Showing posts with label Forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Forgiveness. Show all posts

Monday, April 28, 2025

Forgiveness is a Gift: April 27, 2025

Easter 2, Year C          John 20: 19-31
        When my husband and I got engaged, we were both in the ordination process. We often spoke of what it would be liked to be married to another priest. We decided that while there were several drawbacks, there were also some perks. For instance, we would both be able to understand the hazards of clergy apparel. We could discuss the text that we were preaching on the coming Sunday. We would both find our church humor hysterical. Yet what we were most excited about was the prospect of absolving one another. 
         Absolve is another word for forgive. However, it has liturgical connotations. After the confession, the priest stands in front of the congregation and absolves everyone on behalf of Jesus Christ. It is not the priest who is doing the forgiveness, the priest is sort of the conduit. God is the one who is doing the actual forgiving. We call it a corporate confession, because we all do it together. In the Episcopal Church, people are also allowed to seek private confession with a priest. We just do not have those cute booths they have in the Roman Catholic Church, and no one actually knows it’s available, even though it is in the prayer book. It has become one of those fun trivia facts I like to share with people. 
         Roman Catholic priests trace their beginnings to the 12 apostles. In the Episcopal Church, we do that to some extent---although we don’t put the same importance on it as they do. The Roman Catholic Church has always been more adamant about the idea of the priest being Christ’s representative on earth. (That is one of the reasons that a priest has to be a man.) This idea of the clergy’s authority to absolve comes partly from this reading from John. Jesus said to his disciples, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you…If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them…” Jesus was giving his apostles something that not only would they need but also something that all Christians would need. The best people to convey this gift of forgiveness were those who had spent the most time with him, essentially been trained by Jesus. 
         The idea of Christian leaders forgiving others eventually became doctrine in the church and was corrupted in some circles. One of the things that the Protestant Reformation sought to do was to remove the priest as a mediator between the people and God. At this time, in the 1500’s and before, a person had to seek forgiveness from a priest. They could not simply confess their sins to God. This paved the way for a corrupt practice called indulgences, where people would “donate” money to the church or the priest to have their sins forgiven, or even forgive the sins of loved ones who had already died. Given how corrosive this practice was, one can understand why the church reformers were eager to get rid of the middleman (and yes, it was always a man). 
         The Church of England (which is our mother church) was just being formed at this point (right around the time of the Protestant Reformation) and as usual they sought the middle way, the compromise between the Protestants and the Catholics. While this middle way has taken on many different forms, the idea has always been the while people can confess directly to God, there is also the provision for a priest to declare this forgiveness verbally. Sometimes it is good to hear it out loud. 
        I have always been a little uncomfortable with this part of my job. I know that a priest doesn’t need to pronounce forgiveness for forgiveness to be granted. It makes me feel a little hypocritical knowing that I am so heavy with my own sin, and yet here I stand pronouncing forgiveness for all of you. Yet where I find comfort, is in the flaws of the apostles themselves. Jesus was very aware of the many imperfections of the men who were cowering in that room. Yet despite their failures, Jesus still asked his apostles to be his representative, to forgive others on his behalf, not because they themselves were not in need of forgiveness, but because they knew that they needed it more than anyone. 
         Even though Conor and I have been priests for almost our whole married lives, we pretty much never absolve each other. A couple of times he absolved me when I did not think I needed to be absolved and that was the end of that. Yet we both know, that it does not take a priest to forgive, just a person. Of course you can always expect it from a priest, because it’s part of the job description. 
         Sometimes I think that we see this call to forgive one another as a labor of love. We think it is something we have to do to be good Christians, that we have to forgive others so we can be forgiven, a kind of quid pro quo. However, if we look at it as something that Jesus gave to his most beloved disciples, then maybe it’s not such a hardship. Instead, what if we saw forgiveness as a gift, a gift that we are empowered to use and share? Because the thing about forgiveness is that it always helps both people. Letting go of anger, resentment, bitterness, jealousy, that is a gift to yourself, even more so than the person you may be forgiving. One of my favorite quotes about forgiveness is, “When you forgive you set a prisoner free. And then you discover the prisoner was you.” 
         I am not saying it is easy. I find it especially difficult when the person does not apologize or seem sorry at all. I rationalize my not forgiving them by saying that they do not deserve it, or that they do not even want to be forgiven, so what’s the point? Well that is assuming that forgiveness only benefits the person who is being forgiven. And we know there is more to it than that. 
         Jesus knew what it was to be hurt by the people who he loved the most. I am sure it was not easy to forgive them when he found them huddled in a locked room after deserting him when he was arrested. But he forgave them, and in doing so gave them the power to forgive others. Before they could forgive others, they had to forgive themselves. 
         That is one of the greatest challenges in forgiving others. We haven’t really figured out how to forgive ourselves. Yet we have to forgive ourselves, not because we deserve it, but because God has already forgiven us. By refusing to forgive ourselves or others, we are rejecting God’s grace. If God has already forgiven, we have no right to hold on to our sins or the sins and offenses of others. 
         And I know it’s not easy to let go. I think sometimes we assume forgiveness is some switch we can just turn on and then walk away. Forgiveness, like so many things, is a process. It’s not necessarily a once and done kind of thing. It’s a decision we make over and over again. But it’s a decision worth making. The power to forgive isn’t some special power Jesus gave to his disciples 2000 year ago. It’s a gift God has given to all of us and it’s a gift that we need to share.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Forgiveness Can't be Counted: September 17, 2017

