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Forgiveness. Great word. Great concept. We believe in it.
We love it. We live it. Right? Say AMEN!
There was a man who loved dogs. He served as a speaker in
various civic clubs to benefit the SPCA. He was known far and
wide as a dog lover. One day his neighbor observed as he poured
a new sidewalk from his house out to the street. About the time
he smoothed out the last square foot of cement a large dog
strayed across his sidewalk leaving footprints in his wake. The
man muttered something under his breath and smoothed out the
footprints. He went inside to get some twine to string up around
the sidewalk only to discover dog tracks in two directions on his
new sidewalk. He smoothed those out and put up the twine. About
five minutes later he looked out and the footprints indicated
that the dog had cleared the fence, landed on his sidewalk and
proceeded as he desired. The man was mad now. He toweled the
wet concrete smooth again. As he got back to the porch he saw
the dog come over and sit right in the middle of his sidewalk.
He went inside got his gun and came out and shot the dog dead.
The neighbor rushed over, "Why did you do that?" he inquired, "I
thought you loved dogs." The man responded as he cradled his gun
in the crook of his arm. "I do, I do like dogs. But that's in
the abstract. I hate dogs in the concrete."(1)
I wonder if it might not be the same with forgiveness. We
love it in the abstract, but when we really have something to
forgive, we hate it in the concrete.
Louis Untermeyer in his biography of poet Heinrich Heine(2)
describes the spirit of the world: "Forgiving was not Heine's
business nor his specialty. 'My nature is the most peaceful in
the world', he wrote with deceptive mildness. 'All I ask is a
simple cottage, a decent bed, good food, some flowers in front of
my window, and a few trees beside my door. Then, if God wanted
to make me completely happy, he would let me enjoy the spectacle
of six or seven of my enemies dangling from those trees. I would
forgive them all the wrongs they have done me - forgive them from
the bottom of my heart, for we must forgive our enemies. But not
until they are hanged!'"(3)
In our gospel lesson, I will give Peter more credit than
that. I get the impression that he was genuinely trying to be
generous in his quest for guidance. "Lord, if another member of
the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many
as seven times?" Seven times is a LOT! Have you ever had
occasion to forgive someone SEVEN TIMES? "Fool me once, shame on
you; fool me twice, shame on me!" After three or four times, I
doubt that I would want to get anywhere NEAR you! Even the
rabbis taught that three times is sufficient. Peter was doubling
that and adding one for good measure. But Jesus says, "Not seven
times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times." Or depending on
your translation, "seventy times seven!" Either way, a LOT!
Then comes this strange story about the king and his slave.
The slave owes the king something akin to the amount of the US
national debt. (By way of information, the annual tax revenues
that King Herod collected were about 900 talents, so the 10,000
talents would have amount to the national revenue for more than
eleven years.) The king forgives the debt, just writes it off
when the fellow pleads for mercy. Then this stupid slave
confronts a compatriot who owes him the equivalent of $16.00 and,
ignoring a request for mercy, has him thrown into jail. The rest
of the slaves cannot believe what has happened, so they tattle-tale to the king, and the result, as we all know, is not pretty. The point? A forgiving spirit is crucial to life together, and
especially in the church (because remember, the hypothetical sin
of a member of the church is what prompted Peter's question).
Even outside the church, the world knows that forgiveness is
at the heart of the Christian message. Perhaps you recall last
Easter and the half-dozen articles that appeared that day in the
Greensboro News & Record.(4) All were about forgiveness. There
was the one about Ron Cotton who went to prison in 1984 for two
rapes he did not commit. Sentenced to life plus 54 years, the
Gibsonville man was angry at police and prosecutors, his own
lawyers and even the victims. But after three years in prison,
Cotton began to change. "I learned I couldn't continue to live
with the hatred and the bitterness," he says. Cotton spent
nearly 11 years in prison before a new lawyer, using DNA
evidence, won his release this past June. But from the moment he
forgave, Cotton's spirit was free. There IS freedom in
forgiveness.
There was the story of Chet Hodgin of Jamestown, a friend of mine (we are in Rotary together) who
considers himself a good Christian, and he is pretty sure he
understands what Christian forgiveness entails, but has a whole
lot of trouble offering carte blanche absolution. Chet has two
very powerful reasons: his son Keith, who was murdered in 1991 in
Asheville by a man he had fired, and his son Kevin, a pizza
deliveryman who was shot and killed in 1992 during a robbery. So
far as he knows, the killers have not sought his forgiveness.
