I was wrong. I predicted the mainstream media would not report on the Haggard story unless there were further revelations of impropriety or disruptions within his former church. The New York Times--yes, it's the only paper I read on a daily basis--has an excellent article on the structure of accountability that Ted Haggard formed at New Life Church in Colorado. Although the headline editor gave it a "hoisted on his own petard" spin, Laurie Goodstein provides a sensitive insight into the meaning and mechanics of Christian accountability.

My previous post on this story provoked a friend to berate me for the absurdity of defending a hypocrite. If Haggard did not have to face any consequences for lying, using illegal drugs, and engaging in the very sexual behavior he preached against, it would indeed be absurd, if not immoral, to defend him, or--more accurately my intention--suggesting that he has access to forgiveness.

Just as rights entail obligations, so does forgiveness entail suffering. If I forgive someone for lying to me, I take upon myself the consequences of the deception whatever they may be. If the people of New Life Church forgive their former pastor, Ted Haggard, they still must suffer the pain of emotional betrayal, the weakening of trust in leaders, a temptation to cynicism, perhaps even spiritual doubt, and generally the loss of an ineffable happiness that comes from belonging to a trusting community. Forgiving Ted Haggard is a costly endeavor.

Like my critical friend, this forgiveness is too costly, even for those watching this story from the sidelines. The scales of justice are tipped too far. Haggard's loss of his job and the national shaming of his reputation are a mere pittance compared to the losses born by those to whom he lied, which is just about everyone who owns a television. How can any sane person forgive him?

How indeed? What difference would it make to add the performative utterance "I forgive you" along with suffering the consequences of Haggard's deception? The difference would be only a vain ritual. (Well, it woudn't be entirely vain; it could affirm your membership in a community of people who regard themselves as more righteous than those who don't perform the ritual. But then again, that's pretty vain.) If this is all forgiveness amounts to, then by all means we should dispose of it. Better to adopt an attitude of indifference toward the offender. Indifference is the extreme end of hate, which is probably the best alternative we have if there is no such thing as authentic forgiveness.

If there is any hope of forgiveness, we must first accept that no punishment can settle the score. This is not an argument against punishment; we cannot and should not attempt to escape the consequences of our actions. However, even when justice is served, it is inadequate for the demands of forgiveness. Forgiveness requires something much more severe than justice. We can observe this truth in our daily lives. When we are wronged, even after the offender repents, we often just want him to cease to exist. It is more than indifference; we secretly wish for his annihilation; we want the memory of him wiped off the planet so we don't even feel hatred toward him anymore.

We rarely admit this to others, but we won't even admit to ourselves that this deep animus is appropriate. Civilization depends on subduing this natural response to an offender, but can it be subdued by a Noble Lie or an Eternal Truth? Christianity teaches that the least of our transgressions against God's will is sufficient cause for our eternal damnation: a harsh doctrine by any estimation, but unendurable when taken in isolation to the rest of Christian teaching. If God is the ground of our very existence; then rebelling against His will is rebellion against our existence. God does not consign individuals to hell so much as they voluntarily choose death over life when they reject Him.

How can God forgive this rebellion? By suffering the consequences of it Himself. He endured the full reality of that deep animus we only feel toward our offenders. He suffered annihilation on the cross in our place so we could live. That is the foundation of all authentic forgiveness. Without Christ's sacrifice, forgiveness is an empty term, a synonym for 'indifference', or the name of a ritual used by those who feel superior to those who wrong them. The only way to heal that deep animus we feel toward our offenders is to ackowledge that we have been forgiven of the same. We forgive because we are forgiven. We don't forgive from our own kindness; we forgive because we bear a burden of forgiveness. In order to forgive, we must take a sobering and unpleasant look into our own offenses.

We may be tempted to elude this obligation by saying "yes, I've done some things wrong and I'm thankful for God's forgiveness, but at least I'm not a lying, preaching, whoremongering hypocrite like Haggard." Perhaps you're not, but until you acknowledge that you are much worse than that, you won't be able to forgive Ted Haggard.