Year A, Pentecost 15                                                  
Matthew 18:21-35                                                     
 

            As you may know, there are many different English translations of the Bible.  For instance, there are some that use more modern language to make the Bible more accessible.  The differences between these different translations can be very subtle. Then there are weird differences.  For instance, in today’s reading, Peter asks Jesus how often he should forgive someone.  He suggests seven, which he probably perceives as a fairly generous allotment.  I certainly would. Jesus’s answer is: “Not 7 times, but, I tell you, 77 times.”  However, there are other translations where Jesus answers, “Not 7 times, but, I tell you, 70 times 7.”  That is 490 times for those of you who are not math people.  That is significantly larger than 77 times.  People have gone back and forth between those two numbers for centuries. Most people don’t worry too much about the specific number, because whether it is 77 or 490…it’s a big number.  Once you have forgiven someone 77 times, what’s another 413 times? 

Yet I find it interesting that different translations are determined to have the correct number, whether it be 490 or 77. Some people even feel the need to argue about it. In our culture, numbers, scores, scales, percentages---all of those things are important.  We put a lot of value in numbers, whether it is a test score, the Dow Jones, salaries, the price of gas, the temperature, the number of people who are at church on any given Sunday, our weight, etc.  Joshua goes to the pediatrician every 3 months.  They weigh him, measure is height and the size of his head.  Then they tell us how he stacks up compared to other children his age.  When my husband takes Joshua and I am not there, he always forgets to write down the percentages, which makes me crazy.  It’s important that I know how the size of his head compares to other children his age.  Numbers are important—maybe more so than they should be.

            It was no different in Jesus’ time.  Numbers mattered to people. That was why Peter was asking such a ridiculous question… “How many times should I forgive someone Jesus? How about 7 times?”  Jesus was smart and he knew that Peter was trying to pin him down.  He would have none of it, so he decided to play along.  77, how does that sound Peter? Or 490?  What Jesus knew—and probably what Peter knew as well-- was that the number doesn’t matter because asking Jesus to assign a number to forgiveness is crazy.  It would be like asking someone to rate how much they love you on a scale on 1 to 10.  There are some places in our lives where numbers are useless.  In some ways, they even get in the way because they distract us from things that matter. 

            Forgiveness is hard, even if you are trying to forgive one person once.  It’s not as clear cut as Peter wanted it to be.  When I read this text, my first thought was, “Not forgiveness again. I’m sick of talking about forgiveness.” It’s not that I don’t like forgiveness. I think it’s great.  There is only so much you can say about forgiveness.  It seems like almost every sermon comes down to this: You should forgive.  It’s good for you. It’s good for the person you are forgiving. God forgives you, so you should forgive others.  If that is true, then why is it so hard? 

I have read stories about people forgiving others for horrible crimes and atrocities.  The people who forgive typically talk about what it can do for the other person.  Being forgiven can break the cycle of sin.  It provides an opportunity to start again. It also provides a healing salve for the relationship and the people involved.  In these stories, the people who forgave the sin said it was good for them. It freed them.   When I hear these stories, I always envision a moment when someone just lets go and suddenly feels lighter and freer.  I have tried that.  I have even written it down.  I forgive so and so. I say it out loud.  Then nothing happens.  I don’t feel a weight lifted off of me.  I don’t feel transformed.  There are certainly sometimes when it is easier to forgive someone, especially when they apologize and seem contrite.  I find that having a conversation with someone and understanding what went behind their actions to be helpful. But it’s the other kind of sins that are harder to forgive, the ones that people won’t even admit are sins, the ones that keep being committed over and over again. 

