Forgiveness

Context: At our Wednesday healing service at Christ Church Easton this week, the Gospel reading was Matthew 18:21-35, the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant. At the end of the parable, the unforgiven servant (who had been forgiven by his master, but wouldn’t forgive his fellow slave, was being tortured for his unforgiveness. The following is a brief homily and discussion question we had on forgiveness.

Forgiveness

Remember, parables are stories that are meant to make a point. They aren’t to be taken 100 percent literally. To say that you are going to be tortured until you learn forgiveness sounds a little ridiculous.

But I am going to say to you that in this case, that’s actually true. Every one of us is tortured until we learn how to forgive.

When we hold resentment and unforgiveness in our hearts against someone, that feeling takes control over us. Kessler Bickford, who sometimes joins us at the healing service has given programs on forgiveness and she used the analogy of not forgiving someone being like having a huge fish on a fishing line, that we can’t pull in, and it’s digging into your hands and pulling the boat, and the fish is determining the direction you go and becomes the only thing you can focus on. And the only way forward is to cut the line, to forgive, so you can get back to living your own life.

Another famous analogy is that not forgiving someone and holding onto hate and resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

Not only does it not work, it kills you in the process.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu, in “The Book of Forgiving” put it as eloquently and effectively as you can:

“Until we can forgive, we remain locked in our pain and locked out of experiencing healing and freedom, locked out of the possibility of being at peace.

“Without forgiveness, we remain tethered to the person who harmed us. We are bound with chains of bitterness, tied together, trapped. Until we can forgive the person who harmed us, that person holds the keys to our happiness; that person is our jailor. When we forgive, we take back control of our own fate and our feelings. We become our own liberators.”


It’s in that sense that the parable hits home: we are tortured when and while we don’t forgive. And that torture is self-inflicted.

Forgiveness is the way forward for Jesus and our way forward with Jesus.

The Lord’s Prayer is the prayer Jesus taught his disciples. Every time we pray it, we say:

And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And though we prefer the language that we know, the more accurate translation of those lines is:

Forgive us our sins
as we forgive those who sin against us.

If we ourselves ask for and know we need forgiveness when we slip up, what sense does it make to deny forgiveness to someone else? That’s what this parable tries to make clear—the hypocrisy of that kind of stance.

We’ve got not forgiving as being tortured. We have forgiveness as the way forward that Jesus asks us to take.

I also maintain that forgiveness is the only, or at least the main thing that will change the world. It’s hard to disprove the saying, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.”

On a national and global scale, unforgiveness, resentment, anger lead to wars, crimes against humanity, you name it. And the only direction it goes when unchecked is to get worse. Give someone more resources or more weapons, conflict continues and elevates.

In Luke’s Gospel, as Jesus is being tortured and killed on the cross, he says, “Father forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing.”


Often when people react or act in violence and hatred, they don’t know what they are doing. They are seeing only through those limited lenses.

If you want to know if we have a forgiving God: in the Resurrection, when Jesus overcomes the death that humans gave him, we don’t see God looking for vengeance or retribution, instead we see Jesus doubling down on everything he had been saying, showing, modeling—love God and love your neighbor; if you are my disciples, they will know you by your love.

If we are going to get ourselves from the kingdom of the world to the kingdom of heaven, it’s going to be on the road of love and forgiveness.

How do we get there from here? What does it take in our lives, in your life, to more fully embrace forgiveness?

In some cases, it can be seeing the person or people who we need to forgive as human beings who make mistakes. It is realizing that it is often hurt people who hurt people.

Archbishop Tutu, in his book, explains a fourfold path of:

Telling the story
Naming the hurt
Granting forgiveness
Renewing or releasing the relationship

It’s an important thing to remember that forgiving someone doesn’t mean becoming best friends with them or even having them in your life.

Of course for some of us, the person we most need to forgive is ourselves, and that is a process as well.

