Forgiveness, can you imagine?

Matthew 18:21-35

I can see it on your faces: Here we go again, another scripture about conflict. Another word on forgiveness. What is it your trying to tell us pastor?

Let me say that, to my knowledge, there is no big brewing beneath the surface conflict in our church. If there is, someone needs to let me or the session know so that it can be handled and not fester.

To plan and aid in the planning of our worship services year-round we use a tool called the lectionary.

The Revised Common Lectionary is a three-year cycle of weekly lections used to varying degrees by the majority of mainline Protestant churches in Canada and the United States. The RCL is built around the seasons of the Church Year, and includes four lections for each Sunday, as well as additional readings for major feast days. During most of the year, the lections are: a reading from the Hebrew Bible, a Psalm, a reading from the Epistles, and a Gospel reading. During the season of Easter, the Hebrew Bible lection is usually replaced with one from the Acts of the Apostles. It runs in three-year cycles, year A, B and C. We are in year A, for those of you who are curious.

This tool helps pastors, teachers and churches cover a larger scope of scripture than when relying upon individual presences.

Often themes will emerge in the selected lectionary passages, just as they emerge in the scriptures themselves. Right now, we are in the book of Matthew, where Jesus is teaching about community. As a community, you will deal with conflict and forgiveness.

Today’s passage from Matthew is right after last week’s section, where we heard that there can be a lot of steps necessary to bring conflicted persons together in the body of Christ.

After hearing such an honestly labor-intensive conflict resolution model, Peter asks “How many times do we have to do this? Seven?” Seven is a good biblical number, a number of completeness. It is a generous number. In our society, we often use the phrase, “fool me once shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.” Forgiving a third time might be seen as the charm. But forgiving the same person 7 times, that is beyond generous.

However, Jesus says “Nope, not seven Peter, seventy times seven, or seven times seven, or seventy-seven- depending on the translation.” No matter which of those numbers you go with, that’s a lot of forgiving going on for the same person sinning against you.

Jesus says essentially- there is no limit on forgiveness. Then he tells a story, a parable. This parable, called the unmerciful servant points out the contrast between forgiveness received and forgiveness given. There is a lot going on in this story and honestly, it’s never been my favorite. But this week I’ve found a lot of sustaining life-giving content in its words.

There is a king who is looking at his books, so it must be around April because no one does their taxes before then. He notices that there is one particular servant who owes him ten thousand talents. A word on exchange rates. A talent was roughly 130lbs of silver, which would take about fifteen years for a laborer to earn. Just one talent. SO, this servant owes 150, 000 years’ worth of wages to the king.

He would never ever be able to repay this debt. So, the king orders him, and his wife, and his children and all his possessions, sold to pay the debt. The servant begs for this not to happen, and the king relents. He forgives the unpayable debt, out of pity, not because he must, but because he wants to do so.

That is an amazing level of forgiveness. Even with most of our student loans, house payments, car loans etc., none of us can imagine having that debt repaid. This man has just had 150,000 years wages forgiven. And he walks out of the place and bumps into an old friend.

This old friend owes him 100 denarii, or roughly 100 days wages. He grabs the guy by the throat and says in his best mob voice” pay up or else.” The man can’t pay and so, he has the man arrested and thrown in jail for the debt.

Others who witnessed this event were distraught and brought it to the kings’ attention. This was a violent act, and your behavior reflects upon the one you call Lord.

The king’s anger is stoked and he orders the man to be tortured until his original debt is repaid. Until he can literally get his pound of flesh.

Th e Jesus adds an ominous “SO my father will do to each of you who does not forgive from your heart.”

This is a difficult passage to say the least. Difficult to hear, and difficult to follow. I think far too often it has been looked at as prescriptive- forgive everything and if you do then you won’t be tortured in hell. Most of my life I have heard it used to keep people who have been hurt from standing up for themselves. It has been used to say quietly turn the other cheek. It has been used by people who would harm and abuse “You’re a Christian, you’re supposed to forgive.” People have said to me as they intentionally caused harm.

But I don’t think that’s the point of this passage at all. I see two things in this passage that jump out as lifegiving, life affirming, that the unmerciful servant misses.

One, the servant is forgiven an immense debt, more than any of us can imagine. Then he goes out and grabs another debtor by the throat. It’s not just that he won’t forgive his friend, that’s bad enough, but here he has received an amazing gift, grace, unmerited favor- and he seems untouched by it at all. He has no sense of any gratitude. As David Lose says “his whole life changed . . . and he didn’t even notice.”

“As we approach the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, it occurs to me that Martin Luther’s great insight was simply realizing that righteousness was not God’s expectation but instead God’s gift. It wasn’t his responsibility to be “right with God,” but God’s responsibility to put him right. And once he realized that some of God’s favorite things to do are to forgive those who seem unforgivable, love those who feel unlovable, and make right those things that seem so persistently in the wrong, Luther was not only freed from his fear of punishment, but also freed to love and forgive and care for those around him. So also, I think, with forgiveness – when we realize that forgiveness is not primarily God’s expectation but rather God’s gift, we sink into that mercy and grace and find ourselves more able to turn in mercy and grace toward others.”1

We rejoice together in the forgiveness we have received. Let us also rejoice in the forgiveness we have given.

