Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost

September 14, 2008

by The Rev. Constance Jones

Gen. 50:15-21
Matthew 18:21-35

Yesterday morning I got up early to make coffee,
let in the night cat and bring in the paper, and begin a sermon.

Opening the front door, I found a cowering cat
who dashed in with his belly an inch off the floor,
and in the tree canopy over my street, it was crow wars.
Six or eight were flying angrily from branch to branch,
scolding and squawking and carrying on.
I got out my binoculars to see what the drama was all about –
who'd done what injury or insult to whom –
but the cause of the conflict was beyond figuring out.

That's crows for you. They make a big noise,
but they can't appeal their case to the courts or the newspapers.
They have no book in which record their own righteousness,
no sympathetic audience who'll say,
"There, there. You were badly treated, weren't you?"

There's no question that there's bad behavior in this world,
and injuries that cry out to Heaven for justice.
There are perpetrators and there are victims,
and infinitely varied are the stories of harm done.
You don't need interpretation – the facts will do.

Consider Joseph in the book of Genesis.
He's the favorite son of his father Jacob, and heir to God's promise.
His brothers, jealous of Joseph's claims to preeminence,
first plan to kill him but get "a better idea."
First they dump him into a deep dry well; then they sell him to passing merchants.
Yet even as a slave in Egypt, Joseph thrives –
by his virtue, his wit, and his special gift of interpreting dreams.
Judiciously working his way into Pharaoh's favor,
Joseph helps the king survive drought and famine.
From a unfortunate brother in the bottom of a well,
Joseph has grown to second-in-command in a great empire.
Yet he is still estranged from his family.
And he is not, we have to say, a wholly blameless man.

Soon the brothers come to Egypt looking for grain, for the famine is widespread.
Joseph receives them with tears of recognition but they are afraid,
knowing they are doubly in their brother's power.

Now, let's leave the Joseph story for a minute
to note this week's commemoration of the 7th anniversary
of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center.
So much has been said to interpret and react to this event,
but the facts are plain and we saw it with our own eyes.
Using passenger airplanes as weapons,
a handful of men caused catastrophic destruction and loss of life,
and began (or maybe continued) a chain of events of continuing horror.
Have all the people who have died been 100% virtuous and free of sin?
Of course not. But the 9/11 act was evil. Period.

Also this week I talked with my old college friend Allison,
who some years ago remarried after being divorced.
Just about all her friends said to her, and I said to her, Don't marry this guy.
He looks like Prince Charming, but he'll break your heart. Don't do it.
She did it. We were right.
Allison's not a perfect person, but she suffered abuse and it all came to grief.

These stories of violence and trickery and betrayal, you know – they aren't made up.
You can tell the story without any spin or interpretation,
and you still say to yourself, that's wrong, that's bad.

But now back to the Joseph story. When his brothers come begging for grain,
Joseph receives them with tears and open arms, not vengeance.
But then their father Jacob dies. The brothers' fears are renewed.
With Father dead, they say, what if Joseph will now
"pay us back in full for all the wrong that we did to him?"
So they ask forgiveness and offer to be his slaves.

Joseph surprises them, saying what angels always say, "Do not be afraid."
"Am I in the place of God?" he asks,
recognizing that the job of retribution belongs to God alone.

"Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good."

Yes, you are forgiven. Yes, your children will be provided for.
Far from being my slaves, you are my beloved and you are free.
But really, you know, it is Joseph who most has become free.

Which brings me back to Allison, who once she did leave her second husband,
sat in my living room for hours, telling me over and over
the pain she suffered at his hand.

Now, at this time in my life I had my own story of betrayal,
which Allison knew all about. She'd heard me nursing my grievance.
(And isn't "nursing a grievance" a lovely figure of speech,
as though a grievance must be fed hourly,
like spooning soup to the feeble lips of a weak patient.)

We took turns rehearsing our grievances –
performing the lines in this play over and over,
perfecting our dramatic flourishes and turns of phrase
for maximum impact for the judge of all righteousness.

But all of a sudden a notion came to me,
no doubt planed in my head by one of God's angels.

"You know," I said,
"I think I could let self-righteous anger and resentment grievance move in with me.
I could feed my grievance tasty things,
and nurture it so it wouldn't leave me, or die of neglect.
I could tell my story day and night, and when nobody would listen to me,
I could have private screening of the story for myself!
Grievance could sleep on a little cot right beside my bed,
so that I could keep watch over it
and it could be my companion even at three o'clock in the morning!

Allison was laughing pretty hard by now,
as we considered how Grievance could become our only friend,
then rot us from the inside out.

Now, the fact is, Allison's ex-husband was really bad.
The act of destroying the World Trade Center towers was unspeakably worse.

But what if..........just what if.......... God intended them for good?
No, not that God is ever the author of betrayal or violence,
but that everything in this world, including all we identify as terrible,
is capable of being woven into a fabric of meaning,
and offers us a means for growth and learning and healing?
What if, to put it in a single word,
everything in this world is capable of being redeemed,
if we will only reframe our experience to accept it?
And what if the experiences we have are just the ones we need at a particular time?

Joseph forgave his brothers. We say it in the Lord's prayer every day:
"Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."

Forgiveness is a very radical idea.
Forgiveness replaces retribution,
and can be given either with or without the consent of the offending party.
Forgiving those who don't deserve it is, in fact, a divine attribute.
Forgiveness is countercultural, it's counterintuitive, and it's radical.
But it sets you free.

I sometimes am sorry that we in the Episcopal Church
use the word "trespass" in the Lord's prayer.
It's such an abstract and legalistic word.
Our more modern version asks God's forgiveness for our "sins" –
a theologically-laden word.
But the Presbyterians have the plainest word,
and the most accurate translation of the Greek:
"Forgive our debts, as we forgive our debtors."

When you forgive a debt, you relinquish your claim on collecting that money.
In the Jewish tradition there'd be a jubilee year, every fiftieth year:
accumulated debt was erased, slaves were set free, and grievances were laid down.
Not a very money-wise plan,
maybe not a very rational one by the judgment of the world,
which calls for high returns on investments, and payback at all times –
you get the most you can, you prove you are right,
and if you don't get an apology, you always get even.

No, forgiveness is not a rational idea: it's a Godly idea.
And it can save both your life and your soul.

Father forgive them, Jesus says from the cross.
What? Let off the hook the perpetrators of the greatest crime in human history?

You intended it for evil, Joseph says, but God intended it for good.

Forgiveness doesn't mean saying that evil is good.
It doesn't mean forgetting what happened.
The betrayals of Joseph and Jesus are recorded in minute detail in the Bible
and we've remembered them for thousands of years.

But what if.......... just what if........
for every act of betrayal or violence or harm,
God offers the perpetrator and the victim both
a chance for the story to be redeemed in a way that sets both parties free?
What if God offers the opportunity for every single story,
from the littlest thing to the Holocaust and 9/11,
to be transformed into part of holy narrative –
through which we learn and grow and become free?

This redeeming happens immediately in God's economy,
but it is for us to discover it and claim it.
Every curse is turned into an available blessing by God,
if we just turn the situation in the right angle
so that God's blessing can reflect onto us, and bless us.
We might find our own heart of grievance
transformed into a heart of gratitude.

What I know for sure and can testify to,
is that inviting Grievance to make its bed beside mine is not a path of blessing.
What I know for sure is that those with a capacity to forgive are not weaklings,
but are holy people whose souls take big steps
in growing into the character of Christ.

The crows don't get it, and neither does most of the world.
But it's always on offer, and available to everyone.
It may set your life at cross-purposes to the world,
but it will set you free. Thanks be to God.