Matthew 18:21-35; Romans 14:10-12; Psalm 103:1-13
Gracious and
compassionate God, give us your slowness of anger and your abundance of love in
our relationships with one another. Amen.
If we were to hold a vote for “the one thing I wish
Jesus had never said,” this passage would certainly be in the running for top
place.
The God
we know and love and worship and pray to is the God of Psalm 103, who is
merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
The God of Christianity is a God of grace and
forgiveness, or so we have been led to believe.
But the
God in Jesus’ parable today is one who does
deal with us according to our sins, who does
repay us according to our iniquities.
Like the king in the parable, Jesus says, God will
hold us accountable for every debt, and maybe even torture us until we can pay,
unless we forgive our sister or brother from our heart.
Yikes. That sounds an awful lot like God’s forgiveness
is based on our own action.
And I
don’t know about you, but I’ve always been taught that God’s forgiveness comes
through grace, as a gift, that there’s nothing I can do to earn it and also
nothing that I can do to invalidate it.
Does that sound familiar to you?
But this parable seems to suggest that if I don’t forgive other people, God will not forgive me when I mess up.
And that’s a scary thought.
It’s hard for us to reflect on the God who judges
people, especially when there’s a chance that God’s judgment will be directed
at us.
How can the God of judgment be the same as the God of
compassion?
How is the God represented by the king in this parable also the God who the Psalmist describes as slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love?
How is the God represented by the king in this parable also the God who the Psalmist describes as slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love?
God’s judgment is a difficult topic to discuss, so
we’ll keep that topic on the back burner for now.
Let’s
move first to the condition that God puts on forgiveness – the condition that
makes it sound like God’s grace is conditional.
According to Jesus in Matthew 18, God requires us to
forgive our sister or brother from the heart, if we want to be forgiven.
But what is it that we are supposed to forgive,
anyway?
A few
months ago I got an email from a friend of mine, asking if we were OK. She
thought that she had offended me.
I had no idea what she was talking about. Finally I
realized that she had disagreed with something I posted online a few days
earlier, and she thought that I might still be upset about it.
I
assured her that we were fine.
But that interaction brings up a good point.
If we
don’t recognize when we’ve been wronged, hurt, insulted, or sinned against in
some way, we won’t ever be able to forgive our sister or brother from the
heart.
Right? We have to acknowledge that a wrong has been
done before we can say, “Don’t worry about it, I’m over it, it doesn’t matter
any more.”
So let’s do a little exercise here. The ushers are
going to pass out cards to everyone. There should be pencils in the pews in
front of you, but the ushers have a few extra if you need them.
This
project is going to be confidential, so no peeking at someone else’s paper. It
won’t work unless people feel like they can write without being watched.
Does everyone have a card?
What I want you to do is write out every wrong that
has been done to you so far this weekend.
Really.
That’s the first step towards forgiveness – having something to forgive. It can
be big or small – maybe you got into a fight with your sibling or your spouse.
Maybe a friend stood you up for coffee yesterday or the neighbor neglected (again)
to pick up the present his dog left in your yard. Maybe someone cut you off while you were drying into church this morning.
If you can’t think of a way that someone sinned
against you this weekend, you can go back a couple more days, and think of some
of the ways you were wronged last week. I’m guessing that you won’t have to go
further back than that to remember something that rubbed you the wrong way.
Some of us will have more to write than
others. That’s OK.
Once everyone is finished writing, the ushers are
going to hand out seven more cards, and I want you to take them home with you. At
the end of each day, you need to write down every action that someone made
against you during the day. It’s important to keep track of everything so that
you know what to forgive!
And then
next week, when you come back for worship, you’ll get a whole new set of cards
to last you through the next week.
Oh, and did I mention that every single card that you
write, you have to carry around with you, on your person, for the rest of your
life?
OK, obviously those last things are exaggerations to
prove my point. I don’t really want you to write down every sin that anyone
ever commits against you.
