Rejecting “Unilateral Forgiveness”
Richard Parker just handed Christians a painful but necessary rebuke
Richard Parker’s essay, “Rejecting Forgiveness: Denouncing the Christian Rhetoric of Erika Kirk and Others,” plants a gauntlet squarely at our feet. He contends that declaring instant, unconditional forgiveness—even for grave evil—rewards vice, signals weakness, and corrodes public justice. He is not a Christian, and yet, on this point, many Christians will find he has seen something vital we have forgotten. That a non-Christian can see it more clearly than much of the church is a stinging indictment of modern Christian rhetoric.
Parker’s immediate provocation is well known: at her husband’s memorial, Erika Kirk publicly forgave the man accused of assassinating him. Her statement, widely circulated and praised by pastors and commentators, consciously echoed Jesus’s words from the cross (“Father, forgive them…”). The act was heralded by many Christian leaders as a luminous example of grace; it also sparked intense debate among believers and unbelievers alike about what forgiveness actually requires.
What should faithful Christians say? This review affirms Parker’s central thesis while locating it within a fully Christian framework. In short:
Scripture teaches that forgiveness is ordinarily conditioned on repentance (Luke 17:3–4), and that reconciliation requires demonstrable change and, where possible, restitution.
The church’s habit of announcing blanket forgiveness—especially in public tragedies—confuses categories, undermines justice, and can fuel further evil by removing moral and social costs.
Biblically, forgiving hearts are commanded; but actual absolution and restored fellowship follow rebuke and repentance, not bypass them. Tim Challies+1
Civilizationally, unilateral forgiveness disarms lawful authority, weakens deterrence, and catechizes a people into sentimentalism rather than righteousness.
I. lay out Parker’s case; II. test it against Scripture and classical Protestant theology; III. explain why this matters for families, churches, and nations; and IV. suggest a constructive Christian practice of forgiveness that honors both mercy and justice.
I) What Parker Argues (and Why It Resonates)
Parker’s critique targets a now-familiar script: after horrific crimes, victims or clergy immediately declare forgiveness—not after confession or restitution, but during the fog of fresh grief. He argues this public ritual does three damaging things:
It rewards evil by removing negative consequences at the moral level. Even if the legal system proceeds, the social-moral signal is: “You still receive our public moral pardon.”
It signals weakness; wolves smell it. If a community will absolve the unrepentant, why would predators fear them?
It catechizes the flock into a deformed “virtue,” where seeming sweetness replaces covenant fidelity, discipline, and the protection of the innocent.
Parker is blunt that unconditional forgiveness is anti-civilizational. He calls for a “First Law”: do not forgive grave wrongs unless certain conditions are met—chief among them, sincere repentance and (where apt) restitution. In short, Parker wants reciprocity and responsibility re-installed at the center of moral life.
Now, Christians might wince at his rhetoric and at some of his examples. But the thesis has teeth. Even many evangelical pastors—who disagree with Parker in other ways—have published essays wrestling with the biblical conditions for forgiveness and warning against “unconditional forgiveness” as a standing policy.
II) The Biblical Pattern: Rebuke, Repentance, Forgiveness, Reconciliation
The crucial text is Luke 17:3–4: “If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him… and if he sins against you seven times in the day, and turns to you seven times saying, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive him.” The order is not accidental. Jesus commands two things that modern sentimentalism despises: (1) rebuke, and (2) conditionality (“if he repents”). This is not an obscure proof-text; it is Jesus’s direct instruction on interpersonal sin.
Matthew 18 confirms the same covenantal logic. Private confrontation escalates to two or three witnesses, then to the church. If the offender “refuses to listen,” he is treated “as a Gentile and a tax collector”—i.e., outside the fellowship. Reconciliation requires listening and turning. The parable that follows (the unforgiving servant) warns forgiven sinners not to withhold forgiveness from repentant debtors—but it does not command us to pronounce absolution upon the unrepentant. (Even God does not do that.)
The Reformers and their heirs understood this instinctively: God forgives the penitent; He does not declare the impenitent justified. If divine forgiveness is conditional upon repentance and faith, how can we insist that human forgiveness must be automatically unconditional? That is not Christianity; it is universalism in pious dress.
