by Terra Koch

 

At some point, we’ve all probably said it. Bumping into someone in the grocery store, running late for a meeting, declining a social invitation. We teach our kids to say they’re sorry to their siblings when they have fought over a toy or called someone a name, saying, “Say it like you mean it!” Sometimes we say it without even really thinking about it.

 

When I was a foreign exchange student in high school, I traveled to France and spent the first couple of weeks fumbling my way through the language and customs. Apparently, I was apologizing a lot. “Je suis dĂ©solĂ©â€ had become my catchphrase and I hadn’t even realized it, until an English speaker asked me, “Terra, why are you always dĂ©solĂ©?” To which, of course, I really had no reply! I learned the importance in that region of differentiating between “excusez-moi” and “pardon” for more minor mistakes where no offense was intended and unlikely to have been caused. This isn’t a French lesson, and since high school was a decade . . . or two . . . ago for me, I am not qualified to give you one. The significance of that interaction did carry with me through the years and since then I have tried to be more intentional with the words I choose to use and the meaning that they can carry.

 

With time comes life experiences, the ones that really begin to put your understanding of God, his Word, yourself, and the world to the test. There are many, many times when we utter a quick “excuse me” or “pardon me.” They rattle from our mouths effortlessly. Then there are those moments like when a dear friend has lost a loved one, we’ve wronged someone we care about, we have done something we know we shouldn’t have done—and it’s time to face the repercussions. In those times, we can barely get the words out, no matter how hard we try. Our heart pounds, as our stomach is in knots, and we have a lump in our throat. We really have to dig down deep and find strength to do what we need to do. Often this is the kind of strength we can only get through prayer, time spent in Scripture, and walking with Jesus.

 

Broken and Contrite

Why can this be so hard? To come to another person, and ask for their forgiveness? To admit we chose the wrong thing, whether we knew it was wrong or not, that we messed up and caused offense or grievance? It is as if we lay ourselves bare as we open up ourselves to another’s judgment, their response to our plea for their forgiveness yet unknown. Yet we are called to this act of love and sacrifice throughout the Scriptures.

 

Last Sunday at Christ’s Church, our lead pastor, Brad Wilson, continued in our current teaching series, “Say the Words.” To check out his message last week you can click here.

After his adulterous sin with Bathsheba, King David writes in Psalm 51:17, “My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise” (NIV).

 

What does it mean to have a broken and contrite heart? The words translated as “broken” and “contrite” in this passage are the Hebrew words sabar and daka, respectively, meaning “to break, rend violently, wreck, perish” and “to be broken into pieces, to be crushed.”

 

In Leviticus 26 we find sabar used again in verse 13:

“I will put my dwelling place among you, and I will not abhor you. I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people. I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt so that you would no longer be slaves to the Egyptians; I broke the bars of your yoke and enabled you to walk with heads held high” (Leviticus 26:11-13, NIV, emphasis mine).

 

When we think of a “broken heart” or a “broken spirit” we often think of the sorrow we experience when someone has hurt us deeply or has taken our joy from us. But when God breaks our heart, he is purifying our spirit, rendering out those things that keep us from him, ridding us of our idols, as he longs to be with us, and walk among us again. He takes away what never satisfies and gives us joy that cannot be taken from us. He breaks the yoke of our sin through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

 

Set Free

Looking to not only Christ’s sacrifice, but also his example, Jesus lived a blameless life, and had nothing for which to ask forgiveness. Yet his words on the cross are brought to my heart as he cried out, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34, ESV). He asked his father’s forgiveness on our behalf, even as the crowd hated and crucified him.

 

Jesus gave us our greatest commandment in response to the Pharisee’s question:

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments” (Matthew 22:36-40, NIV).

 

Contrition is defined in a theological context as “sorrow for and detestation of sin with a true purpose of amendment, arising from a love of God.” When we ask for forgiveness from God, with sincere and repentant hearts, we can be forgiven through Jesus Christ, his act of sacrifice and love for us. Corrie ten Boom is quoted saying,

 

“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover the prisoner was you.”

 

Someone else’s journey to the freedom of forgiveness and healing may start with your willingness to look at someone you’ve hurt as a child of God, same as you, and give the offering of your sincere remorse. Your act of sacrifice for your neighbor might be laying down your pride, fear, sense of justice, or whatever it is that is holding you back from admitting your wrongs and asking for forgiveness. Your act of love may simply be to say to another, “I’m sorry.”

 

Terra Koch is a mom of four boys on a small farm. She serves on the women’s leadership team at Christ’s Church.