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The Freedom of Forgiveness


The Poison and the Antidote: Finding True Freedom in Forgiveness

The Thorn in My Own Foot

I want to tell you a story about a betrayal. It didn’t happen on a grand political stage, but in the quiet, sacred space of a church committee meeting. A brother I had broken bread with, prayed with, and trusted with my family’s well-being, looked me in the eye and used a confidential pain I had shared to orchestrate my removal from a ministry post. The vote passed. The silence that followed was louder than any shout. That night, as I sat in my study overlooking the hazy lights of Pretoria, a familiar, bitter brew began to simmer in my soul. I was drinking the poison, and I desperately wanted him to feel its fatal effects. I wanted him to choke on it.

This is the human heart, is it not? We clutch the hot coal of resentment, believing we’re branding our enemy, only to find our own hands seared and scarred. The African proverb you’ve heard is painfully, brilliantly true: “Holding a grudge is drinking poison and hoping your enemy dies” and “The path of forgiveness is cutting the thorn from your own foot, not waiting for the other to remove his.” But here in South Africa, we have a complex relationship with this truth. We witnessed the superhuman forgiveness of a Mandela, who walked out of Robben Island after 27 years and spoke of reconciliation, not retaliation. Yet, in our daily lives—in our homes, our churches, and our politics—we often find ourselves perpetually sipping from a poisonous cup, waiting for an apology that may never come, while our own spirits waste away.

Today, we must go on a journey. We will investigate this poison, confront the counterfeit versions of forgiveness that leave us enslaved, and discover the only true antidote found in the person of Jesus Christ. This is not a call to sentimental weakness, but to revolutionary strength. It is a call to cut the thorn from our own foot and walk free.

The Poison We Prefer: Why We Cling to Our Grudges

Let’s define our terms clearly. What is this “poison”? Biblically, it is the root of bitterness that springs up and defiles many (Hebrews 12:15). It is the refusal to cancel a debt. In our pain, we mistakenly believe that our resentment is a form of justice, a moral ledger where the other person’s suffering will balance our own. We think, “If I let this go, I am saying what they did was okay.” This is a lie.

Modern research from right here in South Africa, from North-West University, reveals a profound insight: the inability to forgive ourselves or others is deeply linked to a deficit in emotional and spiritual intelligence. The study found that true forgiveness—whether of self or other—requires the hard, intelligent work of accepting full responsibility, acknowledging guilt, and refusing to see oneself solely as a victim. It is a rational decision to treat yourself and the other as valuable, to cancel the debt. We prefer the poison because it feels easier than this rigorous, costly work. It allows us to remain the wounded hero of our own story, rather than the freed prisoner of Christ’s narrative.

Our Cultural Crossroads: The Saint and the Sinner

Here,we must sound a prophetic alarm against a pervasive error that fuels our bitterness, both in the global church and in our own hearts. It is the comfortable mantra, “Well, we’re all just sinners.” This phrase, often traced to a misinterpretation popularized centuries ago, has been used to normalize ongoing sin and soften the radical change Christ brings. Scripture draws a stark, uncompromising line. It speaks of the “godly” and the “ungodly,” the “righteous” and the “wicked,” the “saint” and the sinner.

A“sinner” in the Bible is not merely someone who stumbles; it is one whose life is characterized by rebellion, who lives under the dominion of sin, who is “lawless and rebellious…unholy and profane” (1 Timothy 1:9). The believer in Jesus Christ has been fundamentally transferred from that kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of light (Colossians 1:13). We are new creations (2 Corinthians 5:17). To call a saint a “sinner” is to blaspheme the work of the Holy Spirit and chain them to an old, dead identity. This false identity makes forgiveness feel impossible. “If I am just a sinner, how can I ever truly forgive? If they are just a sinner, why should I ever expect change?” It locks us in a hopeless cycle.

But the Gospel declares a superior truth: In Christ, you are not a sinner. You are a saint who sins. You are a child of God who sometimes acts like an orphan. This distinction is everything. It means the power of sin has been broken. It means you have a new nature capable of Christ-like forgiveness. It means you can cut the thorn out, not because you are morally superior, but because you are spiritually new.

The Antidote Unveiled: The Life, Death, and Life of Christ

So where do we find the strength for this surgery? We look to the one who is both the surgeon and the medicine—Jesus Christ. We often rush to the cross for forgiveness (and rightly so), but we skip the 33 years of life that preceded it. Why did Jesus live? He lived to become the model, the blueprint of the new humanity. He is the “firstborn from the dead,” the first of a new race, the ultimate New Human. In His life, we see forgiveness incarnate.

