The heart of Christian faith lies in the mystery of forgiveness, to give it and to receive it. Over 2/3 of Jesus’ teachings concern this truth: from his warm acceptance of immoral, unethical folks to his dying words from the cross—Father, forgive them for they know not what they do—- Jesus demonstrated the counterintuitive, countercultural, counter-religious, and downright crazy notion that Love calls for radical and rule-breaking forgiveness. Without it, there can be no hope for any of us, because we have hurt one another in too many ways, as individuals and as communities and nations.
To give and receive forgiveness may also be the very hardest part of Christian faith. Showing mercy to one’s opponent is considered weak and submissive in our competitive, “winner take all” world. The biblical vision of peacemaking by beating swords into plowshares has been twisted into a chilling prediction: Those who beat their swords into plowshares usually end up plowing for those who kept their swords. Yeah, we know how it goes in the “real world.”
Retributive justice is almost always favored as a national security strategy, which is, of course, one reason why violence and warfare never end. Trauma caused by another’s action doesn’t magically disappear because someone expresses regret and apologizes. We’ve learned how pain that isn’t processed is passed on, despite every effort to reason it away or tamp it down in shame.
Yet. Jesus showed us a different way. A way that repairs and reconciles. A way that offers restorative justice for communities and healing for individuals. A way opened not because we deserve it or have earned it through our righteous efforts, but solely by grace which nothing short of miraculous. Can you summon to mind right now either a time when you extended forgiveness to an individual, or were the recipient of someone extending it to you? Keep that experience in mind as we read today’s Biblical text, one of many centering forgiveness.
Here, Jesus heals a person’s body and soul, to the indignation of some and the sheer astonishment of others. What produced these different reactions? A reading from the good news according to Luke, in the fifth chapter, verses 17-32. Listen for God’s Word to the Church, where the ability to forgive is a distinctive mark of a community that experiences forgiveness. [Luke 5:17-32]
Dizzying acts of forgiveness routinely make the headlines. The families of the Emanuel Nine confronted Dylann Roof at his murder trial with their pain and their forgiveness. Amish families who had lost daughters in a schoolhouse massacre in 2006 embraced the shooter’s family and extended forgiveness. These acts of grace are astounding, almost otherworldly.
I learned recently of the Rev. Jack Mathison and his own story of grace beyond reason. Born in Wisconsin in 1925, Mathison enlisted with the U.S. Army Air Corps as an 18-year-old. He trained as a navigator and flew with a heavy bomber crew that saw combat during World War II. In November 1943, his B-24 was shot down over Germany’s southern border with Austria. All 10 crew members parachuted to safety and took refuge in a vacant building. They survived for weeks until they were detected by a German forester who captured them at gunpoint and turned them over to the SS. They were transported to a massive prisoner-of-war camp, where they remained until Allied victory and liberation.
In the years following, Mathison went to college, married, and began a career in construction. But he could not forget his war experience. He couldn’t let go of strong feelings of rage particularly toward the German responsible for his imprisonment. Through military records, and some luck (in the days before the Internet), he was not only able to identify the man but contact him. The two made plans to reunite.
As Matthison told it, when he knocked on the man’s door, the old German opened his arms wide as if greeting a long-lost friend, but Matthison wasn’t ready to receive it. They sat and talked for hours, speaking honestly about the hurt and fear of that terrible time. Both acknowledged that the visit freed them from residual pain, a burning desire for revenge, and, on the German’s part, no small amount of guilt. The process wasn’t easy, but both men experienced healing in the act of extending and receiving forgiveness. [adapted from Presbyterian Church (USA) Seasons of Peace Devotions, Fall 2024]
I was so inspired by that story that I wanted to include it in this sermon on forgiveness. But this is true: as I was writing it, I was contacted by a long-ago adversary, reaching out not to apologize but to ask for my help. And I confess to you that my first reaction was not only “no” but “hell, no.” It is a lot easier for me to admire the grace of another than to practice it myself. I tasted again the resentment I’d buried from our interactions years before, and even felt a certain vindication now that he was the one in need. And yes, I recognized the irony of my feelings while immersed in this text about forgiveness.
By contrast, Jesus was always ready to forgive. Tax collectors who had cheated their own neighbors. A woman in an adulterous relationship brought to him for judgment. A whole village that refused to welcome him. When Peter asked Jesus how often he should forgive and even suggested a magnanimous “seven” times, Jesus multiplied it exponentially as if to say you’re never done. And from the cross, an agonized prayer that God forgive even his executioners for they don’t know what they’re doing. Like those of old, we have seen strange things.