Clarifying terms. Much confusion evaporates once we distinguish:
Heart posture (charity/forbearance): refusing to nurse vengeance or bitterness; praying for your enemy’s repentance; being ready to forgive.
Forgiveness (release of moral debt): ordinarily granted when the offender repents.
Reconciliation (restored trust/fellowship): requires evidence of change and, where possible, restitution.
Some pastors compress these into one word—“forgive”—and then make unconditional demands that Scripture does not make. Others (more helpfully) insist the Christian keep a forgiving heart (no revenge, no hatred), while also requiring repentance for true forgiveness and proof over time for reconciliation.
But what about “Father, forgive them…”?
On the cross, Jesus intercedes (“Father, forgive…”), modeling mercy in His heart; He does not pronounce covenant absolution upon unrepentant executioners. Moreover, many of those very men later repented at Pentecost and were indeed forgiven (Acts 2). Intercession and readiness to forgive do not equal the final act of forgiving regardless of repentance. (The church has always prayed for enemies, including persecutors—without collapsing prayer into pardon.)And the Lord’s Prayer?
“Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” does not command us to absolve unrepentant evil-doers; it commands us to renounce vengeance and to be people of ready mercy. If the phrase meant “always absolve everyone regardless of repentance,” then Jesus would contradict His own instructions in Luke 17 and Matthew 18.
In short, Scripture harmonizes: Christians must (1) reject private vengeance (Rom. 12), (2) maintain forgiving hearts, (3) rebuke sin, (4) require repentance for forgiveness, (5) require fruits meet for repentance for reconciliation, and (6) honor God’s civil sword (Rom. 13) as His appointed avenger. (The “no vengeance” of Rom. 12 is immediately followed by God ordaining public vengeance in Rom. 13; both are Christian.) This is the spine of a covenantal civilization.
III) Why Unilateral Forgiveness Is Anti-Civilizational
A people catechized to absolve the unrepentant will become a people unable to govern. Consider four domains:
1) Family government
Fathers who tell wayward sons, “You are forgiven no matter what,” while requiring no confession or change, train fools (Prov. 13:24). Christian fathers must be ready to forgive, quick to reconcile—but also unflinching in discipline. That is love. A house that refuses to rebuke and require repentance rots from within.
2) Church government
Christ explicitly charges the church to rebuke, bind and loose, and even excommunicate when obstinacy persists (Matt. 18). Announcing unconditional forgiveness empties the keys of the kingdom of any seriousness. It replaces pastoral authority with therapeutic theater.
3) Civil government
The magistrate is a “minister of God” to bear the sword on evildoers (Rom. 13). If public rhetoric consistently frames forgiveness as instant absolution, the moral-cultural deterrent of crime collapses. Worse, victims and citizens begin to mistrust authorities that seem more interested in public displays of “niceness” than in justice and protection. (This is not hypothetical; one major newspaper framed the clash at the Kirk memorial as “two Christianities”—a pacifist ethic of sudden forgiveness vs. a more militant posture—because that’s exactly how it looked to millions. The church’s inability to articulate a coherent biblical order has left the public square confused.)
4) Civic psychology
Every civilization runs on moral incentives. If the culture’s loudest voices insist that forgiveness is owed without repentance or restitution, the normal social costs of wrongdoing shrink. That doesn’t make us gentle; it makes us prey.
Parker’s angry tone sometimes overshoots, but the target he’s firing at is real: unilateral forgiveness encourages more evil. Even many evangelical treatments of forgiveness concede the point in different words: without repentance, “forgiveness” collapses either into self-help (“for yourself”) or cheap grace that confuses mercy with moral indifference.
IV) What Happened at the Memorial—and Why It Matters
At the Kirk memorial, Erika’s declaration of forgiveness was lauded by prominent pastors as the essence of Christian faith. For many viewers, it offered a compelling witness. For others (including Parker), it broadcast exactly the wrong public catechesis at the worst possible time. The press quickly framed the broader event as a contest between rival “Christianities,” and celebrities pointed to Erika’s rhetoric as personally transformative. That is precisely Parker’s concern: mass-platformed unilateral forgiveness becomes a national liturgy, instructing millions—believers and unbelievers alike—how they ought to feel and speak about grave evil, prior to repentance.
