Goodies and Baddies

I used this short homily at both our 8am and 6pm services today. It's based upon Luke 10.25-37 (The Parable of the Good Samaritan).

I’m not sure if any of you are familiar with the Austin Powers films? They’re a spoof on the classic James Bond films with our super-spy hero battling super-villains. We have our goody and our baddy. If we had any doubts who we should be rooting for our baddy is called “Dr Evil”, so it’s pretty clear. 

In one memorable scene a henchman, who must be evil because he works for Dr Evil, is mowed down by a steam roller, driven by our hero, and killed. What happens next is played for laughs but is ridiculously clever. We cut to a women happily baking in her kitchen. The phone rings and it’s The Evil Corporation sadly informing her of her henchman husband’s death. We learn the henchman was a model husband and step-dad and his loss devastates his family.

How many films have we watched where nameless “baddies” were killed off by the heroes? But it’s ok because they were the baddies. Films very often have this very black and white approach to who’s good and who’s bad, often relying on our own prejudice to help us root for the hero. In Die Hard the baddy is German, in Back to the Future the baddies are Libyan, in other films they may be Russian, ugly or scarred, or in the Case of Star Wars, English. Sometimes they’re even a priest.

The thing is we all have prejudice however subtle, and much of the time it can be cultural, as with the people Jesus was living amongst hating Samaritans. If in first century Palestine you’d put the words “good” and “Samaritan” together in a Jewish community they would’ve been outraged. It’s hard for us to get our heads around how radical Jesus was being here because “Samaritan”, through our familiarity with the parable represents compassion, kindness and goodness. 

The Jews hated Samaritans. Hated. In the words of retired bishop and theologian Tom Wright Samaritans were wrong. Everything about them was wrong. Wrong worship, wrong theology and wrong behaviour. Religious division going back centuries caused this particular people to be despised by the Jewish community more than any other. 

Now not only is this man from a despised people portrayed as the goody of our story, but the upright Jewish people – the priest and Levite – are the baddies. This would have been outrageous to the listeners. 

Now I don’t believe the priest or the Levite were bad, they were just misguided in how to serve God. They were trying to keep the law, stay undefiled, by not touching what was potentially a dead body. and yet in the Samaritan we see grace and love and mercy. We see God reflected in this despised man who asked no questions about who the victim was or how he got to be there. He cared for him and ultimately saved his life. 

So we have to ask the uncomfortable question, who do I have any prejudice or preconceived ideas against? Because they are our neighbours. Are we antisemitic? The Jews are our neighbours; Islamophobic? The Muslims are our neighbours; Homophobic? The LGBTQ+ community are our neighbours; Misogynist? Women are our neighbours; Xenophobic? All races are or neighbours; anti-immigration? Immigrants are our neighbours? Faithful? Atheists are our neighbours; Atheist? People of faith are our neighbours…and the list goes on and on.

I said in my sermon last week there is no “us” and “them” just a universal “us” as a whole, every person we meet is our neighbour, everyone we connect with or interact with is made in God’s image and loved.

If we are people who profess to love Jesus and follow his teachings we can't ignore any person we meet in need, no matter what our perceptions of them, no matter whether we judge them as being “good” or “bad”. This really is one of the most radical things Jesus has taught us, and one of the most difficult to live out.

The F Word

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 4^th 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.

This belief, of forgiveness bringing us Peace and Healing, was central to the Truth and Reconciliation commission. The acts requiring forgiveness would be to us inhuman, barbaric, and yet forgiveness, radical and Christ-like was offered.

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. 

I desire mercy

Advent Day Two

One of the readings at Morning Prayer today was from Matthew 12, where Jesus echoes Hosea when saying:

But if you had known what this means, “I desire mercy and not sacrifice”, you would not have condemned the guiltless.

It made me think about how I could maybe try and be more "merciful" through Advent. We're a very strange sort of people. If someone is off with us, or not as friendly as we'd expect, instead of thinking "are they ok?" We seem to jump to asking "what's their problem?!"
As joyful and joyous as Christmas can be it's also a season that can bring worry, loneliness, debt, stress and bad memories. One thing I will try to do this Advent is not jump to conclusions or take it personally if I encounter people who are grumpy or a bit off with me- none of us knows the problems and struggles of the people we casually meet each day. They may just be a grumpy toad, or they may be in need of a bit of compassion.