This weeks’ gospel reading sure doesn’t sound very Episcopalian does it? It might be fine for some of “those” kinds of churches to have certain steps for church discipline as it says, but we certainly wouldn’t do that. For us, it’s all about live and let live. And The Episcopal Church welcomes you (our Evangelism slogan . . . and method). In fact, our gospel reading almost doesn’t sound very Christian, with all it’s talk about casting sinners out of the congregation and lumping them with, well, sinners. For me, it was a struggle this week to figure out how to approach this text—one of the particular challenges of having a lectionary is we don’t have much freedom to pick and choose our texts, but must address those given us. And certainly the Old Testament lesson wasn’t any better!! I’m not sure I want to even touch that one . . . but of course I could.
One thing that is important to remember is that all our readings are always taken out of context, and context is important. In this section of Matthew, Jesus is talking with his disciples about the problem of sin in the fellowship. Right before our reading, Jesus talks about the 1 sheep that has strayed, and the shepherd leaves the 99 sheep on the mountain to go after the one, so great is his love for each one of his precious sheep. So the words we heard today seem to be a sharp contrast to that idea, and to the idea of grace. And in fact, the steps Matthew puts forward are very similar to the Law spelled out in Leviticus and Deuteronomy. And Matthew was writing to a predominantly Jewish audience, so this would have been familiar to them.
But there are several things that especially got my attention as I studied and reflected on this passage. First of all, look at how it starts. “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone.” Did you catch that? “If your brother sins against you.” “You” are the one that was wronged, you are the ‘victim’ of your brothers sin. And you are to reach out to your brother, quietly, in order to save your brother’s honor and maintain family ties. The victim takes the initiative. Not what we would expect, is it. We wait for the one who has hurt us to come and apologize, don’t we?
Then there is the talk about binding and loosing. The wording is almost identical to what we heard a few weeks ago when Peter said, “you are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” And Jesus responded “I will give you the keys to the kingdom, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Same as today, but today Jesus is addressing the disciples. The “you” is plural—more like you all, or you’uns. What I discovered is that binding and loosing is a Jewish legal idea, where binding meant something was prohibited, and loosing meant it was allowed. The rabbis were called on to interpret the law, like what might be permitted on the Sabbath, and they ruled accordingly, whether some behavior was bound or loosed, prohibited or allowed.
And then I read something about the keys to the kingdom. In the Lutheran church, they have what they call the Office of the Keys. This is defined as “that authority which Christ gave to his church to forgive the sins of those who repent and to declare to those who do not repent that their sins are not forgiven.”[1] In support of this idea, they cite the scripture about binding and loosing, and then in John, Jesus said "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained" (John 20:23). So, at least in the Lutheran tradition, the “Office of the Keys gives power to forgive and retain sins (loosing and binding), i. e., not merely to announce and to declare to men the remission or retention of sins, but actually to give forgiveness to penitent sinners and to deny forgiveness to impenitent sinners.”[2] Sounds like our gospel reading, doesn’t it?
So, with all that as foundational material, I’m going to talk today about one of the greatest gifts the church offers today. And one of the most unnatural aspects of God’s grace. I’m talking about forgiveness.
In the Lord’s Prayer we say “forgive us our sins (or trespasses), as we forgive those who sin against us.” Wow. We ask that we are forgiven to the same extent that we forgive others. And forgiveness is hard!! When we’ve been wronged, when we’ve been the victim, it’s hard to forgive—to really and honestly forgive—isn’t it? Forgiveness is about reaching out to the one who has hurt us, the one who “done us wrong,” taking the initiative. Because if we don’t reach out, the chasm widens, the hurts grow, our heart gets harder and harder, and we become shut off from those who have hurt us.
Still, it’s not an easy thing, to forgive. Maybe little things, but what about the big things? What about when you discover your spouse has had an affair. What about if your child is murdered? What about if your niece is raped . . . ? The list could go on and on—there are probably people in your life you really don’t want to forgive, for one reason or another, probably smaller offenses than these. And yet, as Christians, we are called to forgive. That’s part of the grace we have received, forgiveness for our sins, and part of the radical, amazing grace and love we have to offer the world. Henri Nouwen describes forgiveness as “love practiced among people who love poorly;” and this is the process he describes.