He dined with those society called “sinners,” not to condone their sin, but to demonstrate that forgiveness and new life were available. He looked at Peter, who would deny Him three times, and saw not a traitor, but a future rock of the church. And on the cross, He uttered the universe-altering words: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). He did not wait for the Roman soldiers or the religious leaders to repent. He released the debt. He cut the thorn from His own foot, absorbing all the poison of human hatred into His own body, and neutralizing it forever.

His resurrection is the divine receipt that the debt has been fully paid—both the debt we owed God and the debts others owe us. When you struggle to forgive, you are declaring, in effect, that Christ’s payment was insufficient for that particular sin against you. You are insisting on collecting a debt He has already cancelled. This is the heart of the matter.

The Mandela Moment and The Messiah Model

We rightly venerate Nelson Mandela. His emotional intelligence—his ability to understand the fears of his oppressors, to empathize without excusing—was a key to national reconciliation. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was a bold, earthly attempt to cut thorns from a nation’s foot. But Mandela’s powerful example points to a greater reality. His forgiveness was political and personal. Christ’s forgiveness is cosmic and creative. Mandela’s work aimed to heal a nation. Christ’s work creates a new humanity.

As a South African, I see our land groaning under new burdens—the bitter fruits of corruption, the broken promises that lead to load-shedding and service delivery protests. The temptation is to nurse a national grudge, to drink the communal poison of cynicism and rage. But the church’s call is to model a different way. We are called to be colonies of the new creation in the midst of the old. Our forgiveness is not a political strategy; it is a prophetic declaration that a greater Kingdom is here.

The Surgery of Surrender: How to Cut the Thorn Out

This is not passive. It is active, painful, and deliberate surgery. It is a war for your own freedom. Here is the battlefield strategy:

1. Define the Debt: Name the wrong specifically. “They betrayed my confidence. They stole from me. They abandoned me.” Don’t spiritualize it away. Jesus, on the cross, acknowledged the specific sin (“they do not know what they are doing”).

2. Drag it to the Cross: In prayer, consciously take that specific debt and nail its IOU to the cross of Christ. Say, “Lord, this debt of betrayal, of pain, of R______, I relinquish my right to collect it. I place it on Your account, which You have already settled. I choose to release them from my personal court of justice.”

3. Destroy the Mental Reels: When the memory plays again, with all its hurt, do not simply re-watch it. Interrupt the film. Speak over it: “That debt is cancelled. I have released it. I am cutting this thorn out now.” This is the renewing of your mind (Romans 12:2).

4. Determine to Do Good: This is the final fortress of freedom. Prayerfully ask, “What is one practical, Christ-honoring action I can take that is not conditioned on their repentance?” It may be a silent prayer of blessing for them. It may be refusing to engage in slander about them. It may be a simple, neutral act of courtesy. This is not about restoring trust (that is earned) but about asserting your freedom.

Objection Anticipated: “But you don’t know what they did! What about justice?” Ah, justice. This is crucial. Forgiveness is not the negation of justice; it is the transfer of justice from your hands to God’s. “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord” (Romans 12:19). You are not saying the act was okay. You are saying, “God, You are a perfect Judge. I trust You to handle this justly, either at the cross if they repent, or at the throne if they do not. I will not be Your deputy.”

Conclusion: Walking in the New Creation

My story did not end in that dark study. The journey with my brother was long. Reconciliation was slow, and trust had to be rebuilt with the strong timbers of mercy, action by action. But the surgery began the night I finally prayed, “Father, forgive him, and forgive me for drinking this poison. I release him to You. Cut this thorn from me.”

The path of forgiveness is the path of the New Human, Jesus Christ. It is the only path that leads from the prison of past pain to the wide-open fields of present peace. That thorn in your foot—the betrayal, the insult, the deep wound—is not part of you. It is a foreign object. You have the knife of the Spirit in your hand. You have the model of the Messiah before your eyes. You have the power of the Resurrection in your heart.

Stop drinking the poisonous potion of perpetual resentment. Today, by the grace that first forgave you, perform the surgery. Cut the thorn out. The wound will heal. And you will walk free.

Amen.


https://open.spotify.com/episode/6FPLRLr7TEljlLYKPNXvnL?si=xDTUjfI9TYu8341wpff5WQ&context=spotify%3Ashow%3A00aDj3KbY5k63c31qBSpGj 


https://podcasts.apple.com/za/podcast/the-freedom-of-forgiveness/id1506692775?i=1000741468719

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