The point here is not to scold a grieving widow. It is to discipline the church’s public speech. Christian leaders who micromanage such moments should carefully name the difference between a heart of mercy and the act of forgiving, should call for repentance, should commend the magistrate in his duty, and should honor the sorrow of the bereaved without binding their conscience to a hasty pronouncement. The fact that an outside commentator could see this failure more clearly than many pastors is our shame, not his triumph.
V) Answering Common Objections
Objection 1: “But Jesus said to love your enemies.”
Amen. Loving an enemy includes praying for his repentance and salvation, refusing private vengeance, and desiring his eternal good. It does not mean pronouncing absolution while he persists in evil. Christians are commanded to love enemies; they are not commanded to forgive the unrepentant in the covenantal sense that restores fellowship and trust. Luke 17 still stands.
Objection 2: “Forgiveness is ‘for you’—to heal your trauma.”
There is pastoral wisdom in counseling victims away from bitterness. But that is not the same thing as forgiveness in the covenantal sense. The therapeutic reframing (“for you”) subtly removes the moral object (the offender’s guilt) and replaces it with self-management. The Bible treats forgiveness as a moral-covenantal reality before God—not merely a coping mechanism. (Even secular writers who defend unilateral forgiveness often admit it muddles justice.)
Objection 3: “If forgiveness is conditional, aren’t we refusing grace?”
No. Grace offers mercy to sinners who repent and believe. The gospel does not teach that God forgives the obstinate and unrepentant while they persist in rebellion. If divine forgiveness is conditional in that sense, human forgiveness (which imitates God) must be analogous. Universal absolution is not grace; it is cheapening the blood.
Objection 4: “Public forgiveness de-escalates vengeance.”
Only if rightly framed. Scripture already forbids personal vengeance and assigns punishment to the magistrate. Our public messaging should emphasize exactly that: no private revenge, yes public justice. Reflexive “I forgive him” statements at microphones often obscure that biblical division of labor.
VI) What a Christian Civilization Should Do Instead
1) Restore the biblical sequence.
Teach and practice rebuke → repentance → forgiveness → reconciliation—in marriages, households, courts, and church courts. Put Luke 17, Matthew 18, Romans 12–13 back together in catechesis, preaching, and discipline.
2) Recover the three governments.
Family: Fathers discipline promptly (Heb. 12 language), and forgive penitent children freely.
Church: Elders exercise the keys—admonition, suspension, excommunication, restoration.
State: The magistrate bears the sword to punish. Christians should praise swift, even-handed justice; mercy there takes the form of tempered sentences after repentance, not denial of guilt.
3) Distinguish “heart-mercy” from “absolution.”
A widow (or father) may say: “I ask God to have mercy on his soul; I relinquish personal vengeance; I pray he repents. But until he repents, I do not forgive him, and I demand justice.” That is Christian. That is civilizing.
4) Practice restitution.
In Scripture, repentance often comes with public confession and material restitution (think Zacchaeus). Our churches should preach not only “say sorry,” but “make it right.” Communities that amount bills for harm, and require offenders to pay them, catechize toward responsibility.
5) Teach men their duties.
Christian men must be taught that gentleness is not passivity, that mercy is not indifference, and that forgiveness does not mean abdication of protection. Shepherds carry rods.
6) Guard the microphone.
Pastors and hosts should resist the performative pressure to produce public absolutions after atrocities. They should emphasize lament, prayer for repentance, confidence in God’s justice, and support for lawful prosecution. Let the church speak with gravitas, not gush.
VII) Where Parker Overreaches (and How Christians Should Answer)
Parker at times urges conclusions Christians must reject. He appears to sanction private retribution if one can “get away with it.” That is forbidden to Christians. God forbids personal vengeance while instituting public vengeance via the magistrate. We must not “balance” sentimentalism with vigilantism. We answer both with covenant law: private mercy, public justice. (In fact, this is part of what makes Christendom humane—when it is itself obedient.)
Likewise, Parker occasionally frames the point in terms of a non-Christian warrior ethos as the alternative to the “sickly sweet” Christian rhetoric. Christians do not need Odin; they need Moses and Paul (law and sword), David (psalms and steel), and Jesus (mercy and kingdom). Our fathers knew this. Our amnesia is not proof that the Bible is defective; it is proof that we are.