I have often said “I forgive you,” but even as I said these words my heart remained angry or resentful. I still wanted to hear the story that tells me that I was right after all; I still wanted to hear apologies and excuses; I still wanted the satisfaction of receiving some praise in return—if only the praise for being so forgiving!
But God’s forgiveness is unconditional; it comes from a heart that does not demand anything for itself, a heart that is completely empty of self seeking. It is this divine forgiveness that I have to practice in my daily life. It calls me to keep stepping over all my arguments that say forgiveness is unwise, unhealthy, and impractical. It challenges me to step over all my needs for gratitude and compliments. Finally, it demands of me that I step over the wounded part of my heart that feels hurt and wronged and that wants to stay in control and put a few conditions between me and the one whom I am asked to forgive.[3]
Now take a look at the Epistle reading, Paul writing to the church at Rome (chapter 12). The whole passage has a lot of challenging words for us, but did you see how it ends?
19 Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord."
20 To the contrary, "if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head."
21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
There’s a lot to think about, isn’t there, but note that it is God’s responsibility to avenge wrongs. “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” When we forgive, we trust God to do justice and mercy as he sees fit. When we forgive, we let go of our own rights, our desire to get even, and leave the outcome to God.
Like I said, forgiveness is hard, and it’s unnatural. We want vengeance, we want justice, and it’s hard to walk away from that. But as Christians, we are commanded to forgive, as forgiven children of a forgiving Father. Forgiveness is the key that ends the cycle of blame and pain. It breaks the chains of harm and hurt. When we forgive, we are changing the whole pattern. When we forgive, we are saying “enough is enough!” When we forgive, the other party is freed from guilt. When we forgive, the wrong loses its power, and healing and wholeness result. Forgiveness has the unworldly, supernatural power to transform people. Even if your offer of forgiveness isn’t immediately accepted, you are set free. You are transformed. And because forgiveness is so radical, so unnatural, so countercultural, the world notices.
On Monday morning, October 2, 2006, a gunman entered a one-room Amish school in Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania. In front of twenty-five horrified pupils, thirty-two-year-old Charles Roberts ordered the boys and the teacher to leave. After tying the legs of the ten remaining girls, Roberts prepared to shoot them execution [style] with an automatic rifle and four hundred rounds of ammunition that he brought for the task. The oldest hostage, a thirteen-year-old, begged Roberts to "shoot me first and let the little ones go." Refusing her offer, he opened fire on all of them, killing five and leaving the others critically wounded. He then shot himself as police stormed the building. His motivation? "I'm angry at God for taking my little daughter," he told the children before the massacre.
The story captured the attention of broadcast and print media in the United States and around the world. By Tuesday morning some fifty television crews had clogged the small village of Nickel Mines, staying for five days until the killer and the killed were buried. The blood was barely dry on the schoolhouse floor when Amish parents brought words of forgiveness to the family of the one who had slain their children.
The outside world was incredulous that such forgiveness could be offered so quickly for such a heinous crime. Of the hundreds of media queries that the authors received about the shooting, questions about forgiveness rose to the top. Forgiveness, in fact, eclipsed the tragic story, trumping the violence and arresting the world's attention.
Within a week of the murders, Amish forgiveness was a central theme in more than 2,400 news stories around the world. The Washington Post, The New York Times, USA Today, Newsweek, NBC Nightly News, CBS Morning News, Larry King Live, Fox News, Oprah, and dozens of other media outlets heralded the forgiving Amish. From the Khaleej Times (United Arab Emirates) to Australian television, international media were opining on Amish forgiveness. Three weeks after the shooting, "Amish forgiveness" had appeared in 2,900 news stories worldwide and on 534,000 web sites. [4]
Radical, unnatural forgiveness gets the world’s attention. It has the power to transform the world, as well as our homes and communities. Who do you need to forgive? And because the church is corporate—whenever 2 or 3 are gathered—who do we need to forgive?
[1] http://www.sundayschoollessons.com/keys.htm
[2] http://www.lcms.org/ca/www/cyclopedia/02/display.asp?t1=K&word=KEYS.OFFICEOFTHE
[3] quoted in Philip Yancey’s What’s So Amazing About Grace, Harper Collins, p. 92.
[4] http://www.josseybass.com/WileyCDA/WileyTitle/productCd-0787997617.html
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