Since Desmond Tutu has literally written the book on forgiveness, let’s give him the last word:

“When I cultivate forgiveness in my small everyday encounters, I am preparing for the time when a much larger act of forgiveness will be asked of me, as it almost certainly will. It seems none of us journeys through life unscathed by tragedy, disappointment, betrayal, or heartbreak, but each of us has at his or her disposal a most powerful skill that lessens and can even transmute the pain. This skill can, when given the chance, win over an enemy, heal a marriage, stop a fight, and—on a global scale—even end a war. When you set out to change the world, the job seems insurmountable. But each of us can do his or her small part to effect change. We can change the world when we choose to create a world of forgiveness in our own hearts and minds.”

“Awakening to New Wonder”

God is bigger than church. Church isn’t the only place you’ll find Him. For a long stretch, church was one of the last places I looked. Nothing against it, but I felt like I connected with God better in nature than in a building.

I still talk to God more outside than I do inside. My most prayerful places are by the water. I treasure those times and those places. Yesterday, Harper and I took our dog walkabout to Wye Island, a place where I have run close to 30 miles at once, have run at night, have lost keys, hiked, reflected, prayed. Our walk didn’t disappoint, following trails, sitting, listening, reading and praying by the river; and Harper would have liked to have chased down her first buck, though I’m not sure what she’d have done with it if I had let her go.

2016-oct-wye-island-osage

I’m a slow learner, and have never been one to take anyone’s word for anything. I have to find things out for myself, experientially, even though it frequently means falling on my face and dusting myself off, eventually coming to the same realization that was suggested at the beginning.

If we only look for God in church, we are selling ourselves, and Him, way short. But I realized I was selling myself, and Him, short by choosing to only look for Him outside a church. And part of what that comes down to is misconceiving “church,” as being just a building, or a set of beliefs. And not seeing it as a people, coming together to worship, quite literally to be the body of Christ, alive in the world. I like the way Richard Rohr looks at the Trinity:

God for us, we call you “Father.”
God alongside us, we call you “Jesus.”
God within us, we call you, “Holy Spirit.”
Together, you are the Eternal Mystery
That enables, enfolds, and enlivens all things,
Even us, and even me.

It’s that understanding, of having God alongside us, and working through other people, and finding that, feeling it, knowing it much deeper when I started to find other people walking their own walk, struggling with their own questions, coming together to worship and to pray and to help one another. Finding church.

Yesterday sitting along the Wye River and this morning in church, I felt grateful; an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Thomas Merton explained what I felt better than I can explain it:

To be grateful is to recognize the Love of God in everything… Every breath we draw is a gift of His love, every moment of existence is a grace, for it brings with it immense graces from Him. Gratitude therefore takes nothing for granted, is never unresponsive, is constantly awakening to new wonder and to praise the goodness of God. – Thomas Merton, “Thoughts in Solitude”

I’m a work in progress. That’s all I will ever be, trying to put one foot in front of another along the path and not be distracted chasing every other SQUIRREL! life throws at me. But gratitude and prayer are pretty good at helping sustain and focus me when I pay attention.

This morning’s sermon was about praying. Can I pray? Can I pray always? Can I pray proactively? Can I be persistent, not just praying when I am troubled, but also when and because I am grateful. The sermon closed with a prayer from Archbishop Desmond Tutu (which he adapted from Sir Francis Drake), which I felt in my bones:

desmond-tutu

Disturb us, O Lord

when we are too well pleased with ourselves
when our dreams have come true because we dreamed too little,
because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, O Lord

when with the abundance of things we possess,
we have lost our thirst for the abundance of life
when, having fallen in love with time,
we have ceased to dream of eternity
and in our efforts to build a new earth
we have allowed our vision of Heaven to grow dim.

Stir us, O Lord

to dare more boldly, to venture into wider seas
where storms show Thy mastery,
where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars.

In the name of Him who pushed back the horizons of our hopes
and invited the brave to follow.

Amen.