Sunday Sermon - Matthew 18.21-35: Forgiveness

Matthew 18:21-35

 

 

Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times. “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

A priest was called away for an emergency. Not wanting to leave the confessional unattended, he called his rabbi friend from across the street and asked him to cover for him.

The rabbi told him he wouldn't know what to say, but the priest told him to come on over and he'd stay with him for a little bit and show him what to do.

The rabbi comes, and he and the priest are in the confessional. In a few minutes, a woman comes in and says, 'Father, forgive me for I have sinned.'

The priest asks, 'What did you do?'

The woman says, 'I committed adultery.'

The priest says, 'How many times?'

And the woman replies, 'Three.'

Priest: 'Say two Hail Mary's, put £5 in the box, and go and sin no more. You are forgiven'

A few minutes later a man enters the confessional. He says, 'Father forgive me for I have sinned.'

'What did you do?'

‘I committed adultery.'

'How many times?'

'Three times.'

The priest says, 'Say two Hail Mary's, put £5 in the box and go and sin no more. You are forgiven'

The rabbi tells the priest that he thinks he's got it, so the priest leaves.

A few minutes later another woman enters and says, 'Father, forgive me for I have sinned.'

The rabbi says, 'What did you do?'

The woman replies, 'I committed adultery.'

The rabbi, getting it off pat, says, 'How many times?'

The woman replies, 'Once.'

The rabbi said, 'Go and do it two more times, We have a special this week, three for a fiver.'

So, it’s worth getting this out of the way at the start: how are you at forgiving? It’s a struggle isn’t it?

Forgiveness is a process, like grief; it has stages that can be observed and described, though no two people go through the stages in exactly the same way. It’s a bit like this: we hurt, we hate, we heal.

We hurt; that is, we allow ourselves to feel the depth of an injury that has been done to us; we don't minimize it, or try to sweep it under the carpet. And sometimes we wallow in it.

 We hate; that is, we blame the one who has hurt us; we don't excuse what’s happened or try to understand where the other person was coming from, or recognise our own fault in the events. Often we let it eat away at us and we plan petty acts of revenge and endlessly rehearse the event or conversation in our minds so that we come off better.

Finally, when we’re ready, we heal; we let go of the pain that’s keeping us stuck in the past, and move on.

Those stages sound simple, but they always happen inside a storm of complicated emotions. Particularly when the wound is deep, forgiveness comes slowly, and in fits and starts, if it comes at all. Forgiveness may be the hardest work that you and I will ever do.

But what’s the alternative?

Well it’s obvious and most of us here will recognise this scenario: we don’t forgive and we end up obsessed and stuck in the past when most of our family and friends have moved on from support and sympathy and heartily wish that we would too because our obsession, important as it is to us, is starting to seem self-indulgent to those around us. “Not this again. I’m tired of hearing it. Get over it. Let it go. Move on.” Of course, they may not say it but they’re thinking it. Or if we’re honest, sometimes we rather like that feeling of being the hard-done by victim and we can fall too easily into that role in the hope of more sympathy – but the outcome is the same: people get bored with the story.

And, of course, it’s a danger to our mental health and can lead to depression and other complications. An unresolved sense of injustice eats away at our mental wellbeing and makes us emotionally tired and vulnerable.

How many of us are stuck in that cycle of anger and resentment? "No matter what, I will never let go of how you wronged me. I will take this anger, this hatred, to the grave!"

There is no freedom in such hatred because that anger and resentment controls us. It takes over our being, our soul.

There’s a wide range of human behaviour in all of that and I hope you recognise some of it. But we’re talking theory here so let’s look at two simple examples:

Samuel Weisenthal, a survivor of the Nazi holocaust, tells a story that raises this question about as strongly as it can be raised. Weisenthal, a Jew, was imprisoned in a Nazi concentration camp. One afternoon he was assigned to clean a hospital for wounded soldiers and a nurse walked up to him, ordered him to come with her, and led him upstairs to a bed in which a young soldier, his head wrapped in stained bandages, was dying. He was maybe twenty-two, an SS trooper.

The soldier, whose name was Karl, reached out and grabbed Weisenthal's hand. He told him that he had to speak to a Jew. He had to confess the terrible things he had done. Otherwise, he could not die in peace.

He had been fighting in a Russian village where several hundred Jews had been rounded up. His group was ordered to plant full cans of petrol in a big house. Then they marched two hundred people into the house, crammed them in so they could hardly move. Next they threw grenades in the windows to set the house on fire. The soldiers were ordered to shoot anyone who tried to jump out of the windows.

