I sometimes wonder whether we’re better off attending to events that don’t make the headlines than those that do. The news often leaves me thinking the world’s gone mad and feeling little hope for the future. But it’s also the case that, on a Saturday afternoon not long ago, a bunch of skilled volunteers showed up at a local “repair cafe” to help less handy members of the community extend the lives of broken household items—for free. It’s also the case that, on a recent Sunday, a Bushcare group met to weed a nature reserve, and enjoy each other’s company. It’s also the case that, before starting work on Wednesday September 16, employees across Australia attended a “morning briefing” about why they should, and how they could, bring peace to their workplaces.
On that day, there were headlines about scientists creating mice with part-human brains, about Trump making a $2.8bn arms sale to Israel, and about AI scraping “everything you put online”. Meanwhile the briefing, which workers across Australia attended online and in-person, sought to help attendees be “salt and light and peacemakers” in their workplaces and beyond. Though run by a Christian organisation and aimed at supporting Christians to “live out their faith” at work, the host welcomed anyone from any walk of life, regardless of belief.
Conflict as a Sign of Flourishing?
After reading Matthew 18:21-35, guest speaker Dan Anderson—who completed his doctorate on the topic of forgiveness and directs the Lachlan Macquarie Institute—talked about how conflict can be a sign of flourishing. The goal shouldn’t be to avoid it entirely, but to strive for the healthy kind that builds and deepens trust (and happens to fuel performance, too).
In the case of serious and painful conflict, where someone has been wronged, forgiveness might be needed to restore a relationship, Anderson said. That doesn’t mean denying the “wrongness of the wrong”, but it does involve a commitment to turn from the emotions and actions the wrongdoer deserves. It might be easier, and more common, to withhold forgiveness, or at least to place a limit on it. But the verses Anderson began with challenged attendees to do otherwise:
Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times. (Matthew 18:21–22)
Peter likely viewed this as “bizarre” and was “incredulous”, Anderson said. He likely thought seven times would be generous, if not excessive. Jesus’ response, which was effectively “keep on going until forgiveness is complete”, would have been “staggering”.
How Many Times Would You Forgive a Colleague?
If those attending the talk were to ask those back at the office how many times they’d forgive a colleague, I wonder what they’d say. How many times should you forgive someone who wrongs you? The question presupposes a limit; Jesus’ reply suggests otherwise. I suspect Peter’s presupposition remains widespread today. I also suspect that while there are extreme situations where forgiveness might seem impossible, even unreasonable—there are many more where the “punishment” of withholding forgiveness outweighs the smallness of the “crime”. The wrong might be a speck, the refusal to forgive, a plank.
Just as news headlines that draw our attention to dramatic extremes can distract us from everyday norms, extreme scenarios can distract us from more usual ones. It would have been easy for those who spoke at the briefing to get caught up in extreme examples, for attendees to come away more focussed on when forgiveness might not be achievable than when it is—fascinating as that might be, I’m glad they didn’t.
I’m glad because I suspect the challenge, especially in the context of the workplace, more often lies less in the nature of the wrong, or even the number of wrongs, than in more ordinary difficulties—a habit of holding on to indignation, a reluctance to let go, a tendency to think of ourselves as better than we are. We might struggle even in relation to the most trivial transgressions—the lateness we take as a sign of deliberate disrespect, the well-meaning advice we take as interference—because the worse another person is, the better we can feel about ourselves. Holding a colleague’s failings—or perceived failings—against them might also benefit our standing in the office pecking order. It’s another reason why, in many workplaces, forgiving someone more than once might be surprising behaviour, while withholding forgiveness might be the norm.
A Higher Standard
Tegan Johnson, a senior public servant and workplace policy expert who spoke after Anderson, noted that while “we don’t get to choose, necessarily, the workplace culture that we walk into”, those who anchor their identities in Christ can hold themselves to a higher standard. I like the way Johnson said “can”; not because “can” versus “should” might allow wriggle-room to make a higher standard optional, but because it carries less a sense of doing so out of obligation, and more a sense of wanting to and being able to.
When a person’s identity isn’t in their work, because it’s secure in Christ, they can stop viewing work as a competition, Johnson said. She continued:
I think it means we can forgive other people when they wrong us [and] we don’t have to wait for them to show kindness … it means we can be more generous to people, even if they treat us unfairly.
Workplace standards might place a limit on the number of strikes a person has until they’re out; cultural norms might set similar expectations when it comes to interpersonal forgiveness; but those who have received Christ’s forgiveness can go beyond what’s expected and strive for what is radical.
The easiest way to feel—and be—generous, is to have been on the receiving end of generosity; the easiest way to forgive, is to have been on the receiving end of forgiveness. And there’s no greater forgiveness than that which God has lavished on us.
A Call to Action
After highlighting the “staggering” nature of Jesus’ answer, Anderson went on to explain why history has not forgotten it:
Here’s the crucial thing: I don’t think Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness—because it is dramatic and major—I don’t think it would have had the impact that it has had [on] our culture, unless it was teaching that was backed up by his own life. Whatever you make of the claim … [of Jesus’ divinity], his disciples worshiped him as God. And so his teaching about forgiveness became connected into a picture of what God is like. And that whole picture is painted starkly in Jesus’ determination that he would die for his followers.”
Anderson noted that Hannah Arendt called Jesus the “discoverer of the role of forgiveness in the realm of human affairs”—a “wild” claim, especially from a Jewish secular philosopher; but one with considerable supporting evidence.
“In his death, Jesus puts on display the fact that God never minimises the wrongness of wrong,” Anderson continued. And because Jesus acts and speaks as God:
[I]t’s God, the one who has been wronged, the one who has been offended, not the offender, who suffers the cost … [and] makes a way for us to begin again.
That impact ripples out through the earliest Christians, through the first churches, through the ancient world; it turns cultures upside down; and it nails forgiveness into the heart of our culture The hope for us today … [is] that what Jesus has put on display, will be on display in your life.
After a Q&A session with Johnson and Anderson, attendees went their separate ways.
None of this made the news. But it’s nice to be reminded that, behind the headlines, there are not only people who regularly gather to repair others’ belongings; and people who gather to tend to nature; there are people who gather to talk about how they can repair and tend to relationships, who go to work hoping to extend forgiveness, make peace, show love.
