I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people. No longer will they teach their neighbor, or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’ because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest. For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.” (NIV)
You need to forgive yourself. I’ve heard this line many times from people who love me. They’ve seen that I am remorseful about something big or that I am holding onto something small, and they want me to accept that everything is okay. They want me to know that I can move on and not carry the burden of shame, guilt or embarrassment any longer – they want me to give myself freedom.
But this has always been hard for me. Days, months, or years will pass, and I will still hold an ache in my heart for the times I’ve hurt others, the times I haven’t followed through, the times I wasn’t honorable. The inability to forgive myself nests into my mind and body the way mud squishes into the tread of a shoe; it leaves no corner untouched, and it seems as though I will never again be clean, never be new.
In Psalm 51, David writes, “For I know my transgressions and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight” (vv.3-4, ESV).
What I find interesting – and different from our current society – is that when David falls short of participating in unity with God, or sins, we don't see him write an apology to others, nor does he say that he will be able to forgive himself as he heals over time. Rather, David recognizes that his transgressions are acts against something much bigger than this world: they are acts against God. Our God is a protective Father, and when we act against his children, we ultimately answer to HIM.
David knows something that I can easily forget: because all transgression is ultimately against God, only God can ultimately forgive. Even as God calls us to prioritize reconciliation with our brothers (Matthew 5:24), pastor John Mark Comer reminds us that Jesus is the one who washes us clean–not ourselves–and, instead of being distracted by that impossible effort, we must submit to God and let him work his forgiveness through us.
But this can be harder said than done. Somehow, forgiveness from the Lord of all creation seems less plausible than self-forgiveness. But what God wants us to understand is that only he can make things right. Only he can nurture our hearts. Only he can speak ultimate truth and life over us, and he wants to be let into that space. He knows that forgiveness can only come from the true source, and he wants to free you from the self-inflicted burden of trying to heal your own pain.
Do you believe that God wants to lend you forgiveness and peace?
Do you believe that God has already washed you clean? Yes, you.
Do you believe that your transgressions will never be enough to make you unworthy?
Jesus came to wipe the slate clean. He came to tell us that the new Kingdom is coming and to ask us to lay our transgressions down and look to the Father.
“I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more,” reads today’s verse. God tells us that in his new covenant, he will no longer retrieve the memory of our sin. Our transgressions are behind us, are behind him, and he looks at us as we are: made new in his sight.
Lord, let me reach for you like David. He says, “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow” (Psalm 51:7, ESV). Father, forgive me of my trespasses. Wash me clean. Lay down my desire for control and usher in your authorship. Give me a desire to see myself made new, as you see me, and let not the enemy keep me distracted in a search for forgiveness, for Easter is coming. Let me not take your forgiveness for granted; help me look more and more like you each day. Amen.