Forgiven
and Forgiving
Isaiah
43: 1-5, 25-28 and Matthew 18:21-35
If we look closely at this fifth petition of the Lord's Prayer, we'll see that it is a pretty scary petition. "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors" seems to be saying that we ask God to forgive us according to the same measure we forgive others. In other words, we are asking that our forgiveness of others be the standard for God's forgiveness of us. To me, that's a pretty scary thought. Consider these two stories.
You
may have heard the story of Corrie Ten Boom before, but it bears telling again.
Corrie Ten Boom was a European Christian during World War II who, along with
her family, was arrested for hiding Jews from the Nazis. The entire family was
sentenced to a concentration camp where all died except for Corrie. After the
war, Corrie felt compelled to preach the gospel of forgiveness throughout
Europe, but, especially in Germany, because she understood that only
forgiveness could heal wounds and bring reconciliation to the continent. One
night after preaching, a man came up to thank her for bringing the message of
God's forgiveness. He extended his hand, but she froze for she recognized him
as one of the guards at the concentration camp. She says that her entire
ministry was in jeopardy. It's one thing to talk about forgiveness, but could
she actually forgive this man? Her arm hung paralyzed by her side for the
longest time. Finally, as if a power had overtaken her body she found her hand
rising to meet his. Their fingers touched. A feeling of warmth and genuine love
radiated up her arm and throughout her body. She could indeed--she had indeed--
forgiven this man...but what if she hadn't? What if her hand had remained
paralyzed? What if she had simply turned and walked away? "Forgive us our
debts as we forgive our debtors": what if we don't forgive?
Or
what about the two brothers who owned a hardware store together in a very small
town. One day a customer paid with a $20 dollar bill. The first brother put the
bill on the counter and, to be friendly, walked the customer to the door. He
was going to put the $20 in the cash register when he got back, only it was
gone. He looked around but the only person he saw was his brother. He said,
"Did you put that $20 away?" "Twenty," said the second
brother, "what $20?" Soon the seed of suspicion that had been sown
between them bore fruit. The store was divided into two. A barrier was built
right down the middle. The local townspeople began to choose sides and choose
their place to shop based on which brother they believed. Nearly 25 years
passed when a man came into one of the stores and asked to speak to the owner.
The first brother said, "That would be me." The man said, "I
don't know how to tell you this but 25 years ago I stole $20 from you. I was a
drifter, and I was hungry. I had never done anything like it before but I was
in the alley behind your store and saw the money through the open door, so I
snuck in and took it. My conscience has felt heavy about this for years, so I
have come back to ask your forgiveness and to see if there is anything I can do
to repay you for what I've done." In tears the first brother said,
"There is one thing. Go next door and tell the same story to the man you
find there." Finally the brothers forgave one another. But what about
during the 25 years of hostility? Were they denied forgiveness during those
unforgiving years?
The short answer to this question is, "Yes
and no.” I really wish I could give you a simple yes or a simple no, but the
Christian faith is far too deep for that.
Any simple answer I tried to give would only be simplistic.
Simply put: there are no simple answers when it comes to forgiveness. Yes, the
brothers were denied forgiveness. No, of course they weren't. As different as
these answers are, both are true. How can this be?
No,
of course the brothers weren't denied forgiveness! No, of course Corrie Ten
Boom wouldn't have been denied forgiveness had her arm remained paralyzed at
her side. Of course not because our God is a God who forgives. Our God is a God
of mercy, slow to anger and abounding in love; he will not harbor his anger
forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our
iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his
love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he
removed our transgressions from us (Psalm 103). Isaiah reveals to us God's
words about his own self, "I, even I, am he who blots out your
transgressions for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more." If I
hear this correctly, God is saying that for his own sake he forgives, which
means that God has no desire to hold on to our sins. God is a God of mercy, and
if not for us then for his own sake, he will blot out our transgressions. But,
of course, it is for our sake as well that God forgives.
We
see the forgiveness of God extended time and time again in the life of Jesus.
When a paralyzed man was brought to him for healing, Jesus said, "Son,
your sins are forgiven" (Mark 2:5); he did this before he addressed the
problem of the man's illness. When a woman was led before him and accused of
adultery, Jesus said, "Let him who is without sin among you cast the first
stone" (John 8:7). On the cross, Jesus looked down upon his tormentors and
prayed to the Father, "Forgive them for they know not what they do"
(Luke 23:34). After his resurrection, Jesus went up to Peter, the disciple who
had denied him three times, and asked the question, "Peter do you love
me?" Three times Peter confessed, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love
you" (John 21:15-19). Through this interchange, Jesus gave Peter the
opportunity to move beyond his past failure. He wanted everyone to know that
he, Jesus, had forgiven Peter the failure. Forgiveness released Peter from his
past sin. Forgiveness restored Peter to relationship with his Lord. This is
what forgiveness does: it releases and restores. It releases us from our past
sins. No longer do we have to live in the past, worry about the past, try to
make up for what we did or did not do in the past. We are released from the
past. And forgiveness restores us to relationship in the present. We are
restored to live in the present moment, restored to see the one who stands
before us, restored to love and be loved.
