What's Past is Past and ...

In Matthew’s deceptively simple parable (Matthew 21:28-32), Jesus invites his adversaries to look at the future, as one not dominated by the arguments and opposition of the past, but one that is open to the movement of God’s spirit to heal, revive, restore, and make all things new.

The chief priests and elders do not accept this invitation. They have too much invested in the past…their identity has been defined by their own man-made rules that they have assumed the “authority” to enforce. They have become dependent on their established identity and they refuse to trade that past for an unknown future. But look at those who are “down and out,” the dregs of society, the tax collectors and prostitutes, who discover that any identity created by their past does not have to define or follow them into the future; they eagerly grab hold of Jesus’ promise with both hands.

Throughout our readings of Matthew these past weeks, Jesus makes this same promise to us. We are forgiven solely because there is a forgiver. We are loved unconditionally; we cannot earn or lose God’s love. No matter what we have done, no matter what may have been done to us, the future is still open. Whatever hurt we may have experienced or done in the past is, ultimately…in the past. We do not have to allow the past to define our future or our identity. We do not have to drag our past around with us and take it out whenever we feel the need to linger in its memory. We are more than the sum total of all that has happened to us. The future is open. It may be difficult and seem almost impossible to let go of the past and walk into the future. After all, the past is a known entity; it’s familiar to us, whereas the future is so open…it can be scary. But when we meditate on and invoke the prayer of Thomas Merton, we know that we are not alone: l will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me alone. No, you will never leave me alone. (Partner in Preaching, David Lose, 9/22/14)

 

God, is this really fair?

The story from our Gospel this week (Matthew 20:1-16) is one that asks us to put on the mind of the poet and think in metaphor. On the surface it defies logic and the world of “fairness” in which we live. But man’s sense of fairness and God’s “justice” are not the same. Can we blame some of the gardeners for feeling that they were duped: “what’s going on here; we worked from dusk to dawn, and these guys arrive just before closing time and they get the same pay?  That’s not fair!” Who could argue with their logic? Think of it—if you tried to run a business on the basis of paying everyone the same rate, regardless of how well and long they worked, your business wouldn’t last very long and you’d have some very disgruntled employees.

Just as God’s forgiveness requires that we turn logic on its head and suspend our belief system of “quid pro quo,” likewise God’s realm of justice and peace defies our sense of fairness. God’s love has nothing to do with logic or fairness. These are all part of a human convention and a world based on rules, laws and logic.  There is nothing we can do to earn God’s love or his kingdom. In this kingdom, everyone receives the generosity of God’s grace, God’s unconditional love and God’s unfailing mercy.

David Steindel-Rast writes that “salvation” is homecoming. When love not power reigns supreme, alienation from ourselves, from all others, and from God is healed. The moment we realize we can never fall out of God’s love, we come to “ourselves” like the wayward son in the parable—to our true self at home in the God Household as a uniquely loved member of the family. And now we become catalysts for salvation of the whole world, its transformation from power and domination to service and love. Salvation—and this needs to be stressed—is not a private matter. (Deeper Than Words, Living the Apostle’s Creed, p56.) 

In a very real sense, we are all “eleventh hour workers.” 

That's Impossible...Exactly!

Peter: “So, Jesus, just how many times should I forgive? Like, seven?”
Jesus: (thumbs up, gesturing up) “More than that, my friend.”
Peter: “Ok, like seventeen?”
Jesus: “Not even close.”
Peter: “Wait, like twenty-seven?”
Jesus: “Keep going.”
Peter: “You’re kidding, right? Thirty-seven?”
Jesus: “Try seventy-seven times.”
Peter: “But that’s ridiculous! Impossible!”

Exactly!

We try to put a number on forgiveness, set contractual arrangements for it to take, establish parameters for when or when not to forgive. But, forgiveness doesn’t work like that.

For any discussion on this passage from Matthew (Matthew 18: 21-35) to work, it can’t be a generic advisement to forgive or a veiled admonishment if you don’t. Otherwise, the only thing we will experience is some sort of moral guidance or counsel… one more thing to do to be a good Christian. As if we don’t already have enough to remember. As it turns out, according to Jesus, according to God, forgiveness is not just a good idea when it comes to the maintenance of relationships and communities. Forgiveness is a theological necessity.