In our text, Jesus links forgiveness with physical healing of a person with paralysis. The story itself reveals the difficulties encountered through barriers of one kind and another, and even charges of blasphemy. For rule-keepers like the Pharisees (and many of us), the notion that a word from Jesus could wipe out any guilt is simply offensive. We’d rather make people pay for their wrongdoing; let them feel a little of the pain they cause, with interest.
But Jesus could see beyond the immediate moment of satisfaction toward the greater good of restoration and reconciliation: broken people made whole; divided communities brought together. Given present-day realities, can we even imagine it?! Jesus’ way of forgiveness defies the status quo and what we’ve come to expect. Can we remember the strange things we have seen?
If we want things to change, if we can begin to imagine a different way, we will commit to practicing forgiveness as Jesus taught us. First, we’ll acknowledge our continuing need for it. Like the air we breathe and the water that quenches thirst, the grace of forgiveness nourishes human life. Our very lives depend upon it. We begin to understand the concept when we translate it humbly: Forgive us, for we don’t know what we’re doing.
Then, too, we acknowledge its Divine origin. We love because God first loves us. We have the power to forgive because we have experienced God’s unconditional forgiveness. The religious leaders of Jesus’ day saw God’s mercy as contingent upon the repentance of God’s people. It was a kind of grudging forgiveness, done with whatever the Divine version is of a deep sigh and eye roll.
No.
Jesus showed us that forgiveness is part of God’s very nature, not something God does from time to time. As contemplative and activist priest Richard Rohr expresses it, “[in forgiveness] we experience God’s goodness flowing through ourselves, and we also experience our own goodness in a way that surprises us.” Made in God’s image, we are able both to receive it and share it with others. Through it, we actually participate in Divine re-creation.
And that alone is reason to practice and practice and practice. We pray to forgive every time we offer the Lord’s Prayer—to be forgiven as we forgive others. Not a prescription or warning, but a description of plain truth: Nothing new happens without forgiveness. It’s just hard feelings, unresolved trauma and revenge fantasies all the way down. We keep repeating the same old behaviors and delusions of our checkered pasts which hold us captive. Let’s stipulate that forgiveness does not erase the bitter past—as someone has written, a healed memory is not a deleted one.
Instead, the act of forgiving what we can’t forget creates a new way to remember, by changing it into hope for our future. To process our pain (over time, and sometimes a lot of time) into new understanding of comfort. . . encouragement. . . reassurance. . . . reset boundaries. . . . freedom. . . . appreciation. We are opening ourselves to receive healing from God’s ever-present, ever-generous Spirit. Ahhhhhh. . . .
Perhaps that strange, counter-intuitive reality caused me to regard my former adversary—and myself— in a new light. When I realized it was I who needed forgiving as much as he did, it was easier (not saying it was easy) to respond with grace and a contribution to help his situation.
I continue to be inspired by strange stories of extraordinary grace and forgiveness between longstanding enemies like Jews and Arabs and former war combatants. But I get smacked by the knowledge that I most need to practice with the people in my close environs—family, friends, church folks, colleagues. It’s why I want to close this sermon by practicing forgiveness between you and me.
A lot of water has flowed under the bridge of our time as pastor and congregation. So much good has been done. So many relationships of love and caring have been nurtured. But I am human. So are you. We have messed up. We have done wrong and in some of those wrongs we did know what we were doing. We have acted contrary to the Love that is our essence.
Friends, the only way through this messy reality is grace. Jesus showed us how and through his cross and resurrection redeems our mistakes for God’s good purposes. Because we have seen these strange things, we can acknowledge our brokenness AND commit to live by mending daily with the grace of God that is the glue.
In silence, let us embrace the mystery of God demonstrated in unconditional love and humble grace, gifts to receive now, near the end of our ministry together, and as daily bread we could not live without.
Thanks be to God.
CONFESSION AND RECONCILIATION
LOUISE: I thank you, Central—-members and companions—for the love, kindness and support shown me these nearly fourteen years. I ask forgiveness for the mistakes I have made: for expectations not met, for wounds not healed, for gifts not given, for promises not kept.
ALL: We forgive you. We thank you for the love, kindness, and support shown us these nearly fourteen years. And we ask your forgiveness for our mistakes: for expectations not met, for wounds not healed, for gifts not given, for promises not kept.
LOUISE: I forgive you. Friends, together let us take hold of the good news of our faith:
ALL: In Jesus Christ we are forgiven and restored to new life!
LOUISE: May the peace of Christ be with you all.
ALL: And also with you.