Forgiving and Forgiven: A Sermon for Proper 19

Our two-part lesson on reconciliation and forgiveness continues this week. In last week’s lesson, Jesus offered step-by-step instructions for conflict resolution between members of the community. In today’s lesson, Peter, in response to Jesus’ instructions, asks Jesus, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” It’s almost as if Peter is a tad bit indignant; as if he really wants to say, “Yes, but there’s got to be limits, right? Like, how many times am I supposed to forgive somebody before I finally say, ‘enough is enough?’” That’s what I love about Peter – he so often represents and expresses what is true about human nature. He asks Jesus the tough questions that the other disciples seem to be afraid to ask. After all, don’t we all have limits to how many times we are willing to forgive someone before we finally choose to wash our hands of the relationship? 

There has been much scholarly debate over Jesus’ response to Peter – whether the Greek is best translated as “77 times or seventy times seven.” What shouldn’t be lost in the debate is that regardless of which option you choose, Jesus’ answer means “an awful lot.” In his commentary on this passage, St. Augustine of Hippo points out that the number seventy-seven represents the number of generations that passed between Adam and Jesus. St. Ambrose of Milan gets into that sort of interpretation as well, and goes into great detail about the Jewish tradition of Jubilee, sabbath, and how they are connected with one another, with Jesus, and forgiveness. The Cliffs Notes version is this – the timing of God’s incarnation in Jesus wasn’t random. The birth of Jesus came at a time of generational Jubilee, and his very own birth in the 77th generation after Adam means that in Jesus, God was ushering in redemption from the Fall. In Jesus, God was ushering in redemption and forgiveness that is beyond measure – a redemption and forgiveness that doesn’t keep count or score… a forgiveness that knows no limits. 

As Jesus is often apt to do, he chooses to respond to Peter’s inquiry by telling a parable. Jesuit scholar Daniel Harrington points out that with all the layers of the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant, the ultimate takeaway is this: “If God places no limits [on forgiveness], humans cannot place a limit [either].” My initial response to Harrington is along the lines of something Peter might say, “I’m glad that God thinks so highly of me. But I’m not God; and I shouldn’t be held to such a high standard!” But the more I think about it, the more I am reminded that Jesus bridged the chasm between God and humankind. So, seventy-seven generations after the Fall, God chose to literally enflesh the justice and mercy that the prophets preached so powerfully about in the generations prior. God chose to enflesh forgiveness. So, thanks to Jesus’ redemptive work on the cross, I don’t have to be as good as God.

One thing that many Christians today turn a blind eye to is God’s justice. I know that I tend to preach more on God’s love, mercy, and grace than I do God’s justice. I think that is because when we get down to it, the idea that we might be held accountable by God makes us uncomfortable – as it should. But who likes to come to church and hear about things that make us uncomfortable?

Following his remark about this parable’s lesson about our not placing limits on forgiveness, Daniel Harrington goes on to say that the parable teaches us that “… those who place limits on forgiving others will have limits placed on their forgiveness by God.” In Warren Carter’s commentary on Matthew, he concludes that this parable is reminding us that “God’s empire is like any other reign in that there is accountability and punitive consequences for disobeying the ruler. To ignore Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness means eschatological consequences.” In other words, our God of mercy is also a God of justice.

When I hear folks discuss their final reckoning with God, the conversation usually ends up being about things like one’s behavior, or good deeds. In other words, I think most Christians, whether they realize it or not, believe that God is keeping account of us based on how well we behave, or how many good deeds we perform. It’s as if God has a form akin to those community service forms our youth have to turn in to their high schools at the end of each year. In order to be promoted to the next grade, they have to show that they have completed a certain number of community service hours. And that is not necessarily a bad thing...I actually think that it is a good thing. But that is how our schools operate. That is not how God operates.

So, in our lesson today, Jesus doesn’t speak about community service hours, doing good deeds, or even being a nice, good person. Might it be possible that our Father in heaven won’t ask us about those things on our day of reckoning? What if God’s only question with regards to our behavior or how we treated others had to do with just one thing – forgiveness? In our lifetimes, were we radically committed to reconciliation with God and one another? Did we forgive others even when our pride told us that they didn’t deserve our forgiveness? Equally important, did we get on our knees and ask God for God’s forgiveness?

Referring to both last week’s and this week’s lessons, Daniel Harrington points out that “the implications of Matthew 18:15-35 for life within the church today are great. The text outlines a clear procedure designed to help the sinner recognize the sin and return to the community. It roots reconciliation and forgiveness of sins in God’s mercy, and thus reveals the foolishness of those who try to set limits on their willingness to forgive others.” Harrington’s point here is important on a number of levels.  But I think the most crucial thing that he is reminding us that the standard that God holds us to regarding reconciliation and forgiveness is impossible if we are left to our own devices. Since the fall of humankind, it is simply too difficult for us to forgive others without rooting it in God’s mercy and love. We can’t do it by ourselves. As much as we try to act like it, we are not God. When we try to rely on our own goodness and kindness, we end up, like Peter, keeping count and placing limits.

Christian ethicist Stanley Hauerwas points out that when Peter asked Jesus how many times we should forgive somebody, he was asking that question with the assumption that it was always he who would be in the position of forgiving. In other words, Peter, whether he realized it or not, was assuming the position of power in his relationships. But what Jesus was reminding him (and us) of is that the starting place for our being able to forgive others is our recognition of just how much we have been forgiven. The grace, mercy, and love that God has already shown to us is immeasurable. We can never keep up or keep track. If we can make this incredibly humbling reality our starting point, then any self-righteousness we have within us can begin to be transformed into gratitude. 

Humility and gratitude are not only the key to healthy relationships here and now, they are the key to our eternal life in Christ. Hauerwas goes on to say that, “We must remember, if we are to be peacemakers capable of confronting one another with our sins… [we first have to recognize that we ourselves have been forgiven] and therefore, we are members of a community of the forgiven. To be sinned against or to know that we have sinned requires that we have the habits of speech that make it possible to know what it is to be a sinner. On only this basis do we have the capacity to avoid arbitrariness of judgment that results from the assumption we must be our own creator. That is why it is so important for the church to continually attend to the language necessary to name sin as sin. Lying, adultery, and stealing are not just wrong or just mistakes. They are sin.”

So, our ability to forgive others rests in our recognition that we ourselves are sinners who have been forgiven. Not only are we forgivers. We are forgiven. And thankfully our God is a God who doesn’t keep count. As the ancient Eastern Orthodox prayer goes, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” And in gratitude and humility, may we show that same mercy to others.