            That’s what I think Jesus was getting at when he threw that unimaginable number out to Peter.  Forgiveness isn’t a one and done thing.  We can’t just wipe the slate clean and move on.  Forgiveness (for humans) is a process that takes time.  It’s like a wound that heals slowly.  At first you have the wound and it looks ugly.  It also hurts constantly.  Then the wound turns into a bright red scar.  It looks bad, but not quite as bad as before.  It doesn’t hurt all the time. The scar gets lighter every day and every year.  Sometimes it even disappears.  There are also times when the scar remains because the wound was too deep.  It’s better, but it’s still there. That is the way forgiveness works.  It starts the process of healing for you and hopefully the person you are forgiving. 

There are some sins that are easier to forgive and some that are much harder.  We can and should try to forgive and heal…we might try our whole lives and that scar never quite goes away. We might never get to the point where we experience that feeling of being lighter and freer.  Yet that does not mean that we should not try to forgive.  It might even be a matter of admitting that we cannot forgive and turning it over to God….saying, “God, I can’t do this so I am handing it off to you.”

            Often times when I preach about forgiveness, or loving our enemies, someone will say something to the effect of:  “What about the mass murderers…or the people who participate in human trafficking?” I don’t know the answer to that. I really don’t.  However, I think that often times, we go to those drastic examples because it’s easier than thinking about the smaller and more personal sins that are less dramatic, but still hurtful.  For now, let’s not worry about forgiving the mass murderers, the terrorists or the people selling children into slavery.  I am not asking you to forgive them and frankly I don’t think God is too worried about that either. God will judge those people.  God is more concerned about those things that keep us awake at night, the things that just get stuck in our heads as endless loops.  Sometimes those are the things that we need to be forgiven for and occasionally things we need to forgive.  It is those things that keep us from fully loving others, ourselves and most importantly God. 

            Sometimes the hardest sins to forgive are ones that we have committed.  Sure, we have asked forgiveness and we know that God technically forgives all sins…but do we really believe that? Remember who Jesus was talking to in this Gospel reading.  Jesus was talking to Peter, the disciple who denied him and abandoned him before his crucifixion.  Jesus forgave him.  Whatever sin we have committed, God can forgive us.  What we have to do is believe that God can and will forgive our sins, even the ones we commit 77 times.    

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Forgiveness is Self-Preservation: John 20:19-31

Year A, Easter 2     
 April 23, 2017

            On March 28th of 2010, Conor McBride shot his girlfriend of three years.  Conor and Ann had been fighting for over 38 hours and he simply broke.  He immediately regretted it and turned himself in. When her parents were notified, their first question was whether Conor was with her in the ICU where she struggled for her life.  They were shocked to learn that the boy they considered a son, was the one who shot her.   When Ann’s father (Andy) sat with his dying daughter, he felt her say, “Forgive him.”  He said “No,” but he kept hearing the voice of his daughter telling him to forgive the man who shot her.  After four days on life support, her parents realized they would have to let her go.  Her father later said, “I realized it was not just Ann asking me to forgive Conor, it was Jesus Christ, and I hadn’t said no to him before, and I wasn’t going to start then. It was just a wave of joy, and I told Ann: ‘I will. I will.’ ”[1]

            As Andy described what happened, he mentioned that the wounds on his daughter reminded him of the wounds of Jesus Christ.  Apparently she put her hands in front of her face when her boyfriend raised the gun, giving her wounds on her hands and her head.   The author of the Gospel of John reminds us of the scars that Jesus bore when he appeared to his disciples after his resurrection.  He showed them his hands and his side. The scars on his hands were from the nails.  His side bore the mark of the sword that pierced him.  There is no reference to scars on his head, but we know that his head was undoubtedly wounded when the crown of thorns was forced onto his head.  Even if those scars were not present, the disciples would have seen them in their mind’s eye as they looked at the risen Christ for the first time.

            The Gospel of John says that the disciples were hiding for fear of the Jews.   I have a hunch that they were hiding from more than just the Jews.  Remember that when Jesus appears to them this first time, they have already found the empty tomb and Mary Magdalene already reported that she spoke to the resurrected Christ.  What do you think they were more afraid of, the fact that he was dead and gone, or the possibility that he was alive and they would have to face him?  The disciples had not performed very admirably in the last days of Jesus’ life.  Peter had denied him.  Most had abandoned him.   To make matters worse, instead of combing the streets looking for Jesus, they were now hiding in a locked room.  Yes, they were hiding from the Jews.  They were the Jews and they were hiding from their own shame.

