Tearing Up the Ledger: Forgiveness Isn’t Fair - It’s Freedom!

I can’t help it. Whenever I hear “accountant,” I picture a little old man wearing a green visor with a stubby pencil behind his ear, scribbling away in a ledger. For those who have no idea what a ledger is, just imagine a computer spreadsheet on paper. Yes, that’s the way we used to do it.

I have learned there is an internal accountant inside of a lot of people. He takes notes meticulously, placing scores inside those columns. The scores represent every time someone experiences an offense or an injustice. This little accountant keeps a record of wrongs, adds up all the debts that person feels like others owe them, and seldom misses a chance to make an entry.

I became aware of this accountant in some people as I matured as a believer in Christ, especially as I entered pastoral work. Initially, it feels like that little internal accountant is merely maintaining order and ensuring justice prevails. But I can assure you that the ledger does not really help you keep track — it helps keep you trapped.

When Ledger Lines Become Prison Bars

At first, maintaining the ledger seems justified. It is a way for you to remember who hurt you and to make sure you don’t forget the pain they caused you. But slowly, over time, those neat little gridlines of the ledger become hard iron bars of a prison cell. It sounds extreme, but it happens in small, everyday ways.

In fact, isn’t it interesting that on a computer spreadsheet, those little boxes are actually called “cells”?

How do those gridlines become prison bars? When you observe someone who hurt you succeed, you might feel bitterness in your heart. A grid line becomes a prison bar.

When you dream about revenge and getting even with someone for some injustice, another grid line becomes a prison bar.

When you replay past offenses and relive those emotions over and over again, more grid lines become prison bars.

Over time, you will find that the prison you are creating with your ledger will confine you much more than punish your offenders. The more you focus on the ledger, the more isolated, the more chained, the more imprisoned you become.

Chinh’s Story: A Real-Life Illustration

On May 10, 2024, Chinh, an Asiatic black bear, was rescued from a bile farm in Vietnam. You probably have no idea what a bile farm is. Frankly, neither did I. I learned that for over 20 years, Chinh had lived inside a small, dark cage. The bear had endured painful bile extractions, a practice rooted in traditional medicine.

But then an organization called Four Paws, supported by World Animal Protection and the Vietnam Forest Protection Department, rescued Chinh. He willingly stepped into a transport cage without any anesthesia — a testimony of his unbelievable will to survive.

When Chinh arrived at a sanctuary in Ninh Binh, he was introduced to a semi-wild enclosure, a wide open space filled with sunlight, grass, and trees. But when the transport cage door swung open, he froze. He touched the grass hesitantly with his paws, as if he couldn’t believe it was real. And instead of running and exploring, he began to pace in tight, familiar circles. He walked in the same invisible 14-foot path he had walked in for over twenty years. His cage was gone physically, but it still held him tight in a prison stronger than steel.

In many ways, his story mirrors what happens in our hearts when we hold onto unforgiveness.

I have met a lot of people like Chinh. They have an opportunity to be free emotionally and spiritually. Still, the scars and memories of years of captivity and unforgiveness cause them to live in a condition of constant incarceration.

Love Doesn’t Keep Score

A passage of Scripture teaches us to fire our internal accountant. It is found in 1 Corinthians 13:5 (NIV), “Love keeps no record of wrongs.” True love doesn’t add up offenses or keep a detailed ledger of wrongs. Love offers freedom through forgiveness.

But tearing up the ledger isn’t easy. It goes against every instinct we have.

Forgiveness always feels counterintuitive. When I forgive someone, it can feel like I approve of unjust actions. It can feel like I am letting somebody off the hook. But forgiveness is more powerful than we can imagine. When I choose to release the hold that past offenses have had on my life, I am not letting someone off the hook. I am trusting the Righteous Judge to make things right. I remember that I, too, have many entries in other people's ledgers. 

You also have many entries in the ledgers of other people. Forgiveness means that we choose to tear up the ledger. And when we tear up the ledger, we break out of the prison.

Embracing Freedom Through Forgiveness

Our culture promotes holding on to offenses and seeking revenge, at the worst in the form of lawsuits, and at the least in spiteful social media posts. Choosing forgiveness is countercultural. But it is the path to real freedom.

When we tear up the ledger, we aren’t losing — we’re winning our lives back.

By letting go of the ledger, we allow ourselves to heal. We break free from the bars of resentment and release the transformative power of grace into our lives and the lives of others. Like Chinh, forgiveness allows us to step into green grass and gives us the privilege of learning how to live in a sanctuary instead of a cell.

I encourage you to fire your internal accountant and tear up the ledger. And if you need a prayer to help you do this, here is a line from one of the most familiar prayers, taught to us by Jesus Himself:

“Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.”