Sunday, September 17, 2017

Forgiveness Is Power

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ
September 17, 2017

Year A, Proper 19: The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Genesis 50:15-21
Psalm 103:1-13
Romans 14:1-12
Matthew 18:21-35

Forgiveness Is Power
            So, by now many of you know that I’ve got a few little jokes that I use all the time – and maybe by now some of you are wishing I’d knock it off – or at least come up with some new material!
For example, sometimes when people ask me how I’m doing or kindly express concern that I’m not getting enough rest, I’ll smile and say, “I’m OK because, you know, I only work on Sundays!”
At that, people usually either laugh a little, or roll their eyes, or look at me with confusion – not sure if I’m serious or not.
Well, of course I don’t just work on Sundays but maybe some of you wonder what exactly it is I do during the week.
Well, we have our weekday services, and I attend a ton of meetings, and I make pastoral visits, and take care of the business of the church, but most of all, I spend a lot of time simply listening to people.
Sometimes they make an appointment to see me or they’ll just come by or call the office. Sometimes people will stop me on the street and just start talking.
Often they’ll share some challenge or struggle in their life and hope that I’ll know a way to fix whatever is wrong.
It took me a while to realize that I must have been absent the day they gave out magic wands at seminary, a long time to accept that I can’t really “fix” anybody’s situation – that all I can do is listen, and offer a shoulder to cry on, and pray, of course – all I can do is offer my companionship on this road of faith that we’re all walking.
Sometimes, people will come and see me because they’re having a crisis of faith. And, that’s no surprise since, you know, it’s hard to be a Christian – it’s hard to trust God when the world seems to be going to hell, it’s hard to love your neighbor as yourself, even harder to love our enemies.
It’s hard to give generously when we have so many responsibilities and there’s that tall pile of bills waiting for us on the kitchen table, it’s hard to be faithful in worship when we’re so tired from the week or we’re suffering from aches and pains, and it’s hard to pray for someone we don’t like one bit, or maybe even fear.
It’s all very hard and only possible with God’s help, God’s grace – which, fortunately, is always offered to us.
Amen? Amen.
            And, maybe there’s nothing harder about Christianity than what we heard today in the exchange between Jesus and Peter.
            Peter approaches Jesus and asks a really good question:
            “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?”
            Wouldn’t you like to know the backstory behind that question?
            Something not so good must have happened, right? It seems that Peter has been wronged and he wants to know just how far he has to go with this forgiveness business that I’m sure he’s heard Jesus talk about a ton of times.
            Maybe to cover himself and show he’s not stingy with forgiveness, or maybe just to show Jesus that he’s been paying attention, Peter picks a big number: seven.
            Even today, forgiving someone seven times for the same offense would seem pretty generous to most of us, right? But for first century Jews, seven was more than seven: it was the number that represented infinity.
            So, that’s a lot of forgiveness.
            But, Jesus, in his usual Jesus way, takes it even further, replying,
            “Not seven times, but I tell you, seventy-seven times.”
            An infinite infinity of forgiveness.
            Christianity is hard, right?
            The truth is that even the most forgiving of us are probably not quite up to speed in the forgiveness department – oh, we may be good at forgiving little things, maybe, but the big stuff, that’s hard.
            That’s why we marvel at examples of extraordinary forgiveness.
            For example, in today’s first lesson from Genesis, we heard the tail end of the story of Joseph and his brothers.
            You may remember how out of jealousy the brothers had sold Joseph into slavery in Egypt – ah, family – where he rose to become a powerful official in the Pharoah’s government.
            It’s a long and wonderful story but the bottom line is that when Joseph has the opportunity to get his revenge, he instead offers bighearted forgiveness.
            As we heard him say to his brothers:
            “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today. So have no fear; I myself will provide for you and your little ones.”
            Pretty amazing, right?
            And, of course, we marvel at modern-day examples of extraordinary forgiveness, too.
