The novelist Elizabeth O’Conner once observed, “Forgiveness is always harder than sermons make it out to be.” She is probably right—although in my own defense, I do not recall claiming from the pulpit that forgiveness was ever easy!

Indeed, some have suggested that forgiveness is not only exceedingly difficult, it is unnatural. After all, it is a “dog-eat-dog” world out there, not “dog-forgive-dog.” An umpire in a baseball game never announces, “You were really out, but because of your exemplary attitude, I’ll forgive you and call you safe.” No nation responds to a belligerent neighbor with the proclamation, “You violated our borders and threatened our safety, but in the spirit of good will, we will forgive you.” That’s just not the way the world works.

The philosopher Immanuel Kant used to argue that someone should only be forgiven if that person deserves to be. Others might add that someone should only be forgiven if that person recognizes the wrongdoing and is sincerely apologetic. Still others would point out that forgiveness should only be granted if the person promises never to repeat the offense.

In other words, we are all in favor of forgiveness—just as long as there are some firm conditions in place to ensure that the guilty party will not take advantage of us in the future. But notice that the very word “forgive” contains the word “give” (similarly, “pardon” contains “donum,” the Latin word for gift). Thus, by definition, forgiveness is not something that is earned, or doled out only when certain conditions have been met. To forgive someone is to give that person a gift—undeserved, unmerited, and unconditional!

Of course, the problem—and this is what makes forgiveness so achingly difficult—is that if the other person doesn’t deserve it, then how is justice served? Shouldn’t there be some consequences for our actions? And shouldn’t one of those consequences be that, in order to receive forgiveness, the person at fault needs to (a) apologize; (b) repent; (c) make it up to you; (d) all of the above?

Personally, I have found the Apostle Paul’s words extremely helpful in this regard. In the twelfth chapter of Romans, Paul writes, “Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord.”

What this verse says to me is that, ultimately, forgiveness is an act of faith. By forgiving one another, we are trusting that God is better at answering the question, “What should the consequences be?” than we are. Thus, we relinquish our own right to settle the score, and leave in God’s hands the delicate scales that must finally balance justice and mercy.

Obviously, this is not an easy thing to do. In fact, we may not even find it completely satisfying. Nagging injustices will still remain, and the wounds inflicted by another will continue to cause us pain. But at the very least, when we forgive, we turn the whole matter over to God, whom we believe knows best how to sort it all out!