"Go and sin no more"--How Self-Forgiveness Leads to Change

 In my fourteen years, so far, in prison, I have encountered numerous prisoners who appear to have no remorse for what they've done. I suspect that many of these do, in fact, regret their past crimes and the harms they've caused, but they feel it'd be a weakness to display regret or remorse. A few, undoubtedly, actually have no regrets. 

Yet, as I look around me, at the sea of men on every side, I'm struck by the amount of pain and hurt weighing these men down. It's difficult to carry around the pain of causing others pain. When we hurt others, even indirectly, we damage our own souls too. It's no wonder some of these men cannot break the chains of their addictions. It's no wonder some of them live into the belief that they are worthless and will never amount to anything more than a criminal. 

When society and many of our victims want us to rot in hell, it's difficult to do the inner work that is required for change. It's difficult to forgive yourself when others think you don't deserve forgiveness. Sometimes it's easier to wear our shame like a mantle and to embrace our brokenness rather than to have the courage to say to ourselves, "I forgive you. Now, go and sin no more." 

If we're not careful, forgiving ourselves can feel like and be perceived as dismissal of the pain we've caused. It can look like justification or absolution. It is neither though. Forgiving ourselves begins with honesty and responsibility. It means committing to only deal with the truth and to be willing to say with all sincerity, "I did that." 

Forgiving oneself is a necessary tool to battling the insidious and crippling power of shame. But self-forgiveness is not a one-time thing. It is an ongoing action, a necessary action in the journey of healing and redemption. 

It's difficult to look at oneself honestly and to believe forgiveness is possible. Some things feel impossible to forgive. How can you forgive yourself when the people you've harmed are still suffering? It can feel a bit arrogant to even try. It might be easier to sit in the shame instead.

Self-forgiveness, though, is critical to change. And those we've hurt deserve us to change. They deserve us putting in the difficult and heart-wrenching work of admitting to ourselves and others the truth of our actions and their consequences. Without that honest output of self-reflection, I don't believe we can truly change. We remain, instead, bound to our past, increasing our chances of repeating it. 

Although I long for the forgiveness of others, I know I have no right to ask for it. Forgiveness is a grace, and grace is undeserved. I'm quite certain that I don't deserve forgiveness. But knowing I don't deserve others' forgiveness does not mean that I should resign myself to brokenness. Even if others may never forgive me, I can begin by forgiving myself. 

I'll always hold regret for my past--it is the guardrail that keeps me from driving off the same cliff. But I can live with regret while still forgiving myself. It's necessary, in fact, if I'm going to be the man I should have been all along. 

I offer myself forgiveness for my past wrongs, but I do so responsibly. I only do so after committing to deal only with truth, to accept full responsibility for the harms I caused, and by recognizing that I have failed to live up to the dignity and divine image God has given to each one of us. 

I know I can do better, and I am committed to. But in order to live into that reality, I have to learn to let go of the shame and condemnation that works to keep me bound to who I used to be. I forgive myself.