From what he knows of them, he does not think that is likely,
either. So he does not feel obliged to forgive them now. Could
he ever forgive them if they repented? "I would not necessarily
say yes; we'll talk about it when the time comes," he says. "You
can play 'what-if' games all day long."
"Don't try to tell me that I should feel guilty, because I
have no intention at this point to forgive the animals -- and be
sure and use that word -- who viciously murdered my sons. And
anyone who (disagrees) has never walked in my shoes."
We can identify with that. Will Willimon, dean of the
chapel at Duke, writes: "Forgiveness is not natural; it is not a
universal human virtue. Vengeance, retribution, violence are
more natural human qualities. It is natural for humans to defend
themselves, to snarl and crouch into a defensive position when
attacked, to howl when hurt, to bite back when bitten."(5)
Did you hear about the pastor who quit to go to medical
school? "Folks don't want spiritual health. They just want to
feel good", she explained. After practicing medicine for three
years, she quit to go to law school. "Folks still want to feel
good," she said, "but, in the end folks just want to get even,
and THAT is what makes them feel good."(6)
Of course, one wishes that folks DID come to church in
search of spiritual health, and that they WOULD feel good once
they found it. Sadly, such is not always the case.
A recent research project dealing with former members of
Lutheran churches (and I am sure the same would apply to
Presbyterians or any other denomination) found that they left,
because the congregation "failed them in their time of greatest
need (for example, when they were experiencing divorce, personal
crisis, loss of job, emotional difficulties, problems with
children, and so forth). Former members frequently used the term
"judgmental attitude" (meaning being judged negatively) to
describe their perceptions of the way they were viewed or treated
by the pastor and members."(7) That made them angry, so they left.
Unfortunately, the stories of real or imagined hurts in
churches could fill libraries. Someone gets upset because they
were not recognized for bringing a package of napkins to the
church dinner. Someone else is angry that this or that person
failed to say Hello. Another one is mad because no one came to
see them in the hospital (and that despite the fact that no one
bothered to let the church know about being there). One is upset
that she is always being asked to help, another is angry because
she is never asked. The list could go on and on. Church can be
a tough place.
For what it is worth, the phenomenon is not new. Even in
the earliest days, church folk had their problems. No doubt that
is what prompted Paul to write to the Romans telling them to stop
quarreling with one another and criticizing each other's way of
observing the faith. He says, "So then, each of us will be
accountable to GOD. Let us therefore no longer pass judgment on
one another..." I wish the church had taken his advice, but in
almost 2,000 years, the record is not pretty.
A friend has suggested imagining having a brand new Cadillac
sitting in your driveway.(8) It is painted one of those new
exquisite colors. You open the door, get inside and look around
at the luxury of the interior. You turn on the CD player and
eleven speakers pour forth equalized music that is pure ecstasy.
You turn on and start the engine. The feeling of power as you
put it into gear and move out of the driveway nearly makes you
swoon. You put the car into drive and press the accelerator.
The car begins to take off then sputters and finally stops in
front of the neighbor's house blocking his driveway. You look
around the console to see what the onboard computer has to say.
After punching some buttons, it reads, YOU DON'T HAVE ANY GAS IN
THE TANK, EGGHEAD.
How embarrassing. You are sitting in the driver's seat of a
vehicle that most people will never have the opportunity to ride
let alone own and you cannot go anywhere. Not only that, you are
blocking someone else's way. People walk by and look at you
wondering what kind of person you are who would get this kind of
vehicle but fail to give it what it needs to make it go. So here
you are stuck looking good in this fine Cadillac but going
nowhere, just sitting there blocking the way.
My friend continues, "The fuel that drives the Church that
Jesus established is forgiveness. There is no Gospel without
forgiveness. There is no relationship with God without
forgiveness. One would expect that Church is the place where the
fuel of forgiveness would flow like a mighty stream." Not often
enough.
There was once a congregation that split apart over an
unfortunate business incident which occurred between two
families. Members and friends of one family sat on one side of
the congregation on Sunday morning and members and friends of the
other family sat on the other side. The tension between the two
factions was palpable.
It was the custom of this congregation to celebrate the
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper on the first Sunday of each month.
On this first Sunday, the pastor moved through the first part of
the service and then, when it came time to begin the Sacrament,
she looked out and say a divided and hostile congregation before
her. "Wait." She said, "We are not ready to celebrate this
meal. It would be a travesty, a clear violation of scripture to
come to this table when there is so much hostility between us."