            I’ve mentioned it before, and I’m sure many of you remember the story of Charles Roberts, who it seems was unable to forgive himself for his own past misdeeds and who blamed God for the death of his young daughter, and one day back in 2006 walked into an Amish one-room schoolhouse in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, opened fire, shot eight of the ten young girls present, killing five of them before killing himself.
            This would have been just another tragic mass murder in a country that loves its arms so much, except for what happened next:
            The Amish immediately offered forgiveness.
            That same afternoon, the grandfather of one of the girls publicly offered forgiveness.
            The same day, some Amish visited the Roberts family to console them in their loss.
Later, one the Amish families invited the Roberts family to the funeral of their little girl – and, finally, the Amish outnumbered the non-Amish at the funeral of Charles Roberts, the man who had inflicted so much pain on them – had taken away their children, their greatest treasures.
And, even more recently, just a little more than two years ago now, I’m sure many of you remember the senseless massacre at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina, when Dylann Roof, a young white man horribly twisted by racism, walked into a Bible study and after sitting for a while opened fire, killing nine people, including the church’s pastor.
At Dylann Roof’s bond hearing, Nadine Collier, whose mother was among those killed, said to the young murderer:
“I forgive you. You took something very precious away from me. I will never get to talk with her again. I will never be able to hold her again, but I forgive you, and have mercy on your soul… You hurt me. You hurt a lot of people. If God forgives you, I forgive you.”
            A year later, Nadine Collier shared an insight she gained from this horrific experience. She said,
            “Forgiveness is power. It means you can fight everything and anything head on.”
            Forgiveness is power.
            She’s right – and we see that power in Joseph forgiving his brothers, the Amish and the people of “Mother Emanuel” forgiving those who had taken so much from them – and we see that power in Jesus himself, hanging on the cross, praying to the Father to forgive those who had wronged him so terribly.
            Now, at this point we might be thinking that these are all kind of extreme situations, the stuff that makes the news, and so doesn’t really apply to us or the people we know, the people we’re sitting with right now.
            But, we’d be wrong.
            After listening to so many people, one thing I’ve learned is that many of us, maybe all of us, carry some deep wounds or, if we’re fortunate and have healed a bit, maybe now they’re just scars – and, unfortunately, most of that hurt comes at the hands of other people – maybe physical or emotional abuse, or some kind of betrayal, or, perhaps, profound disappointment.
            And, sometimes those wounds and scars are self-inflicted.
            There’s so much pain, right here.
            And yet, Jesus calls us, commands us, to be like God and forgive – which, as I believe we mentioned, is hard – and, I want to be absolutely clear about this, depending on what’s going on, especially in an abusive or some other dangerous situation, forgiveness isn’t necessarily the first thing we need to deal with.
            But, eventually, we’ll need to face the command - and maybe even the need - to forgive – to forgive someone who’s hurt or wronged us and, maybe, we might even need to forgive ourselves.
            So, just how can we be like God and forgive?
Just how can we be like Jesus and Joseph and the Amish and the people of Mother Emanuel?
            Just how can we tap into the power of forgiveness?
            Well, I don’t know exactly. But, I’m pretty sure the key is community – community just like this.
            When we’re all alone, alone with our wounds and our scars, alone with our fears, hurts, and grievances, forgiveness may seem nearly impossible.
            But, when we’re part of something larger, when we listen to each other and offer a shoulder to cry on, when we pray together and walk beside each other - when we come here each week and listen to these old, old stories and say these prayers and sing our songs – well, I know that God works with and through all of that, uses all of that and more to give us an ever-stronger sense of who we are and whose we are and what we’re about, so that, like those heartbroken Amish and the grieving people of Mother Emanuel, like Jesus himself, we too can have the confidence and courage to tap into the power of forgiveness, not just once but  maybe seven times, or even seventy-seven times.
            Hard? You bet. But, with God’s help, we can do it.
            Amen.