18A Pentecost                                 Matthew 18:21-35                               Sept. 14, 2008

This past week we marked the 7th anniversary of the terrorist attack on 9/11.
In the news you may have noted that each of the major candidates took time to pay their respects at the memorial site in New York City.
I suspect there were prayers said and some speeches made and that is all well and good.
To be honest however, I’m thinking a time of silence and reflection might be a better use time, a time to consider the tragic events of that day and the actions we have taken since then.
And I wonder if such moments of silence took place, how much thought would be given toward the act of forgiveness?
I don’t ask this because I want to be ornery and difficult, but rather, because today’s gospel reading lifts up this extravagant and radical notion of forgiveness.

I know and you know that we have a hard time with forgiveness.
We have never been quick to forgive.
And yet, I know and I know you know that forgiveness is both necessary for our lives; it is also at the heart of the faith we confess.
To be a disciple of Christ is to forgive.
And yet, even as followers of Jesus…we stumble, we make excuses, we desire it and we withhold it and we are consumed by our failure or inability to forgive.

In today’s reading Peter raises the question—a good question—an important question: How many times do I have to forgive?

It was an important question at the time it was raised and it continues to be an important question in this day and age.
It is an important question because we all know that forgiveness is not easy and we live in a society that does not value forgiveness—at least not until we have gotten our pound of flesh in retribution.

Thinking back on the events of seven years ago we are reminded that there is enormous evil in the world and there has never been a time in the history of the world, as we know it, when there has not been occasions of deep, deep pain.
We live in a world where children are abused and neglected, individuals are raped and humiliated, and spouses are abused emotionally and physically.
We live in a world where those who we have loved and trusted have betrayed us and in turn we have done the same in a spirit of revenge.
In the midst of all this we are sometimes hesitant to even talk about forgiveness because we fear it might not be even possible to forgive or even appropriate.

Then there are those smaller, everyday matters of forgiveness that come about as we try to live with others at home, at school, at work, and at church.
Small seemly petty matters can sow seeds of bitterness. Conflicts fester and grow into deep and painful wounds, and forgiveness does not come easily.

In the days following 9/11 I don’t recall hearing a lot of talk about forgiveness.
Instead the talk consisted mostly of retribution, revenge, seeking out those responsible and punishing them in an equally horrific manner.
Those who were daring enough to speak of forgiveness were often shouted down, held with disdain, looked upon as un-American and for all practical purposes-ignored.
It seems to me that somewhere along the line forgiveness has somehow come to have a bad reputation. It is equated with weakness.
It just seems wimpy.
And if forgiveness means being a doormat, well than you can count us out.

And maybe that’s the problem—we have a screwed up understanding of what forgiveness is.
It has always been my understanding that forgiving another does not mean that what they did was OK. Forgiving another does not excuse or condone hurtful behavior.
Someone I ran across this week offered this definition of forgiveness: It involves going to the person who wrong you, either in person, or if that is not possible, in your mind, and saying, “It’s not all right. I don’t understand and I will never understand. You have hurt me deeply. But I choose to forgive.”
In other words, forgiveness means that we give up our right for revenge.
We forgive not just for the sake of the other person; we forgive for our own sake.
That may sound selfish—but it is true—and it is necessary if we are going to live healthy and peace-filled lives.
By forgiving, we break the hold the one who has wronged us has on us.
To forgive means that first of all, we have to take the pain caused seriously.

A child running through the house tipped over a glass vase, sending it smashing to the floor.
His father helped him pick up the pieces before his mother got home.
“It’s alright,” his father said. “It’s only a piece of glass.” 

When the mother arrived home, she was shocked to see that her beloved vase, an heirloom from her mother and grandmother and great-grandmother, was no longer in it s place.
When she learned what happened, she burst into tears. Amid her tears she hugged her child.
They cried together in her embrace.

Of the mother and the father, which one extended true forgiveness?
The father was concerned about the child, but he didn’t really offer forgiveness.
He brushed off what had happened as nothing—it was just a piece of glass.
To forgive another, you first have to acknowledge there is something that needs forgiving.

There is a common perception out there that there are certain persons who do not deserve forgiveness—what they have done is so awful it should not be forgiven—names like Adolph Hitler, Charlie Manson, Osama Bin Laden to name a few.
And this may be true—forgiveness may not be deserved—but to be honest—we do not forgive simply for the sake of the other—we forgive for our own sake.
We let go of our right for revenge because to not let go is to harm ourselves and to prevent much needed healing to take place.

