“Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing’” (Luke 23:34).

These words have often unsettled me. I understand the first part, “Father, forgive them.” But then comes, “They don’t know what they’re doing”? Really, Jesus?

Jesus sees not only their actions but also their condition, not just what they’ve done but what they lack: the nurturing and guidance they should have received to become whole.

Didn’t they choose to crucify Him and cry for blood? It feels, at first, like Jesus is letting them off the hook. There’s no remorse or repentance? Just forgiveness?

But from the cross, Jesus sees something I often miss. He sees not only their actions but also their condition, not just what they’ve done but what they lack: the nurturing and guidance they should have received to become whole.

What if, as a Church, we saw one another as Jesus does? What if we stopped viewing those we’re in conflict with as threats and began relating to them as members of the same struggling, growing family? What if we were to escape the blame game and begin speaking the language of love and maturity instead of the language of accusation and fear, which is foreign to the tongue of Christ?

In Developing a Mature Community, Dr. Jim Wilder explains that humans are designed to grow through three stages of relational maturity: child, adult, and elder. Each stage has core tasks that, if neglected, leave us emotionally underdeveloped, regardless of our age or theological correctness.

As children, we are meant to experience nourishment, joy, and rest, which shape our identity. We ask, “Am I special? Am I loved?” We learn the answer through seeing our caregivers’ delight in us and by being soothed in their arms. But many never receive this foundation.

Mature adults take responsibility for themselves and others. Living with purpose and grace under pressure, their guiding question becomes, “Can I remain myself while serving others well?” Adults allow suffering to help them grow.

Elders—the final stage—let go of ego and fear. Peacefully, they ask, “What legacy of blessing can I leave behind?” Elders offer presence, wisdom, and self-giving love. Jesus modeled this on the cross.

When He prayed, “Father, forgive them,” Jesus wasn’t denying sin’s reality; He was acknowledging the depth of our immaturity. He saw the unformed hearts behind the hostile actions and responded with compassion—not condemnation.

What if the church grew up into that kind of community? A safe place where correction feels like care, not control? Where brokenness invites nurture, not shame? Where forgiveness is the default, not the last resort? Where we grow together, not just in doctrine, but in love?

On second thought, I’m glad Jesus prayed as He did, because, from Calvary’s vantage point, He looked beyond the Roman soldiers, the Pharisees, and the mob. He looked at me—ill-formed, misshapen, and immature—and proclaimed my forgiveness! It’s for you too. Now let’s grow.

A person with short hair and a beard smiles at the camera with arms crossed, wearing a black long-sleeve shirt. The background is blurred, featuring vertical white structures and an outdoor setting.
Angelo Grasso
SPIRITUAL CARE DIRECTOR at LIGHT BEARERS

Angelo Grasso serves as Light Bearers’ Spiritual Care Director and ARISE instructor. An ordained minister and trained chaplain, Angelo is deeply passionate about exploring the intersection of brain science and spiritual growth across all stages of life. He is blessed by the companionship of his wife, Kathy, and their two children, Eli and Emma.