“We Need to Be Different to Make a Difference”
Genesis 50: 15-21…Romans 12:9-21…Matthew 18:21-35 - 9/11/2011
Joseph said to his brothers: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good, to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” Genesis 50:20
Do not repay anyone evil for evil… If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge …. If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink ... Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12:17,18,19,21
Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times. Matthew 18:21-22
It was British theologian, scholar and novelist, C.S. Lewis, who once said:
“Every one says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive.”
Put yourself in the place of the wronged party in any one of our three lessons and you know he speaks the truth.
Insane with jealousy, Joseph’s brothers had once thrown him into a pit and sold him as a slave, and told their father he had been killed by a wild animal. Now, 22 years later, Joseph finally has his opportunity for revenge. Instead, Joseph offers forgiveness.
And on the 10th anniversary of the attack on America, with all the horrible images replaying endlessly for the last two weeks, how difficult is it for you to hear, “Do not return evil for evil. Do not take revenge. Feed your enemy if he’s hungry. Give him drink if he is thirsty. Overcome evil with good.”?
And sometimes forgiving the enemy who is a stranger, a faceless non-entity, is easier than forgiving someone we know and love. The hurt is never more acute than when it has been inflicted by someone up close and personal – a fellow church member, a trusted friend, a member of our own family. How can we forgive that kind of betrayal - even once?
Again, C.S. Lewis:
“I once thought that chastity was the most difficult of Christian virtues. I have come to believe that it is not chastity, but forgiveness that is the most difficult.”
Difficult indeed. But essential, some would argue, for the survival of the world. Look, you can’t help but feel what you feel when the wrong has been done. You can’t hide from God what you feel. But it’s what you do that sets you apart as a prodigy of your heavenly Father or a child of the world. When it is time to forgive, the crisis comes; you must decide. Here you prove yourself an angel or a devil, on the side of evil or the sacred. It’s what you do that makes you an ambassador of hope or just another person walking around in a living death.
In Robert Bolt’s famous play about Thomas Moore, “A Man for All Seasons”, there is a powerful moment when Moore is explaining to his daughter, Margaret, why he has made a decision to stand against a decree of his king, even though it means his own death. He says to her, “There comes a time in a man’s life when he holds himself like water cupped in his hands, and if he lets his hands part and the water falls out, he will never get himself back again.”
When it’s time to forgive, we are at a junction where we are holding ourselves – our past, our future, and our integrity as Christians – in the palm of our own hands. And in this moment, if we allow our integrity to fall out, we might never recover it in the same way.
The 20th century was the most violent century ever. The 21st century has begun with violence enough of its own, but what stands out to me is the amount of fear, anger and un-forgiveness we are witnessing. It’s all around us – animosity, despair, unyielding resentment. We say we’re tired of seeing
it in the political arena – the partisan wrangling that polarizes, demonizes and stymies progress – but it’s not only happening in the stateroom. It’s happening in the boardroom and the classroom and the grocery store and the home – and the church. How often do we see people of faith on television or in print, or in person, protesting about this, complaining about that, being horrified about something, being full of rage. We are not meant to be this way. A religious person should be a haven in a violent, fearful world. We are to be something different than “an eye for an eye”. Our baptisms, our years in Sunday School, our confirmation experience, our Sundays spent sitting in pews – should have prepared us for just a time as this. We should be making a difference by being different. But too many of us have allowed our integrity to spill through our hands and have joined the masses and the prevailing sentiment of the day: despair.
We need to be different to make a difference. When you see someone
forgiving when reason says to get even, you know you have seen something different. Everyone understands, everyone expects retaliation. No one expects to see evil being overcome by lovingkindness.
A few years ago I was in Sierra Leone, West Africa. A horrible civil war was just coming to an end. The country was in physical, emotional and spiritual ruin. The little church where I was to preach and baptize had been destroyed just a week before by a group who wanted the property for themselves. They had attacked during a worship service, stoning members of the congregation. In the chaos of the times there was no legal avenue for the church to make protest, so they wanted to retaliate in kind – take up rocks and fight. Their pastor, Marie Barnett, said “No.” She and the Church Council took me to the site. As we surveyed the ruined building, the attackers began emerging through the trees, rocks in hand. I looked about for a place to duck and cover. Council members reached down for rocks. Pastor Marie told them, “Put down the rocks.” She then turned to the attackers and said, “We will not fight you. This land is legally ours, but if you want it so badly, it is yours. It will be our gift to you.” And then she said the words Joseph spoke to his brothers long ago: “You have meant to do harm, but God will bring something good from this.”
Now that’s different! That’s hopeful! Pastor Marie was different, and though I will never know if she made a difference in the lives of the attackers, I know she made a difference in the lives of her congregation – and in mine. I swore that day I would never again give in to despair; I would never again doubt the power of forgiveness and the efficacy of “Do not repay evil for evil - Do not take revenge - Overcome evil with good.”
Despair can be lethal. It’s what happens when people are reduced to a sense of hopelessness. When we feel that we have nothing to lose, some turn to throwing rocks or suicide bombings and hijackings. Some turn to anger and fear and retaliation and unforgiveness. But this can’t be us. We must not despair. We need to find our difference, rekindle our faith here and now in our very difficult circumstances. We’ve got the fear of terrorism, we’ve got war, we’ve got wildfires and floods. The economy is bad. There is unrest in Jesus’ Church. These can make us hard, angry, unforgiving – or these can be prime conditions for spiritual renewal. These can shake us up, make us look at the life we hold in our hands, make us rethink our lives, our priorities, our convictions, our faith. They can make us look at our own sins, see that all the fault is not always on the other side.
We know that there is a better way of being human than giving in to the despair of our times, to fear and unforgiveness. We know we are not supposed to be limited, frightened beings.
When it’s time to forgive we need to be different to make a difference.
Amen.