Suddenly, Jesus appeared in the room. Before anyone had time to react, he proclaimed, “Peace be with you.”  With those four words, he showed them his hands and his side.  Then he breathed on them.  Normally, I am not too keen on people breathing on me, but this was not just any breath.  This was the breath of God, the Holy Spirit.  With it came joy, hope, and forgiveness.  “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”  With this breath and these words, Jesus was not only forgiving them, he was giving them the authority, the responsibility to forgive others.  All of that makes sense to me.  What does not make sense is the part about retaining sins.  Did Jesus mean that the disciples could withhold God’s forgiveness?

            Ann’s parents did more than just forgive Conor, the man who murdered their daughter.  They visited him in prison every month.  They worked with Conor’s parents and the district attorney to minimize the sentence that was given to Conor using a model called “restorative justice.” This was not easy for anyone, but they felt that was what Ann would have wanted, and what God was asking of them.   When asked about it, Ann’s mother said, “Conor owed us a debt he could never repay. And releasing him from that debt would release us from expecting that anything in this world could satisfy us... I think that when people can’t forgive, they’re stuck... Forgiveness for me was self-preservation.” 

            The disciples weren’t just literally stuck in a locked room.  To some degree, their hearts were locked, buried in a place that was so deep, it was only the breath of God, the forgiveness of God that could bring air to their suffocating lungs.  With the forgiveness of Jesus, they could start coming up for air.  However, it could not end there.  Jesus was forgiving them, so that they could proclaim that forgiveness to others.   Being forgiven only got them half way there.  They might have come up for air, but if they wanted to truly open their hearts, they would have to forgive others.

            We often think that in forgiving others, we are making some sort of sacrifice, or giving them a gift.  Yet that’s the thing about gifts, they are only good if you release them.  Furthermore, we do not own this gift. It is God’s gift.  He just asked us to share that gift with others. A theologian wrote, “When you forgive you set a prisoner free. And then you discover the prisoner was you.”[2]

            I believe that is what Jesus meant when he said, “If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”  If we choose not to forgive someone, we then take on their sin.  And unlike Jesus, we cannot absorb sin without having it affect us.  Another word for forgiveness is “to free” or to “let go.”  In giving us the power to forgive, Jesus gave us freedom, from not only our sins, but the sins of others.  If we don’t use that gift, we will find that while we might not be stuck in a locked room, we might as well be.  Because when we hold on to all of that sin, all of that shame, all of that anger, then our hearts are locked.  Do you think the disciples stayed in that room after they received the Holy Spirit…the breath of God? No, they opened that door and they claimed their freedom.  I think that most of us have little locks on our hearts.  We have them to protect us…but really they are just imprisoning us.  It’s time to open the doors. It’s time to claim our freedom.

 



[2] Lewis Smedes   (from article by Craig Barnes called “Crying Shame”)