But
imagine what it would be like if you did.
Imagine
what kind of lists you’d accumulate. How heavy the stack of cards would get
after a few months.
Imagine how painful it would be every time you looked
back at any of the previous cards.
And as
we all know, the more we do something, the better we tend to get at it. So if you
actually did take stock of all the
sins that people had made against you every single day, you’d get pretty good
at it. Your list would probably get longer and more detailed each day, and take
more time to write, and consume more of your energy.
It would be torture.
Isn’t that what it’s like when we don’t forgive
others?
Jesus
says that God will torture us unless we forgive our brother or sister from our
heart.
The
question is, does God actually torture us? Or do we bring that torture on
ourselves?
Keeping records of debts owed to us by other people
can be exhausting. Trying to remember every wrong that has ever been done to us
is virtually impossible.
Letting go of that scorecard, on the other hand, can
be liberating.
That’s actually why I wanted you to write something on
those cards this morning. Not so that you would know what it feels like to
account for every sin ever made against you, but so that you would know what it
feels like to let them go.
That’s the literal meaning of the word for
“forgiveness,” by the way. The Greek word, aphiemi,
means “to let go” or “to send away.”
Forgiveness
is a way of taking a weight off your shoulders, of lightening the load, of
un-burdening yourself of something that you’ve been carrying around, that’s
getting in the way of you living life to the fullest.
So let’s let go of our scorecards.
Let’s forgive all those wrongs that other people have
done to us.
One of
the ushers is going to walk down the aisle again, this time with a box. Please
put your card into the box. I don’t expect you to pass it off to your neighbor
– you don’t want them to read it – but you should be able to reach over to the
aisle to put your card in.
No one else is going to read these cards, I promise.
They are all going to be shredded by someone I know, who’s not a member of this
church, and who has promised to shred them without reading anything.
So go ahead, let go of those sins that
people have made against you.
Until they can get shredded though – until our
resentment can get completely destroyed – let’s make do with giving it to God.
The box will sit on the altar once everyone has put their cards in.
And
hopefully, this box can be a symbol for us of what it really means to forgive.
By getting rid of our scorecards, and by bringing them
to the altar, we are offering up our complaints to God and also relinquishing any
ownership of those complaints. God can deal with them from here on out. They
don’t matter to us any more – we have let them go.
Forgiving our sister or brother from the heart means
letting go of any wrong that they’ve done to us – not necessarily forgetting
about it altogether, but finding a way to keep that previous negative action
from interfering with any future positive interactions.
It’s like First Corinthians 13 says – love
keeps no records of wrongs.
Or similarly, in today’s reading from Romans, Paul
makes it clear that God can judge,
but we shouldn’t.
We might
not understand God’s judgment, but that’s not our job. Our only job is to withhold judgment from our brothers and
sisters. We can be in charge of our own actions, and we can be accountable for our
actions to God and God alone. We can toss those scorecards away from us and
move forward assuming the best of one another.
Our job is not to pass judgment on one another, but to
leave that work to God.
God is the judge.
We might
not understand God's judgment, but we can at least understand that God is the
one who has authority, and we don't.
Today’s parable sounds kind of harsh, especially when
we get to the application part of it. But basically Jesus is saying what he
says over and over again to his disciples.
You guys
just don’t get it!
You’re
asking the wrong questions.
You want to know how many times to forgive someone,
Jesus says to Peter? Well I’ll tell you. If you count how many times you
forgive someone, you’re doing it wrong.
Instead, just forgive. Always. And if punishment needs
to happen, let God take care of it. Don’t let your judgment of other people
color your relationship with them.
Let go
of your anger and your bitterness. If you hold on to that, it will eat you up
inside.
Let God take care of those ugly emotions. You? All you
have to do is forgive. Let go. Move on with your life.
Treat others with the compassion that God shows to
you.
And when
you do so, you’ll be more fully able to understand the gift of forgiveness that
God has already given to you.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
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