VIII) A Word about Erika Kirk—and All Widows and Fathers
The purpose of this critique is not to put a grieving widow in the dock. It is to discipline the church’s speech so that we do not put unbearable yokes on the bereaved—or misuse their pain to preach a false gospel of unconditional absolution. Widows may say nothing at all. Fathers may be silent. Friends may weep. Pastors may lead laments and imprecatory psalms, prayers for repentance, and calls for justice—without forcing a premature “I forgive him” moment for the cameras.
The media will continue to frame these events as a clash between “forgiving Christianity” and “combative Christianity.” Let’s reject both caricatures by returning to biblical Christianity: enemies loved and prayed for, the impenitent rebuked, the penitent forgiven, and the wicked punished—swiftly and impartially—by God’s minister, the magistrate.
IX) Conclusion: Mercy with Backbone
Parker is right to say that unilateral forgiveness is anti-civilizational. He is right that it encourages evil. He is right that it confuses the public square and weakens the resolve of those who must protect the innocent.
Our task is not to out-pagan the pagans, but to out-Christian our current sentimentalism. We must renounce private vengeance, keep hearts ready to forgive, and require repentance for forgiveness and evidence for reconciliation—while honoring the magistrate’s sword. That is the pattern of Scripture; it is the pattern that built the best of Christendom; and it is the only path forward for a people who hope to be free.
Let us teach our children Luke 17 and Matthew 18; let us preach Romans 12 and 13 together; let us recover church discipline and the dignity of the civil sword. Then, when evil men strike, our public words can be both merciful and manly:
We lament.
We pray for the killer’s repentance.
We refuse private vengeance.
We do not forgive the unrepentant.
We demand swift, public justice.
If he repents, we forgive.
If he bears fruit, we reconcile.
Until then, we wait on the Lord.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Good post. I don’t mean to be mean, but Erika Kirk seems very fake. She’s a model, so it’s not a surprise, but I just find it weird that she’s so public after her husband murder. I don’t think Kirk is still alive and it’s all fake, but I guess since her husband was a public figure she kinda has to speak.
As I wrote in my note, which this comment is largely a cut and paste from, this essay is a well-written critique of “Rejecting Forgiveness,” mostly from a theological perspective but with practical considerations. I appreciate the author’s theological expertise, a strength I simply do not possess, although I do not believe I speak on these matters in ignorance, as some Christians who have taken offense seem to allege. More Chrisitans need to read texts like this.
I am also grateful that, despite sharp criticism of a certain sort of Christianity in "Rejecting Forgiveness," the author bears no ill-will and is largely complimentary of my essay. The manner in which I have been treated by some Christians has been distressing, so exchanges like this are not only reassuring but touching.
One concern I have is the characterization that I am pagan. "Rejecting Forgiveness" explicitly denotes I do not believe in Odin theisitcally, although stranger things have happened. (I have conversed with Odinists who claim to have seen him). I simply appreciate Odinism for its religion of philosophy, at least from what we can gleam from the Eddas and the fragments that have survived the middle ages. I am agnostic/atheist. Finally, I see no reason why Christians of German and Anglo heritage cannot draw from these great stories as an expression of their racial identity as well as the practical moral philosophy Odinism imparts to the Occident.
I am also not anti-Christian. I am anti-transgender,anti-racemixing, arguablyh anti-Semitic, but I am not anti-Christian. I am quite critical of many facets of modern Christianity. There is a difference.
I must also take umbrage with this sentence:
The fact that an outside commentator could see this failure more clearly than many pastors is our shame, not his triumph.
It is both: their shame and my triumph!
Finally, while I appreciate that forebearance of personal vengeance is necessary for civilzation overall, I have no qualms about the morality of personal justice, other than the practical considerations of getting caught and convicted. I speak of things like a best friend since high school seducing a person's wife, or molestation and rape of someone's daughter, that kind of thing. I will refrain from writing to conform to Substack guidelines. As I wrote in "Rejecting Forgiveness," "while not quite all is permitted," truly fearsome, unspeakable forms of retribution are, provided one can avoid practical consequences.
Richard Parker
PS-those who enjoy my essay are encouraged to leave comments. Essay with high comment counts tend to get featured. https://www.unz.com/article/rejecting-forgiveness-denouncing-the-christian-rhetoric-of-erika-kirk-and-others/