Monday, March 23, 2015

March 22, 2015: Jeremiah 34:31-34 & Psalm 119:9-16

Becoming Lighter

Year B, Lent 5                                                                  
                                   
            After my husband was first ordained to the priesthood, he thought it would be funny to absolve me after I sinned.  In our ordination service, the Bishop says that as priests, we are tasked with proclaiming God’s forgiveness after confession.  That is absolution. Really, all Christians are encouraged to forgive others.  The difference is that priests are specifically tasked with proclaiming forgiveness and we have a special hand motions that go along with it. My husband thought this was one of the perks of being a married couple who are both priests.  The problem is, I didn’t confess to him.  I might have said, “Oh I should not have done this or I should have done that.”  But I was not asking for absolution from my husband.  It was really problematic when we did not agree that I sinned.  That was the day when my husband stopped absolving me unless asked…which very rarely happens.   
            Lent is a season when we talk a lot about sin and forgiveness.  That is reflected in the readings, the prayers, the music and at St. John’s, the use of Rite 1. The readings and the opening prayer for today are no exception to this theme. Today’s opening prayer starts with a typical Lenten language. It reads, “Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners” (that’s us).  But it goes on to say, “[Grant] that our hearts may surely be fixed where true joys are to be found.”  This is a perfect prayer for us today.  It reminds us that we need God to forgive one another and ourselves.  We cannot do it on our own. In addition, it notes that our hearts are to be focused not on sin, but on God.
            The Bible provides many wonderful examples of forgiveness.  But it is God in the Old Testament and God embodied in Jesus in the New Testament that provides us with the best examples.  If there is anyone who doesn’t need to forgive, it’s God.  We have fewer than 100 years of sins that might need to be forgiven.  God has an eternity of sins that have been committed against him.  Can you imagine?  If God was like us, he would never sleep; not because God doesn’t need to sleep but because he would be stressing out all night thinking about all the ways people had sinned against him.  And not only does he have an eternity of sins, he has all the people in all of the world who are sinning against him.
            It makes me wonder how he does it. God has an interesting technique that Jeremiah talks about.  He says, “I will forgive their [sin], and remember their sin no more.”  He doesn’t just forgive.  He chooses to forget their sin.  When I read this in Jeremiah, I was surprised.  God is supposed to be all knowing.  How can he just forget stuff?  It’s intentional.  He chooses to forget.  In doing so, he creates the ultimate blank slate.  He doesn’t just wipe the sins away, the slate is demolished.  Those sins are never going to come back.  God is never going to say, “Hey remember when you did such and such… That was messed up!  I hope you don’t do that again.”  That new slate isn’t really a slate at all.  It is a new heart.  Jeremiah says, “...I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they will be my people.” God will engrave his love on our hearts, souls and our and our mind.  It is not a fickle love that comes and goes.  It is there forever.  God asks us to try to love him and others in the same way.  That requires certain openness on our behalf, a willingness to risk.
            We have all heard the phrase: “forgive and forget.”  That is what God is doing.   I am envious of that gift.  I am grateful for the times when I have been forgiven, but I think I would prefer it if it was also forgotten.  I would also prefer not be able to remember certain things.  Then I would not have to forgive because I didn’t remember.  Then again, that would not be forgiveness would it?  It would be selective amnesia.  Alas, God never takes the easy way out and neither can we.  He allowed himself to be crucified.  In doing so he bore the weight of our sins so that we would not have t. It doesn’t get much harder than that. 
            I wish that when I read the absolution after the confession and made the sign of the cross… I wish that we could really believe that-- that you would feel that a weight has been lifted from you.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t always feel like that.  It’s hard to just read the words and here the response, without getting any meaning out of it. Instead, we are going to try a little visualization.  Consider for a moment a difficult memory (not your most difficult or something traumatic), something  you wish God would forget (like an unkind word or deed that you carry that keeps you from fully experiencing the love of God).  Hold it in one hand.  Then consider a betrayal or unkind word or deed that someone did to you.  It might be serious or not, but it haunts you for some reason.  Put that in your other hand.  Hold each in your hand and hear the word of God: “I will forgive their inequity, and remember their sin no more.”   Let go of the sin that you committed, that you wish God would forget.  God already has.  The other one is harder because you were hurt.[1]  You have to forgive that person who hurt you and probably never apologized. Take the next 2 weeks work on letting go of the wrong that had been committed against you remembering that God already has.  Then when you come on Easter, come with the knowledge that not only are you here to celebrate the resurrection of Christ, but to discover the new life that is within you.  I know it sounds easier than it is.  Remember that God never took the easy way out and neither can we. It might help to think of Psalm 119.  One line says,  “With my whole heart I seek you…”  If we were to use our whole heart to seek the Lord, we would not have any room in our heart for painful memories or things we have done.
            The last verse of Psalm 119[2] says “I will not forget your word.”  There are some things that we can let go of and some things or words that we must never forget.  The more we forgive, the more room we will have in our heart for the life giving words of Jesus Christ and his unconditional love.  Life is far too short to live in the ruins of sins we have done and ones that have been done against us.  Instead, let us choose life, a life free from burdens that weigh us down.  At least let us be lighter, so that there is more room for joy and love.



[1] Commentary by David Lose: http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1508 This exercise was his suggestion.
[2] Psalm 119 has 176 verses. I am referring to the last line of portion of the Psalm that we read today.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

April 27, 2014: John 20:19-31

Year A, Easter 2                                                        
 
During my first year of seminary, I had to read a book called We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will be Killed With Our Families.  It was about the Rwandan Genocide of 1994.  There are two main tribes in Rwanda: the Hutus and the Tutsis.  They lived in relative peace, often as neighbors. The Hutus made up 85% of the population.  In 1994 Hutu extremists began a plot to wipe out the entire Tutsi population.  It is estimated that 800,000 Rwandans were killed in a matter of months, the majority were Tutsis.  Seventy percent of the Tutsi population was killed. That book was one of the most painful things I have ever read.  It primarily covered what led up to the genocide, the killing itself, and then a very brief aftermath. While I think about that book every time I see an article about Rwanda, I have not read much about it until this week.

