What is faith? As simple as it is to ask this question, the nature and essence of faith remains a perennial subject of deep theological reflection. As in most instances, the Greek word translated into English as “faith” in our readings, both taken from our uniquely Christian scriptures, the New Testament, is pistis.1
In response to Jesus’ teaching on the necessity of forgiveness, recognizing what a difficult teaching it is, the Apostles plead: “Increase our faith.”2 In true form, Jesus tells them that if they have even a little faith, faith the size of mustard seed, which is a very small seed, they could, by their words, uproot a mulberry tree and plant it in the sea.
It would seem, by use of hyperbole (hyperbole= exaggerated statements not meant to be taken literally), Jesus implies that if the power of faith can move a mulberry tree in such a dramatic way, then by this same power you can forgive someone who wrongs you seven times in one day. Persinally, I think the latter is the greater miracle. Okay, but what has that to do with faith? Well, the short answer is: Everything!
In antiquity, as a singular term, pistis referred to a guarantee, something like a warranty. Hence, in Christian usage, pistis, or faith, becomes God’s warranty, guarantee, or, more accurately, God’s provision. Believing that God will provide is an act of trust. This why, as Christians, we say that hope is the flower of faith. Keep in mind, hope is not optimism. Hope kicks in as optimism fades out.
What we often worry about when it comes to forgiveness is justice. This is not a trivial or silly concern. By forgiving, we accept the guarantee of God’s justice, opening ourselves to receive divine provision. This is why elsewhere, Saint Paul, invoking the law, exhorts:
Beloved, do not look for revenge but leave room for the wrath; for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.”
Rather, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink… Do not be conquered by evil but conquer evil with good 3
A mustard seed
Jesus never simply teaches. He doesn’t simply “put his money where his mouth is” or just “walk the walk.” Rather, just as he mysteriously becomes the bread and wine, what he teaches, he is. This is why, in the midst of the humiliation and torture that was His passion, he asked the Father to forgive those who were humiliating and torturing him.4
By hearing his words and partaking of his body and blood we should be transformed so that we, too, become what Jesus teaches.
Ancient Greeks understood pistis to result from a certain kind of persuasive discourse. Like Jesus’ teaching in response to the plea by the Apostles, this discourse is elliptical (i.e., not direct, like his use of hyperbole with regard to the mulberry tree). For the Greeks, pistis is the affect and effect of such a discourse. Hence, it is not a logical demonstration. The affect and effect of Jesus’ teaching in this pericope is the hearer feeling the need to be forgiving and then, when wronged, forgiving.
Psychologically, forgiveness is defined “as a conscious, deliberate decision to release feelings of resentment or vengeance toward a person or group who has harmed you, regardless of whether they actually deserve your forgiveness.”5
Now, forgiveness is a serious matter. One’s ability and even one’s willingness to forgive is often in proportion to the grievousness of the wrong endured. Forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting. Forgiving does not necessarily mean reconciling. In fact, sometimes reconciliation isn’t possible and at times inadvisable.
Forgiveness means willing to forgive even the unforgiveable. This where trusting in divine justice becomes so vitally important. As C.S. Lewis noted: “To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you.”6 “Only, I think, by remembering where we stand,” Lewis continues, “by meaning our words when we say in our prayers each night ‘forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us.’ We are offered forgiveness on no other terms.”7
Rather than logic, what Jesus employs is theo-logic, which, given the pull of the flesh, is usually quite counterintuitive. This teaching takes aim at our human default setting: an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. It is Tevye, the lead character in Fiddler on the Roof, who notes that the result of this is “the whole world will be blind and toothless.” In the Kingdom of God, it is not so.
1 Nestle 1904 Greek New Testament: Titus 1:1; Luke 17:6- .↩
2 Luke 17:5.↩
3 Romans 12:19-21; Leviticus 19:18; Deuteronomy 32:35.41.↩
4 Luke 23:34.↩
5 Greater Good Magazine. “What Is Forgiveness?”↩
6 C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996. 136.↩
7 Ibid.↩
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