Forgiveness allows us to begin to heal, even those things that are painful, those times when someone doesn’t want to own up to hurting you, those times that seem to hurt you even more each time you remember; those words or actions that scar you so deeply; even these things can begin to heal once forgiveness is applied.

A great example of forgiveness to heal is Nelson Mandela, the man on our bulletin this morning, who spent 27 years in prison for trying to end white minority rule by violence in South Africa. 20 years after his release from prison, he invited one of his jailers to the celebratory dinner. The two developed a friendship. He invited another former guard to his inauguration. He ate with people who had tried to have him killed. “When a deep injury is done to us, we never heal until we forgive.”

As part of a community, people are aware of our actions. We watch one another, good and bad. In the story Jesus tells the community sees the behavior of the unmerciful servant. The community comes to the throne of the king and says, “this man is dealing poorly with his neighbor.”

As the community of faith, we are to hold one another accountable. We are not to watch so that we may punish, or criticize, after all Romans tells us not to judge. But we watch so that we can remind one another of the grace received. So that we might help one another to reach out with grace, even when it is easier to reach with a clenched fist.

In our country, in our state, in our city, in our church- whenever it is that we see fellow Christians reaching towards vengeance instead of grace- we need to be ready to call attention to it. By prayer and by confrontation, as described in last Sundays’ text.

Every one of us has been given mercy, offered help, grace, and forgiveness. Not one of us could come before God if it was not for the saving death of Jesus Christ. We have been ransomed, redeemed and reconciled only because of God’s grace. None of us can take any credit for these things.

And that is why we should extend grace and mercy, not because of fear of punishment, but out of joy at the forgiveness already in hand.

Forgiveness is a gift, one we cannot afford to keep to ourselves. “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Jesus offered forgiveness from the cross. Let us rejoice, celebrate, live lives so filled with the acknowledgement of this act of grace that we must be grace-filled with or brothers and sisters.

Saving Scraps; a sermon from Matthew 15:10-28

Matthew 15:10-28

The Old Turtle and the broken truth. I asked Beth to read this book as the children’s message this morning specifically as an introduction to this morning’s scripture. The story of a world holding up the mantra You are Loved, sounds amazing, sounds peaceful, sounds Holy, and it is, but it is not the whole message.

You are a child of God. It’s an amazing, peaceful, Holy thing. But it’s not the whole truth, not by a long shot.

Let us listen for the word of God.

Read Matt 15:10-28

10 Then he called the crowd to him and said to them, “Listen and understand:  it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles.”  Then the disciples approached and said to him, “Do you know that the Pharisees took offense when they heard what you said?”  He answered, “Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be uprooted. Let them alone; they are blind guides of the blind. And if one blind person guides another, both will fall into a pit.” But Peter said to him, “Explain this parable to us.”  Then he said, “Are you also still without understanding? Do you not see that whatever goes into the mouth enters the stomach, and goes out into the sewer? But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this is what defiles. For out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile.”

 Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.”  He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”  But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” He answered, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Then Jesus answered her, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

The Word of God, for the People of God.

I have struggled and wrestled and fought with this scripture so much this week that it has seeped into my relationships with other people. I’ve talked about this scripture with friends and family. I’ve fought about this scripture with my Mom, and blessed the truth of these verses and found agreement with my brother. I even considered naming this sermon “Going to the Dogs” but couldn’t bring myself to be bold enough to put it in the bulletin.

I love and have loved this passage of scripture. It is an honest, clear theological debate between Jesus and a woman. And, like most of us in this world, my ears perk up when someone I perceive as “like me” is mentioned in scripture. I’ve had an affinity with this persistent, loud mouth woman who refuses to give up. I’ve admired her tenacity, her spirit. This woman, who gets in a theological debate with the Messiah, has always been my hero.

But there’s been a part that is unsatisfying about her story. Most of my life I have heard it interpreted in this manner.

Jesus is with the disciples, perhaps tiered in spirit if not physically, and this annoying woman makes her plea. Jesus ignores her, then denies her to test her. If she passes this litmus test of faith, her daughter will be healed. If not, well, let’s not think about this too much.

When viewed from this perspective, the woman, and her sick daughter, are turned into an object lesson with little to no actual value of their own. And that bothers me.

It bothers me because it doesn’t jive with the way Jesus acts in the Gospels in general and in Matthew specifically. It bothers me because it dismisses the experience as nothing more than a training exercise. It bothers me because the langue of test is nowhere in this scripture. It bothers me because it isn’t true, to the character of Christ, or to the witness of scripture.

Too often this story is read in isolation, which is why I choose to add verses 10-20 to our reading today. Context is key.

This section comes at the end of a discussion about the Pharisees and their purity culture obsession. They were so concerned about remaining pure and clean that they created an entire system of dos and don’ts and ins and outs. These laws and systems had become oppressive, rather than life affirming. They had been twisted and turned to keep people down instead of uniting God’s people under a shared identity. They had become tools to harm rather than signs of holiness.

