Part 4:

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Rom 8:1)

Yesterday I ended with four words: Be forgiven today.

It sounded simple when I wrote it. But then I started thinking…

What happens when God has forgiven me, but I am still carrying the guilt? Because I think many of us know how to confess.

We know how to repent. We know how to ask God for forgiveness. We can quote 1 John 1:9:

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

We believe that verse. At least we say we do. And yet somehow, after God has forgiven us, we pick the thing back up. We replay it. We revisit it. We rehearse the conversation. We remember who we hurt. We remember what we lost. We remember who we were in that moment.

And sometimes years later, we are still dragging the evidence behind us. God says: Forgiven.

And I say: Yes, but… There it is again. Another BUT.

Yes, Lord, I know You forgive me, but I should have known better. But I hurt people. But I was a Christian when I did it. But I knew Your Word. But I have done this before. But surely there must be some punishment left for me. And suddenly I realise something. Sometimes I don’t only struggle to confess my sin.

I struggle to accept God’s answer to my confession.

What do you do when the Judge has dismissed the case, but you keep returning to the courtroom?That picture has been sitting with me. Imagine standing in a courtroom.

The evidence is there. You are guilty. We established that in Part 1. No excuses. No pointing. No pretending. Guilty as charged. And then Jesus steps forward.

The debt is paid. The sentence has been carried. The price has been settled. And the verdict over you becomes:

Forgiven.

Now imagine returning to that courtroom every morning. Opening the files again. Laying out the evidence. Calling the witnesses. Replaying the offence.

And asking to be sentenced again. I wonder how often we do exactly that. We call it remorse. We call it being sorry. We call it taking responsibility.

But sometimes it is simply condemnation wearing religious clothing. Conviction and condemnation are not the same thing.

I think this matters enormously. Because the Holy Spirit absolutely convicts us of sin. Conviction is necessary. Conviction is what made David say:

“I have sinned against the Lord.”

Conviction makes me uncomfortable with what is separating me from God. It brings something into the light.

It calls me to repent. It says:

This is not who I have called you to be. Come back to Me. But condemnation sounds very different. Condemnation says: This is who you are. Conviction says: You sinned. Condemnation says: You ARE your sin. Conviction says: Bring it to Jesus. Condemnation says:

How dare you go near Jesus after what you’ve done?

Conviction pulls me toward God. Condemnation makes me hide from Him. Conviction produces repentance. Condemnation produces shame. Conviction says: Come home.

Condemnation whispers: You don’t belong there anymore.

Learn to recognise the difference. Because one voice wants restoration.

The other wants imprisonment. Romans 8:1 leaves very little room for negotiation.

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

Now. No condemnation. Not less condemnation. Not temporary condemnation. Not condemnation until you have cried enough.

Not condemnation until everybody you hurt has forgiven you. Not condemnation until you have punished yourself for an acceptable number of years. No condemnation.

And I wonder whether sometimes we secretly believe our continued suffering somehow proves that our repentance was sincere.

So we punish ourselves. We refuse joy. We sabotage good things. We keep ourselves emotionally imprisoned.

We think: How can I be happy after what I did? How can God still use me?

How can I worship with these hands? How can I speak about Jesus when I know my own history? And perhaps we think carrying guilt is humility.

But is it? What if refusing forgiveness isn’t humility at all?

This thought challenged me.

If God says forgiven… who am I to keep saying condemned?

If Jesus says the debt is paid… who am I to keep insisting there is still an outstanding balance?

If the blood of Jesus was sufficient for everybody else’s sin… why have I quietly decided that mine requires something extra?

Think about that. Sometimes we make our sin so enormous in our own minds that, without realising it, we make the Cross too small.

Jesus can forgive adultery… but mine was different. Jesus can forgive addiction… but you don’t understand mine.

Jesus can forgive betrayal… but mine hurt too many people. Jesus can forgive the past… but I knew better. But the Gospel never says:

The blood of Jesus cleanses us from most sin. 1 John 1:7 says:

“The blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.”

All.

There is that uncomfortable little word again. Just like all have sinned… His blood cleanses from all sin.

The Gospel leaves no room for superiority. But it also leaves no room for hopelessness.

This doesn’t mean consequences disappear. Forgiveness does not magically undo everything.

David was forgiven, but there were still consequences to his choices. Sometimes relationships need rebuilding.

Trust may take time. Restitution may be necessary. Apologies may need to be made.

Some scars remain. Forgiveness does not mean pretending nothing happened. It means what happened no longer has the authority to condemn the person Jesus has redeemed.

It’s a lot to digest this week! But…

I love you

V.L