14th century Christian mystic Julian of Norwich apparently wrote that God cannot forgive because God cannot be angry. God is not wrathful, nor in fact emotionally responsive in any way to human mis-doing, whether those mis-doings be self-directed, imposed on others, or an explicit insult to God.
God cannot be injured by us, can never be angry, and hence can never forgive. Perhaps that means God has no need to forgive, or perhaps it implies that there is never a time when God's heart has not already forgiven.
What a beautiful and thought-provoking comment—thank you, Matthew. It adds another layer to the conversation around forgiveness and anger. We're curious to know what Julian’s writing above means to you. Does it help you navigate forgiveness in your life?
“God cannot forgive because God cannot be angry.”
What we've found through our real-life stories here at The Forgiveness Project is that forgiveness rarely walks alone—it is often accompanied by other emotions and experiences. These might include anger, regret, fear, guilt or shame to name a few.
At the same time, many of us have been taught to avoid being angry and to suppress the accompanying emotions that arise when we feel hurt. Also, the degree to which we've managed to quickly—and in some ways automatically—forgive people in our lives has become the measure of how good we are as human beings.
When we look through a different lens and think about how we would like to be received or treated in the event that we hurt others or experience moral injury, we’re likely to hope for someone who is “not wrathful”. This part might feel soothing and comforting in times of inner turmoil: "...there is never a time when God's heart has not already forgiven."
I penned the first comment not from personal experience but because I thought Julian of Norwich's thought was a fascinating reframing of a common religious point of view -- namely the understanding often preached in Christian churches that the core of "sin" is our offence against God and that it is somehow difficult/costly for God to forgive us. And of course if it isn't forgiven then we are told that horrors await us because of God's wrath.
But I am thankful for your prompt to think more about what that means to me personally.
Forgiveness between people is often very challenging, but it is sometimes made even more challenging when overlaid with religious guilt and a conception of God as angry and judgemental. But what would happen to forgiveness if God bears no such anger/animosity/resentment? What if the person we feel we have wronged bears no such anger or resentment? What if we did not bear those negative reactions (among others) towards ourselves?
If the supposed injury or insult to such a person (or God) just "bounced off" so that they did not harbour resentment in the first place, is there still a need for forgiveness?
If God understands the fragility of human life, and our many, varied forms of brokenness, and if God is not offended but rather views us with compassion, then for me a very significant burden is lifted and I can both give and receive forgiveness more easily to those around me and to myself.
A comment on the quote from Susie Lomax ...
14th century Christian mystic Julian of Norwich apparently wrote that God cannot forgive because God cannot be angry. God is not wrathful, nor in fact emotionally responsive in any way to human mis-doing, whether those mis-doings be self-directed, imposed on others, or an explicit insult to God.
God cannot be injured by us, can never be angry, and hence can never forgive. Perhaps that means God has no need to forgive, or perhaps it implies that there is never a time when God's heart has not already forgiven.
What a beautiful and thought-provoking comment—thank you, Matthew. It adds another layer to the conversation around forgiveness and anger. We're curious to know what Julian’s writing above means to you. Does it help you navigate forgiveness in your life?
“God cannot forgive because God cannot be angry.”
What we've found through our real-life stories here at The Forgiveness Project is that forgiveness rarely walks alone—it is often accompanied by other emotions and experiences. These might include anger, regret, fear, guilt or shame to name a few.
At the same time, many of us have been taught to avoid being angry and to suppress the accompanying emotions that arise when we feel hurt. Also, the degree to which we've managed to quickly—and in some ways automatically—forgive people in our lives has become the measure of how good we are as human beings.
When we look through a different lens and think about how we would like to be received or treated in the event that we hurt others or experience moral injury, we’re likely to hope for someone who is “not wrathful”. This part might feel soothing and comforting in times of inner turmoil: "...there is never a time when God's heart has not already forgiven."
We’re looking forward to your reflections.
I penned the first comment not from personal experience but because I thought Julian of Norwich's thought was a fascinating reframing of a common religious point of view -- namely the understanding often preached in Christian churches that the core of "sin" is our offence against God and that it is somehow difficult/costly for God to forgive us. And of course if it isn't forgiven then we are told that horrors await us because of God's wrath.
But I am thankful for your prompt to think more about what that means to me personally.
Forgiveness between people is often very challenging, but it is sometimes made even more challenging when overlaid with religious guilt and a conception of God as angry and judgemental. But what would happen to forgiveness if God bears no such anger/animosity/resentment? What if the person we feel we have wronged bears no such anger or resentment? What if we did not bear those negative reactions (among others) towards ourselves?
If the supposed injury or insult to such a person (or God) just "bounced off" so that they did not harbour resentment in the first place, is there still a need for forgiveness?
If God understands the fragility of human life, and our many, varied forms of brokenness, and if God is not offended but rather views us with compassion, then for me a very significant burden is lifted and I can both give and receive forgiveness more easily to those around me and to myself.