Forgiving Our Fathers and Mothers, by Leslie Leyland Fields and Dr. Jill Hubbard.

“God does not excuse sin, does not just wipe it away with a knowing wink, a nod to our earthen frames, sweeping our human humus under the rug of his Largesse. Sin and harm and evil must be dealt with completely. Not ignored or denied or excused away. Excusing your parents is not forgiving your parents.”

Next time you are in a public setting and someone casually says, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting for the past hour,” try to offering, “I forgive you.” Most of us can’t. It feels too awkward. However, it’s actually a much more honest response when someone has inconvenienced or hurt us. Saying I forgive you–and then actually forgiving them acknowledges that a mistake was made and that you have chosen to release them of any lingering relational debt.  

What happens when the someone who hurts us happens to be our mother or father? And what if they never even think to admit that they were wrong or ask for our forgiveness? According to the Scripture, our responsibility before the Lord is still to forgive them.

I have been disciplined about forgiving my mom and dad. I have seen what individuals look like toward the end of their lives when they refuse to forgive and I do not want to land there. I was totally on board with Leyland Fields’ premise. Until I got to chapter 6 where the authors up the ante.

“But even when our parents don’t feel worthy of our honor and respect, God is worthy of our honor and respect. And He’s tied the two together: Himself as the sovereign Creator God, and our parents as our divinely chosen human creators. So when we honor our parents, we honor God.” (p 118)

Suddenly, I had to fight the impulse to throw the book across the room. My carnality was screaming, “I’ve done all of this forgiving, and reconciling, and coming to peace with my parents’ limitations and now I’m supposed to honor them?!” Apparently I’ve got some more work to do.

This is not a book for the faint of heart. Nor should you read it in public places unless you don’t mind crying in front of total strangers. Leyland Fields writes about her father’s final days:

“I touched his shoulder through the thin jersey, lightly and watched his face. I held my fingers there for a moment, and he blinked: then eyes opened. He looked directly at me without moving his head. Seeing me, his eyes filled with tears and, still looking, he began to weep, a silent, shaking weeping, his whole body shuddering as he sobbed, his head still lying on his hands. I stood frozen for a moment. I had never seen my father weep. I was torn in half. My face crumpled. I kept my hand on his shoulder to comfort his racking body, and there we were, bodies touching, both shaking in silent sobs, our faces lost in sadness and grief. I knew he could not speak or name the sorrows that shook him, but it seemed to me we wept, the two of us, for his life, for his long, sad life, for his breaking body, his tangled mind, and a tongue that was now nearly stilled. I cried that I had not seen him sooner. We were crying for all that was lost to both of us.” (p 56)

So many of us have been decimated by our parents’ failures. For us to be truly free from the hurts, disappointments, and wounds that remain, we need to totally, completely, freely forgive them. If you need to be convinced, give this a read.

The book is grounded in Scripture and fleshed out by real life experiences. Though normally I feel bored by the study questions at the end of many chapters, the authors have thoughtfully crafted probing questions which move us toward the cross.

The book can be purchased on Amazon.

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