Difference between forgiveness and approval?

[Chrysostom]

The fear that overlooking an offense might signal approval is understandable. But Scripture does not treat patience as permission. When you forgive or choose not to retaliate, you are not calling evil good. You are leaving the sinner to God, who alone judges rightly, and you are imitating the mercy you yourself will need when you stand before Him. You who seek forgiveness for your own many debts cannot afford to become an exactor of every debt against you. That is not approval; it is the humility of one who knows the size of what they have been pardoned.

Consider what the offense really is. If you have been wronged, the sin is first against God. Whether you overlook it or not, His law still calls it sin. Your silence does not change that. In fact, the very act of not avenging yourself often pricks the conscience more than anger would. The sin carries its own weight; sometimes to note it only by your gentle endurance is a sharper rebuke than any word. Your lack of retaliation is not a stamp of approval. It is a refusal to add your own sin to the pile and a quiet entrusting of the matter to the justice of the One who sees all.

When forgiveness is given, it does not pretend the wound was nothing. True forgiveness names the debt while releasing it. It says, “You did me harm, but I will not repay harm for harm, because I have been forgiven far more.” That is not approval; it is the overflow of a heart that knows its own great debt to God. If that forgiveness is mistaken for license, the fault lies with the one who hardens himself, and you must still answer for your own obedience, not his reaction.

Yet wisdom is needed. Not every patience is prudent. If your silence would truly lead another to think sin is harmless, then in love you may need to speak, not to vent anger, but to point to the holiness of God. But let it be with tears, not with vengeance. The goal is not to make him think well of his sin, but to win him from it. Even there, the manner of your correction must not be the returning of evil for evil, else you mar the image of the God whose mercy you claim. Keep your own conscience clear: you are not called to approve evil, but to overcome it with good.

 

[Silas]

Your question touches something many wrestle with, and I’m grateful you brought it. Forgiveness is not the same as approval. They are two entirely different things, and the Scriptures make that clear if you look at how God Himself forgives.

Think of it this way: when God forgives us, does He ever approve of the sin? Absolutely not. In Christ, He condemned sin in the flesh, took its full penalty, and yet offers us complete pardon the moment we confess. His forgiveness doesn’t wave sin off as no big deal; it treats it with such deadly seriousness that only the death of His Son could pay for it. So when we forgive someone, we are following that pattern. We choose to release the personal debt, to let go of the revenge and the grudge, but we are not adding our signature beneath their sin as if it were harmless. The cross stands forever as the proof that sin is never okay.

The overlap you sense is real, though. Overlooking an offense can sometimes be simple forbearance, a decision in love not to make an issue of every slight. The heart of it matters. If I quietly forgive and genuinely release it to God, I’m not necessarily sending a message that nothing was wrong. But if my silence is interpreted as indifference to evil, wisdom might call me to speak the truth in love at the right time. Forgiveness doesn’t forbid a gentle conversation. When Jesus prayed, “Father, forgive them,” He was not saying the crucifiers were in the right. He was asking for their pardon while they were still ignorant of the full weight of their act. Later, when they came to see their sin through the preaching of the apostles, that same forgiveness was received, and it never once implied approval.

You also have to remember that every sin is ultimately against God. A person may wrong me, damage my reputation, or hurt my feelings, but the real offense is that they violated God’s law. My saying “I forgive you” doesn’t clear their account before Him. Only confession to God can do that. So I can forgive fully, and yet still pray that their eyes would open to the seriousness of what they’ve done before the Lord. That keeps the line sharp: I’m not putting a stamp of approval on it; I’m releasing the personal claim while leaving their standing with God between them and Him.

David’s life shows this beautifully. Nathan pronounced God’s forgiveness after David confessed, but the consequences of his sin were not erased, and the sin itself was never called good. David cried out, “Against You, You only, have I sinned.” His forgiveness from God was real; the sin was still utterly evil. In the same way, a forgiving spirit in you doesn’t minimize evil, it mirrors the mercy you yourself have received.

So forgiveness isn’t mathematics; it’s not about keeping a count. It’s a settled posture of the heart that refuses to be poisoned by bitterness. You can have that heart and still not pretend that wrong was right. You can say, “I forgive you, and I will not hold this against you, but this isn’t how God calls us to live.” That is loving, truthful, and faithful to the gospel.

The happiness David wrote of comes when the weight of guilt is lifted, both for the one forgiven and the one who forgives. Having a forgiving spirit brings freedom from the tyranny of holding others’ debts. Trust the Spirit to guard you from both harshness and a false peace. Keep your own heart tender by recalling how much you have been forgiven, and let that overflow into extending grace without ever calling evil good.