end of the story. And we win! God wins!

We’ve read the end of the story.

And we win! God win!

In the end:

• Healing triumphs over losses.
• Hope triumphs over hurt.
• Grace triumphs over works.
• Faith triumphs over doubt.
• Hope triumphs over despair.
• Love triumphs over separation.
• Life triumphs over death.
• Good triumphs over evil.
• God triumphs over the devil.

In counseling, I often come across two kinds of people:

Some people think they are true Christians, but are probably not. They need a dose of gospel confrontation.

Other people doubt they are true Christians, but probably are. They need a dose of gospel comfort.

Sam’s Story

Sam is a twenty-something who is upset with God because of a recent downturn in his business profits. He waltzes into my office, mad at God and (by extension) the church.

I ask a few diagnostic questions, and I quickly discover that Sam is living with his girlfriend. He rarely attends church. His biggest goal in life is to make a lot of money.

In short, Sam is not living the life of a Christian. I fail to see any genuine fruit of repentance. The more I talk to him, the more I realize that he is not concerned about his lack of commitment to the Christian community; neither is he upset about his misplaced priorities or sexual immorality.

I ask him some questions about his spiritual condition. He tells me about a decision he made at a youth event ten years ago. He raised his hand, filled out a card, and got his “ticket to heaven.”  He insists that he is truly saved because of this experience.

What does Sam need? The gospel.

Sam needs to be confronted with the lack of fruit in his life. He needs to see his life compared to the holiness of God. He needs to hear that true salvation always leads to good works. The absence of fruit in his life indicates that Sam is not a true believer.

I urge him to examine his own life to see if he is in the faith. I urge him to see himself in light of God’s holiness. I urge him to repent of his sins and trust in Jesus. By pointing to the fruitlessness of his life, I confront him with the gospel truth that Jesus Christ transforms us into new people. Sam is comfortable in his sin and needs to be confronted with the gospel.

Jenny’s Story

Jenny is a twenty-something who meets me and my wife in my office. She has a sweet spirit and a naturally introspective personality. She tells us that she feels guilty about the sins she commits daily. She weeps about the ways she fails the Lord. Her constant struggles against sin are causing her to doubt if she is saved.

I ask a few diagnostic questions and discover that Jenny is very active in church. She sincerely wants to please the Lord. She is very aware of her sinfulness, and that is why she fears she doesn’t have enough fruit to show for her salvation. Looking at her life, I see fruits of repentance and faith everywhere.

What does Jenny need? The gospel.

But I take a different road with Jenny than I did with Sam. I challenged Sam to examine his life and see that the fruit of his life indicates a diseased tree. He needed to repent and trust in Jesus. I confronted Sam with the gospel that leads to a transformation of life.

But with Jenny, the last thing I want to do is say, “Look at your life! It’s obvious you love the Lord. You do good works. You repent of your sins.” Once I tell Jenny to examine her life, I’ve condemned her. “I haven’t done enough to prove my salvation,” she will say.

Instead, I take her back to the truth of Christ’s righteousness covering our sinfulness. Look to Christ, I tell her. Remember that your salvation is not dependent on you, not even on the works you do after you are a Christian. Christ is your redeemer. Christ is your righteousness. Jenny is conflicted about her salvation and needs to be comforted. So I point her to Christ.

Confrontation and Comfort

We all need the gospel.

Some people think they are Christians because of a one-time decision that never bore genuine fruit in life. They need gospel confrontation: the gospel changes us.

Others doubt they are Christians because they recognize their sinfulness. They need gospel comfort: the gospel saves us.

The gospel should comfort the conflicted and confront the comfortable.