Sermon based upon Matthew 18:21-35
I feel like poor Peter has
come in for a bashing recently on Sunday mornings! So many of the gospel
stories we’ve heard have centred on his ability to get things wrong, and that’s
the case again today.
Peter thinks he’s being
super generous, abundantly merciful, with his suggestion of offering forgiveness
7 times. The thing is, in the Jewish tradition and wisdom teaching God forgave
3 times and punished at the 4th offence, which I think comes from
Amos where God forgives Israel’s enemies 3 times. Because humans could never be
more gracious than God they could only forgive 3 times and no more, so Peter
with his suggestion of 7 times, more than double what his culture taught, must
have thought Jesus was going to be blown away by his answer.
Cue another instance of
Jesus giving Peter a friendly pat on the shoulder as he shows that yet again
his assumptions are very wrong, and states a figure of 77 times. This isn’t a
literal 77, Jesus is using hyperbole and a playing on the words used in a verse
from Genesis, referred to as the law of vengeance: If Cain is avenged sevenfold, truly Lamech seventy-sevenfold (Gen
4:24). Instead of extreme vengeance Jesus is calling us to extreme mercy and
forgiveness.
To illustrate his point
Jesus tells the parable of the unforgiving servant. The sum of money he owes,
10,000 talents is deliberately extravagant. It’d be millions today, this
illustrates the extreme generosity, mercy and forgiveness he’s shown. The
amount owed the servant, in which he shows no mercy, is just a few quid in
comparison.
Jesus is illustrating that
as God shows us radical forgiveness, we must respond to that by showing radical
forgiveness to others.
I’ve been wondering this
week what was it about the servant, after being shown such mercy and
compassion, that failed to stir up the same mercy and compassion within him?
What was is about his culture and background, his life experiences, that meant
despite the extreme nature of the forgiveness he received, he was unable to
show that, on a much smaller scale, to another?
I’ve probably mentioned it
before but I’m a huge admirer of Desmond Tutu. His theology, his wisdom, the
life he’s led, I admire him a great deal. A few weeks ago, I read some extracts
from an article he’d written about forgiveness at our Thursday morning service,
so apologies to anyone who was there when I repeat myself today.
His work regarding radical
forgiveness, especially heading the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in
post-apartheid South Africa is well known. During that process victims of human
rights violations shared their stories, and perpetrators of those acts were
granted amnesty. What might not be as well-known are the personal struggles he faced, particularly growing up with an alcoholic and abusive father.
He recounts witnessing his
father abusing his mother and says this: When I recall this story, I realise
how difficult the process of forgiving truly is. Intellectually, I know my
father caused pain because he himself was in pain. Spiritually, I know my faith tells me my father
deserves to be forgiven as God forgives us all. But it is still difficult. The
traumas we have witnessed or experienced live on in our memories. Even years
later they can cause us fresh pain each time we recall them.
Intellectually and from a
position of people who belong to Christ we know forgiveness, radical and
unconditional, is what we’re called to, but when the hurts run so deep our
emotions blind us to what our logic or intellect might be telling us. The
article continues:
I know [forgiveness] is the only way to heal the pain in my boyhood
heart. Forgiveness is not dependent on the actions of others. Yes, it is
certainly easier to offer forgiveness when the perpetrator expresses remorse
and offers some sort of reparation or restitution. Then, you can feel as if you
have been paid back in some way. You can say: "I am willing to forgive you
for stealing my pen, and after you give me my pen back, I shall forgive
you." This is the most familiar pattern of forgiveness. We don't forgive
to help the other person. We don't forgive for others. We forgive for
ourselves. Forgiveness, in other words, is the best form of self-interest.
Forgiveness takes practice, honesty, open-mindedness and a willingness
(even if it is a weary willingness) to try. It isn't easy. Perhaps you have
already tried to forgive someone and just couldn't do it. Perhaps you have
forgiven and the person did not show remorse or change his or her behaviour or
own up to his or her offences – and you find yourself unforgiving all over
again.
It is perfectly normal to want to hurt back when you have been hurt. But
hurting back rarely satisfies. We think it will, but it doesn't. If I slap you
after you slap me, it does not lessen the sting I feel on my own face, nor does
it diminish my sadness over the fact that you have struck me. Retaliation
gives, at best, only momentary respite from our pain. The only way to experience
healing and peace is to forgive. Until we can forgive, we remain locked in our
pain and locked out of the possibility of experiencing healing and freedom,
locked out of the possibility of being at peace.
These principals have been carried
over into a UK based project backed by Desmond Tutu called the Forgiveness Project. It’s a charity that uses the stories of both victims and perpetrators
of crime and violence to explore how ideas around forgiveness, reconciliation
and conflict resolution can be used to impact positively on people’s lives.
It’s non-partisan and non-religious but many Christian organisations have been
involved as it so closely reflects Christ’s teaching.
It’s an encouragement to debate, not
holding up forgiveness as an all-healing magic bullet, but rather an
examination of forgiveness as a means to finding resolution, and hopefully,
eventually, transformation. I really recommend exploring the project, reading
some of the stories, because it’s a glimpse of the possible, and I believe a
glimpse of Kingdom living.
I’ve used a lot of Desmond Tutu’s
words today, and I’m going to use some more, because his lived experiences mean
he puts this better that I ever could:
A human life is a great mixture of goodness, beauty, cruelty,
heartbreak, indifference, love and so much more. All of us share the core
qualities of our human nature and so sometimes we are generous and sometimes
selfish. Sometimes we are thoughtful and other times thoughtless; sometimes we
are kind and sometimes cruel. This is not a belief. This is a fact.
No one is born a liar or a rapist or a terrorist. No one is born full of
hatred. No one is born full of violence. No one is born in any less glory or
goodness than you or me. But on any given day, in any given situation, in any
painful life experience, this glory and goodness can be forgotten, obscured or
lost. We can easily be hurt and broken, and it is good to remember that we can
just as easily be the ones who have done the hurting and the breaking.
The simple truth is, we all make mistakes, and we all need forgiveness.
There is no magic wand we can wave to go back in time and change what has
happened or undo the harm that has been done, but we can do everything in our
power to set right what has been made wrong. We can endeavour to make sure the
harm never happens again.
There are times when all of us have been thoughtless, selfish or cruel.
But no act is unforgivable; no person is beyond redemption. Yet, it is not easy
to admit one's wrongdoing and ask for forgiveness. "I am sorry" are
perhaps the three hardest words to say.
We can come up with all manner of justifications to excuse what we have
done. When we are willing to let down our defences and look honestly at our
actions, we find there is a great freedom in asking for forgiveness and great strength
in admitting the wrong. It is how we free ourselves from our past errors. It is
how we are able to move forward into our future, unfettered by the mistakes we
have made.
The parable of the ungrateful servant
is both a parable of seeking forgiveness and of forgiving. It shows us how much
can be forgiven when we know we’re wrong and we ask for forgiveness, and it
also shows us how much hurt can come when we don’t give forgiveness when people
ask it of us.
I don’t know what it was within the
servant that meant he couldn’t find a way into forgiveness, but that inability
led to the continuing suffering of both himself and the man asking for
forgiveness. God requires us to be as generous in our forgiveness as he is with
us, which we know is infinite. It’s a big ask, and it’s not easy at all, but it
does contain the power to transform lives.