Jesus argues against such systems, using words that would make any little boy giggle, saying that it’s not what you put into your body that makes you unclean, it’s what comes out of you that is unclean. Jesus’ potty humor here may make you smile, or may offend you, but it has a purpose. He goes on to say that it’s what comes out of the mouth, the words you speak, that show the cleanliness or uncleanliness of your heart.

Immediately following this we have the Canaanite woman calling out “Have mercy on me Lord, Son of David.” This is shocking and unexpected. Why?

Well a couple of reasons. One, Canaanites had not been around for many, many years. The promised land had been the land of Canaan, and the region had been “cleansed” shall we say by the Israelites as they moved in.

There were not a group of people who called themselves Canaanites at this time, it was an ancient label meant to evoke a feeling, an image. “Outsider, other, Gentile.”

This woman was not Jewish, she was not of the family of Abraham, she was not a part of the family of God.

She however, has heard of this Jesus, this Lord, this Son of David, and as a mother, will do anything, even speak publicly to a man she is not related to in any way shape or form, for the sake of her ailing child.

And Jesus ignores her.

Perhaps he is exhausted from the crowds. Perhaps he doesn’t hear her. Perhaps he thinks one of the disciples will step up. These are all arguments I’ve heard, but they go in the face of what is on the page. He does not answer her at all.

He couldn’t have missed her crying out, described as squawking, and to be sure he doesn’t miss it, the disciples beg him to send her away. Send away this gentile, loud obnoxious women, Jesus. Her begging for mercy is getting on our nerves, we are sick of it. She needs to be quiet and go back where she comes from.

The disciples are uncomfortable. This Gentile woman is making a scene with her asking/demanding for mercy and healing. She should know better, she should know her place.

And Jesus doesn’t seem to disagree. “I was sent to the lost children of Israel.” That’s it. Jesus was sent to the people of Israel and everyone else is just out of luck.

She however, she persisted. She did not give up. She hit her knees in the dirt before him and again cried out “Lord, help me!”

Jesus looks at her there on her knees and says, “It’s not right to take the children’s food and give it to the dogs.”

Yes, this is Jesus here, calling a woman, an entire group of people, dogs. And not in the cute and cuddly, I love that puppy kind of way. Dogs were not pets. They were utilitarian at best, used as living alarm systems. But more often than not, they were scavengers, roaming the outskirts of town and launching missions into populated areas in search of food.

 Jesus say his mission as being to the children of Israel. The chosen people. God’s people. This gentile woman did not fit into the picture. She complicated things, perhaps even made him as uncomfortable as she made the disciples. She didn’t fit into how Jesus saw this whole thing working out.

And that’s a hard thing for many of us to hear. Jesus had to learn. As Jill Duffield points out perhaps at this point, “How can this be? He is Jesus, Son of Man, Son of God, Son of David, divine, Jesus!

But he's fully human too, remember? Without sin, but fully human, and being fully human encompasses grief, frustration, desperation, fatigue, love, compassion and indifference. And I find this messy display of Jesus' complex discernment a relief. If Jesus has these feelings they are not only allowed, but sanctified and holy. It is also a relief to know that our circumstances today, no matter how dire or seemingly intractable, are not destined to be our circumstances forever. God is, after all, always doing a new thing, and Jesus in this story proves that truth.”[i]

The woman does not give up at this point, but instead says “Even the dogs get to eat scraps.” And with those words, in that moment. Jesus learns more about himself, recognizes more about his calling. He sounds joyful to me as he is honestly surprised by this gentile woman’s faith. His tone is celebratory as he agrees to heal her daughter and to step into this part of his mission, as a savior to not only Israel, but to the world.

It is as if she showed him the other half of that truth, you are loved, and so are they.

That is the truth that Jesus, for lack of a better word, learns in his encounter with the Canaanite Gentile woman. There is a wildness in God’s mercy. It spreads farther than we can imagine and is deeper than we can fathom.

Sometimes I am guilty of forgetting that truth. Sure, I know God is no made in my image. I know that God is reflected in the eyes and faces of all nations, races, genders. But it’s not always easy to see.

Jesus didn’t take the easy road here, and neither should we. We need to speak out against the things that are sinful, that harm God’s people, like the sin of While nationalism, the sin of Neo-Nazi attitudes and actions. These things must be condemned in the strongest of ways.

At the same time, we must not become that which we condemn. We must pray for, love, seek to teach those whose sins lead to actions and words of hate. We must not fight fire with fire, because if we keep doing that, the only thing that will happen is the whole world will burn.

The woman could have yelled at Jesus to treat her better. She could have spat in his face, called him racist and shook the dust off of her feet. She could have led a group of demonstrators against him. She could have called for Jesus and his people to be attacked. But instead, she humbled herself before him and honestly spoke of her need.

We need to humble ourselves before God and ask for what we really need. Healing, forgiveness, unity. We must listen when our brothers and sisters tell us what their lives are like. We must acknowledge that, in the words of Will Wheaton “It is a privilege to learn about racism instead of experiencing it your whole life!”

We must be willing to open our eyes, minds and hearts, just like Jesus. And have faith that the God in whose image we are all created, will heal us all.

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[i] Jill Duffield, Looking into the Lectionary