What do I mean? I mean that God knows exactly what happens when forgiveness is withheld; when it is deemed unnecessary; when it is rejected. Well, it means some pretty hard work on our part. Sure, isn’t that just what we would expect to hear? Perhaps we can begin by exploring various definitions of or quotes about forgiveness. Which ring true? Which seem right? And why? What truth about forgiveness is communicated that you can’t seem to find the words to express?

For example, “Forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude.” -Martin Luther King, Jr. Or, “To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you” -C.S. Lewis. What about -- “Forgiveness is letting go of the hope that the past can be changed”-- Karoline Lewis. These quotes, suggest a beginning step toward being able to name and articulate why forgiveness is critical for us.

The next step is a lot harder. I think for a discussion on forgiveness to ring true, we will need to go to places we would rather not frequent -- the times when we have not forgiven; the moments when we were not forgiven. What does it feel like, really feel like, when you can’t forgive or when someone cannot forgive you? What happens when forgiveness does not happen? How do you feel about the other? Yourself? On the other side, what does it feel like to forgive, to be forgiven? We have to be willing to enter into those spaces first before we can invite others into those same experiences. We have to be able to name them, describe them, because that's what will make the difference between a discussion that touches the deepest longing and need for forgiveness and a conversation that only skims the surface of our souls with trite reproach.

And, we haven’t even touched on what it means to forgive yourself.

If we are unable to enter the spaces and places where we can sense the gravity of forgiveness, then we will not be addressing the weight of this passage from Matthew. It won’t be easy, that’s for sure. But maybe then we remember what it means to have God forgive us. That should help a little.

Adapted from A Generous Forgiveness, Karoline Lewis, Dear Working Preacher, 2014

 

Forgiveness

 

 

 

When you're awake, the things you think
Come from the dreams you dream
Thought has wings, and lots of things
Are seldom what they seem
Sometimes you think you've lived before
All that you live today
Things you do come back to you
As though they knew the way

 Robert Capon Farrar tells us that God does not forgive our transgressions because we have made ourselves forgivable. There is nothing we can do to earn forgiveness. We are forgiven solely because there is a Divine forgiver who loves us unconditionally. There is nothing we can do to earn it or lose his love. (Matthew 18:21-35) 

Love is at the core of Jesus’ teachings and forgiveness is why he died and was resurrected. Why is it then that we have such a hard time forgiving? Is it because it’s so closely tied to memory and the human inability to forget? These two human behaviors are really mutually exclusive, yet we blithely say as if it’s even possible, “let’s forgive and forget.” No wonder we have a difficult time looking at personal hurt as Jesus did. He did not tell us to forget about it; he told us to see God in those who have hurt us and just let it go.   

We now approach another anniversary of September 11, 2001, an infamous day in our history, which for those of us living here in the Northeast, carries with it even stronger hurts and remembrances of those loved ones who lost their lives. We will remember them but can we “forgive and forget?” I don’t think so. Perhaps if we dwell on the memory of those loved ones we lost on that fateful Tuesday, we can begin or at least continue the process of forgiving. However, it’s easier said than done. To that end, I find the words of Anthony Padovano particularly comforting as we reflect on the importance of remembering:  

When we remember, we leave the present for the past. To say it better, we bring the past into the present and give it life alongside the tangible realities we are compelled to consider. In our memory of a loved one we choose to relate to him/her even though, since he is not present, we need not relate to him. Not physical presence but love leads us to live with this remembered person even in her absence. When the love is strong, the memory of this absent person may be dearer and more real than the reality of those who are present. Memory is sometimes the difference between life and death, between hope and despair, between strength for another day and the collapse of all meaning. Our memory of another confers the present upon him, gives him further life in our life, and keeps a moment of the past from drifting away or fading into death. We are fed and nourished by communion of life in which two lives intersect in memory and merge into common experience. No lover forgets. No beloved is forgotten. The memory of love is life; the memory of another becomes our selves. So when the communion of believers remembers Jesus, when the bride is alive with the thought of her Spouse, Christ is present. Jesus is brought into the present with his grace by the force of memory in the power of the Spirit…The gift of the Sprit is fidelity to the memory of life’s mystery and confidence in the mystery of its future.  (Anthony Padovano, Dawn without Darkness)