The young soldier recalled, "Behind the window of the second floor, I saw a man with a small child in his arms. His clothing was on fire. By his side stood a woman, doubtless the child's mother. With his free hand the man covered the child's eyes, then he jumped into the street. Seconds later the mother followed. We shot....O God....! I shall never forget. It haunts me."

The young man paused and then said, "I know that what I have told you is terrible. I have longed to talk about it to a Jew and beg forgiveness from him. I know that what I am asking is almost too much, but without your answer I cannot die in peace."

There was silence in the room. Weisenthal tells us what he did next, "I stood up and looked in his direction. At last I made up my mind, and without a word, I left the room."

Do you recall one of the most famous photos to come out of the Vietnam War--a small girl running naked down the road with an expression of unimaginable terror, her clothes burned off, and her body scorched by napalm? The man who coordinated the raid on this child's village in June 1971 was a 24-year old U.S. Army helicopter pilot and operations officer name John Plummer. The day after the raid, Plummer saw the photo in the newspaper and was devastated. "It just knocked me to my knees and that was when I knew I could never talk about this." The guilt over the raid had become a lonely torment. He suffered periodic nightmares that included the scene from the photo, accompanied by the sounds of children screaming.

The girl in the photo was called Kim and she survived 17 operations and eventually moved to Canada. In 1996 Plummer heard that Kim would be speaking at an event not far from his home.

"If I could talk face-to-face with the pilot who dropped the bombs, I would tell him we could not change history, but we should try to do good things for the present." Plummer, in the audience, wrote her a note, "I am that man," and asked an officer to take it to her. At the end of the speech, he pushed through the crowd to reach her and soon they were face-to-face. "She just opened her arms to me," Plummer recounted. "I fell into her arms sobbing." All I could say is, "I'm so sorry, I'm just so sorry."

"It's all right," Kim responded. "I forgive. I forgive."

Two very different examples with two very different outcomes but did you notice that they added something new to the discussion? We had the need for forgiveness and the need to forgive.

Recently, scientific studies are catching up with religious concepts. Over the last few years, studies have been taking place on the concept of forgiveness. Recent research shows that holding on to anger increases your chances of a heart attack as well as cancer, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and other illnesses.

Forgiveness, on the other hand, boosts your self-esteem and lowers your blood pressure and heart rate. Forgiveness also helps you sleep better at night and boosts a positive change in your attitude. "Forgiveness is a decision you make to give up your anger and feelings of revenge," declared psychiatrist Richard Fitzgibbons. He added that forgiving is not forgetting; it is letting go of anger and hurt and moving on.

"Forgiveness has remarkable healing power in the lives of those who utilize it," added Dr. Fitzgibbons.

Today’s Gospel story pretty much sums up all of this but Jesus adds something new to the discussion: he tells the story of the unforgiving servant – a story made up to make a point. We come here week by week and we make our confession to God in a general sense. (It’s left to our private prayers to go over the specifics.) Then we ask for God’s forgiveness. But this story makes it clear that if we don’t come to God as those willing to forgive others we can’t assume that same forgiveness from God. It’s very much a two-way thing: in asking for God’s forgiveness we have to be as willing to forgive those who we believe have done us down otherwise we’re asking for something for ourselves which we aren’t prepared to do for others and there’s a hypocrisy in that which we need to address.

In John’s Gospel Jesus said, “I have come that you might have life in all its fullness.” Today’s Gospel story makes it clear that forgiveness, receiving and giving, is part of that fullness of life that Jesus brings. It takes two to fall out. It takes one to forgive.

You are not excusing the action.

You are not ignoring the wrong, the sin committed and the person responsible.

What you are doing is setting yourself free from the weight of harm that you have carried, maybe for far too long. Forgive. Let it go. Release it. Throw it out. Take back the God-given power you have for your own life. For some, the time is right. For others, it will take time and healing. Perhaps you need to talk with someone, but take control.

Forgiveness is not weakness. It is not passive, not gutless. Forgiveness is healthy. Forgiveness is freeing. It may take time. It may be one-sided. But it will release us. It will set us free to experience more that fullness of life which Jesus promised.

Let us pray. Our God of forgiveness, too often we carry resentment and hurt deep within our hearts. We feel weighted down and there is little joy in our lives. Reveal to us the freeing possibilities of forgiving. May we find wholeness when we let go of all that weight of hurt and resentment. Through Christ, the Forgiver. Amen.