Forgiveness
releases us and restores us to relationship, and none of us is denied
forgiveness by God the Father, who is revealed in Jesus Christ, for our God is
a God of mercy. Yet, we can be denied forgiveness if we are unwilling to
forgive others...this also is true. How can this be?
Yes,
the brothers were denied forgiveness during their 25 years of hostility. Yes,
Corrie Ten Boom would have been denied forgiveness had her arm remained
paralyzed by her side...but not by God. This is an important word to hear: but
not by God. It is not God but our own selves that keeps forgiveness from us
when we refuse to offer it to another. This is the truth of "on earth as
it is in heaven." We cannot know one thing on earth and a different thing
in heaven. Nor can one thing be true of heaven and a different thing on earth.
If our hearts are closed to mercy for others, they will be closed
to mercy from God. If our eyes are closed such that we cannot see
out, they will be closed when we look to see up. Only the open hand can both
reach out to extend the right hand of fellowship and reach up to receive God's
help. The closed fist that strikes out does not grasp the ready hand that
reaches down.
This
truth of "on earth as it is in heaven" is at the heart of what Jesus
is saying to Peter in today's Gospel lesson. Peter actually thought he was
being quite generous when he suggested that he should forgive someone seven
times. Traditional wisdom of the day said that three times was all the law
required. So Peter is showing off here, trying to impress Jesus with how
gracious he is: "Lord, I'll forgive seven times!" But Jesus isn't
buying Peter's act. Instead, Jesus tells Peter to forgive seventy times seven,
meaning he should forgive without end. Jesus' point to Peter is that
forgiveness is not about laws and rights and negotiations over proper payment
for restitution. Rather, forgiveness is about the value of love over law; about
the need to restore relationships more than argue rights; about the primacy of
people over payment. Forgiveness is about our releasing another from their past
sins, not holding their past against them, not worrying over how our rights
were trampled, not adding up what they owe us if they are to repay their debt
in full. The past is released, if not for the other, then for our own sake. And
when the past is released the relationship can be restored to us in the
present. Restored to us is the possibility of living in the present moment,
seeing the one who stands before us rather than a shadow from our past.
Restored to us is the possibility to love again and be loved. But if we do not forgive
we deny ourselves this gift. If we cannot release others from their past we are
living there ourselves. The mercy that we withhold is the mercy that is
withheld.
This
fifth petition is scary. In part, this is true because it hits so close to
home...at least for me. The story I am going to tell you is public. I want to
make that clear so that no one thinks that I would share confidential stuff.
There is nothing confidential about this story because several years ago the
story broke in the San Antonio newspapers and local TV news. For months not a
week went by without more of the story being told. I had a friend who was a
city councilman in San Antonio. We were best friends in college. I was best man
at his wedding. We saw each other two or three times a week every week, always
talking, sometimes debating, sometimes talking sports, sometimes just sharing
what was going on at work or with our families. One evening several years ago
his wife called saying that my friend had asked for a divorce. This kind of
surprised me because my friend and I had spent about three hours together the
previous day and he had not mentioned a word about what he was going to do.
This was very unusual. As the story unfolded I learned that that was not all he
had kept secret.
To
make a long story short, my best friend had been living a dual life. For six
years he was having an affair and had fathered a child with his mistress. The
story goes on and on and keeps getting more and more sordid from there. My
point is this: I felt betrayed. He was my best friend, yet I didn't know him.
Laura and I still talk to his wife regularly, but my friend and I don't talk
anymore. He never returned my calls and eventually I stopped calling. So now perhaps
you won't be surprised when I tell you that I struggled a bit writing this
sermon this past week. I hadn't thought of my friend in a long time, but you
know what studying Scripture does. Scripture spoke a Word to my heart that I
would rather not have heard spoken. So every night when I prayed and I
remembered the Lord’s Prayer, I knew that, essentially, I was praying,
"Father, forgive me my debts as I have forgiven my friend." Now
that's a scary thought. I want God to be better than that. I hope and pray that
God is better than that or we are all in trouble. I believe God is better than
that. Our God is a God of mercy who blots out our transgressions and remembers
our sins no more. But it is precisely because our God is a God of mercy that we
as his people need to become people of mercy...on earth as it is in heaven.
I
want to conclude by telling you a parable. Once there was a great landowner who
was well-known for his merciless dealing with poachers. Whenever a poacher was
caught, the landowner had one of the poacher's thumbs cut off. Even the king's
son was not spared. On a dare from his friends, the prince tried his luck at
poaching and was caught! The prince, also, lost his thumb. After some years the
landowner joined in a rebellion against the prince, who was now the newly
crowned king. The rebellion failed, and the landowner was captured. Before his
head was cut-off, the landowner asked for an audience with the king. When he
came into the king's presence, he begged and pleaded for mercy. The king
listened for a while, then held out a hand that was missing a thumb and said to
him...and said what?
The
parable ends without the words of the king. Or, more precisely, we the hearers
supply the ending. What will the king say? Now there are two ways we can supply
the ending to this parable. The easy way is to think of some clever words to
place in the king's mouth. The truer but more difficult way to supply the
ending is to allow our lives to speak the words of the king. How will our lives
conclude this parable? What will our lives have the king say?
When you pray, not "if" but when, pray like this: "Forgive us our debts as we' forgive out debtors."