As I mentioned earlier, September 11th marked the 7th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on our soil. September 11th marked another anniversary, one that did not make the headlines—it was the 20th anniversary of my ordination.
An ordination I might add that might not have taken place had there not been an act of forgiveness that had taken place.
Let me explain. On October 22nd I will remember the 29th anniversary of my mother’s death - a death caused by a drunk driver.
As you might imagine, such a death had a huge impact, as I was a senior in college, my sister Anne was a freshman and my youngest sister, Mary Jane was in junior high.
My mother was 41 years old.
In the week following my mother’s death, my father, unbeknownst to us at the time, went to visit the young woman responsible for my mother’s death.
I am told that my dad visited with her, prayed with her and extended his forgiveness.
How did he do that?  I’m not entirely sure.
What I do know however is that his act of forgiveness made it possible for me to also forgive her.
His willingness to forgive backed up everything I had heard him say on those countless Sunday mornings when he stood in the pulpit and spoke about forgiveness.
I sometimes wonder, had he not extended that gift of forgiveness—where might I be and what might I be doing and would I have forgiven her.
Or would I still be wandering around with that cancerous resentment and anger within me?
At a point in my life when it would have been easy to blame God, blame the driver of the car and to point to the hypocrisy of talking about forgiving and never doing it—my father stepped up to the plate and demonstrated forgiveness and in doing so helped me get to that place as well.

I feel very fortunate to have grown up in a home where forgiveness was more than a religious platitude.
A home where I knew that no matter how much I might mess up, grace and forgiveness would be there to embrace me.
And I feel fortunate that I had and have parents that modeled forgiveness and taught me to forgive even though the rest of society has difficulty when it comes to forgiving others.

Methodist Bishop William Willimon writes: “The human animal is not supposed to be good at forgiveness. Forgiveness is not some innate, natural human emotion. Vengeance, retribution, violence, these are natural human qualities. It is natural for the human animal to defend it’s self, to snarl and crouch into a defensive position when attacked, to howl when wronged, to bite back when bitten.”

Forgiveness is not natural; retribution is natural.
We want to keep score.
We want to keep track of having been wrong, and for some strange reason we also have this odd desire to stew in our resentment and anger.
But when we do this, when we insist on keeping score, of getting even, we are nearly always the loser in the end.

I lost track of who wrote this, but it seems to capture the spirit of our dilemma when we refuse to forgive and when choose to stew and brood over our resentments.

The moment you start to resent a person you become their slave.
They control your dreams,
absorb your digestion,
rob you of peace of mind and good will,
and take away the pleasure of your work.

They ruin you spirituality and nullify your prayers.
You cannot take a vacation without them going along.
They destroy your freedom of mind and hound you wherever you go.
There is no way to escape the person you resent.
They are with you when you are awake.
They invade your privacy when you sleep.
They are close beside you when you eat,
when you drive your car,
and when you are on the job.

You can never have efficiency or happiness.
They influence even the tone of your voice.
They require you to take medication for indigestion, headaches and loss of energy.
They even steal your last moments of consciousness before you go to sleep.

So, if you want to be a slave, harbor your resentments.

In case the message has not come through—
Forgiveness is not easy.
If it were -- we would live in an entirely different world.
But even though it is not easy—
Jesus calls us to forgive—
not once, not three times, not seven times—
but seventy times seven—
other words—don’t even bother trying to keep track—because if you are keeping track you really have not forgiven them and you have missed the point of the story all together!

Having said all that—Jesus knows that forgiveness does not come all at once.
We can only forgive when we have been hurt, and sometimes it takes a long time for the hurt to be truly felt.
Forgiveness does not excuse behavior, and it does not say that what happened was all right.
But forgiveness does allow us to continue living, rather than being consumed with anger and vengeance.
It is through forgiveness that we not only bring healing to others, we begin to heal ourselves.

I am often quick to lift up my Dad as a mentor when it comes to forgiveness and yet, I know that fact of forgiveness would not and could not have been possible without our chief mentor of forgiveness Jesus Christ. Through Christ, God’s forgiveness is offered freely. God’s grace and mercy are wide enough to encompass us all. It is in our experience of being forgiven that we are able to ourselves forgive others.

“How many times must I forgive?” asked Peter.
That’s the wrong question.
Better to ask, “How much have I been forgiven?”
When we have first pondered God’s grace and mercy, when we first understand that we are loved and accepted by god, then forgiveness just may be possible.
Living a life of forgiveness, living with a desire for reconciliation, is not easy.
We all know that.
But the practice of forgiveness is simply a part of the faith that we profess.
Amen

Pastor Stephen P. Blenkush
Zion Lutheran Church
Milaca, MN

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