The congregation did not celebrate the sacrament for six
months. Finally there came a Sunday when one person from one
family rose and confessed his sin and forgave the other side.
Then someone from the other family rose and did likewise. That
day, when the congregation moved to the Lord's Table, they moved
with tears. All said that Christ was present as never before and
from that day on they knew what being a real church was all
about.(9) There is freedom in forgiveness.
A translator was trying to render 1 John 1:9 ("If we confess
our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins
and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.") into the Inuit
language. They were having difficulty with the phrase "he will
forgive us our sins" because the Inuit language had no word for
forgiveness in their language. The word they finally chose was
"ihhumagiyunaiekvigigamitigut" which means literally "he will
think that it never happened to us."(10) Not bad.
Here is an even better one. Yesterday I was talking with
Judy Brewer (a lady in our congregation whose husband is currently hospitalized and near death) and mentioned the topic of this morning's message.
She recalled a Sunday School class she taught years ago in which
she asked her students to write a one-sentence definition of
forgiveness. One answer has stuck with her. "Forgiveness is
like meeting someone for the first time." She asked the young
lad what he meant. He replied, "Well, if you meet someone for
the first time, there is nothing he could have done or not done
to make you mad. So forgiveness is like meeting someone for the
first time." Neat, huh?
Did you happen to see NBC Nightly News this past Friday?
Tom Brokaw's final story, the American Dream segment, recalled
the Christmas Day, 1974 kidnaping of 10-year-old Chris Carrier.
When the boy was finally found, he had been burned with
cigarettes, stabbed with an ice pick, shot in the head and left
for dead. Miraculously, young Chris recovered, the only
permanent physical damage, blindness in his left eye.
Two weeks ago, 22 years after the kidnaping, David
McAllister - 77-years-old, blind and dying in a nursing home
confessed to the crime. Chris Carrier, now a minister of the
gospel, has forgiven his abductor. Everyday, Chris visits
McAllister. Chris prays with and for David, reads the Bible with
him and is doing everything he can to help David make peace with
God in his time remaining in this life.
Chris says, "I became a Christian when I was 13. That night
was the first night I was able to sleep through the night,
without waking up from my nightmares." He says it would be
selfish not to share that same peace with David McAllister."
Yes, there IS freedom in forgiveness.
Jesus knew that and he taught it to his disciples, not only
in our gospel lesson, but even in those last awful moments on the
cross. Remember? "Father, forgive them..."
Is there someone you need to forgive? Someone you need to
meet again for the very first time? Do it today. This is not
pie-in-the-sky Christianity. This is down-to-earth practical
stuff. This is how we live God's kingdom here on this earth.
Forgiveness makes us different. And there is freedom in
forgiveness!
Let us pray.
(Our prayer was written by an unknown prisoner at
Ravensbrueck concentration camp and left by the body of a dead
child.)
O Lord, remember not only the men and women of good will,
but also those of ill will. But do not remember all the
suffering they have inflicted on us; remember the fruits we have
bought, thanks to this suffering -- our comradeship, our loyalty,
our humility, our courage, our generosity, the greatness of heart
which has grown out of all of this, and when they come to
judgment let all the fruits which we have borne be their
forgiveness.(11) In the name of Jesus. Amen!
1. Wilson Gunn, Peace Presbyterian Church, Roanoke, VA, via
PresbyNet, "Jokes," #3465, 9/13/96
2. Louis Untermeyer, Heinrich Heine: Paradox And Poet, 
3. John Storey, via PresbyNet, "Jokes" #3453, 9/12/96
4. The texts of the articles appear on the newspaper's web
site at http://www.triadonline.com/forgive/index.htm
5. Don Padget, Allardt, TN, via PresbyNet, quoting Pulpit
Resource in "Sermonshop 1996 09 15," #8, 9/9/96
6. Doug Behm, via PresbyNet, "Jokes," #3431, 9/9/96
7. Brian Stoffregen, via Ecunet, "Gospel Notes for Next
Sunday," #1667 ,9/11/96
8. Jim Boldman, Miami, FL, via PresbyNet, "Gospel Notes for
this Sunday, #1637, 9/11/96
9. David Shearman, via PresbyNet, "Sermonshop 1996 09 08, #30,
9/5/96
10. Larry Warren, via PresbyNet, "Sermonshop 1996 09 15,"
#111, 9/13/96
11. This comes from The Oxford Book of Prayer (George
Appleton, general editor)

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