Just this week I saw a piece in the New York Times magazine called, “Portraits of Reconciliation.”  This piece ran on the 20 year anniversary of the beginning of the genocide in Rwanda.  It was here that I read more about what came in the years after the genocide.  When the killing and looting finally ended, the Tutsis (the tribe that was almost obliterated) returned to their homes to find that they were living next door to people who had brutally murdered their families and driven them out.  As you can imagine, this was a difficult way to live.  There were court trials and some of the people who had committed the atrocities were sent to jail, but they eventually got out if they were convicted at all.  The justice system was not equipped for this kind of mass slaughter, and it certainly could not help people emotionally.

A Roman Catholic group aptly called “Pax Christi,” [1] stepped in and introduced a totally different model, reconciliation.  They[2] worked with small groups of Hutus and Tutsis and counseled them over many months.  At the end of the program, the perpetrator would formally request forgiveness from the victim.  If forgiveness was offered, the perpetrator would present the victim with an offering (usually food and banana beer).  

I often wonder what it was like for the disciples to see Jesus after they had abandoned him and denied him.  It probably had not occurred to them that they would see him again, certainly not so soon.  Jesus was aware of their angst and guilt and started with a fairly standard greeting, “Peace be with you.”  But then he followed it up with something a little new.  “Receive the Holy Spirit.  If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

It might seem strange that he did not tell them that they were forgiven.  They had committed some pretty egregious sins. One would think they needed that forgiveness.  If you were here on Maundy Thursday, you might remember that Jesus had already forgiven his disciples when he washed their feet.  He forgave them before they even knew that they needed to be forgiven.  So he did not have to tell them again. Now he was commissioning them to proclaim God’s forgiveness to other people.  We forgive one another in one sense, but when there is a sin that is committed, it is only God who can forgive.  What we do is tap into that that forgiveness.  We proclaim that forgiveness…which you would think would be easier to do than the actual forgiving…but it’s still pretty hard.

Each portrait in the Times’ piece depicted two people: the person who had perpetrated the crime and the person who had suffered from that crime.  One of the pictures depicts a man who killed a family and the mother of the family sits right next to him.  One story was about a woman who was chased from her village.  She became homeless and insane.  She returned to find her home destroyed.  Her husband was gone and she had to care for her children.  One of the men who looted her home asked her forgiveness.  She granted it (although not easily) and he brought 50 people, many who had committed atrocities during the genocide, and rebuilt her home.  In the interview the woman said, “Ever since then, I have started to feel better. I was like a dry stick; now I feel peaceful in my heart, and I share this peace with my neighbors.”[3]

When she compared herself to a dry stick, I was reminded of a line from Psalm 22 that we heard on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.  “My strength is dried up like a potsherd.”  A potsherd is like an old piece of pottery you might find in the ground.  Sometimes we all feel that dryness.  It’s that feeling of being brittle and weak, like we might fall apart at any moment.  Or maybe we are just thirsty, in need of something to sustain us.  The thing that quenched her dry body and heart was the freedom to forgive.  Once she forgave, she was able to find peace and share that peace.

It is no wonder that Jesus brought both peace and a challenge to forgive when he came to the disciples.  He knew that they would need to share this message of forgiveness with others because it is not something that comes to us naturally.  It can be a very hard thing to do.  I have always found the line “If you retain the sins of any, they are retained” to be a little strange.  Does that mean that we can withhold God’s forgiveness?  Of course not.  We cannot control who God forgives.  But we can withhold forgiveness in the sense that when we refuse to forgive, we hold on to that sin…we retain it.  We become like a dry stick, brittle and weak. 

            When you look at the portraits, and I encourage you to do so, you will not see warm and fuzzy images.  Most of the people look pretty awkward. Some have become close, but most have not.  Part of the reason they forgave was because they had to live with these people.  It was the only way they could survive.  We think that when we forgive, when we share God’s forgiveness that it will be easy and natural.  Usually it’s not.  That dry and brittle feeling might stick around for awhile.  When Jesus returned, he made sure to show his disciples his wounds.  Even though he was back from the dead, he still carried his wounds.  Forgiving others…forgiving ourselves does not erase the wounds, it transforms them into something else.  Sometimes that transformation will take longer than 3 days….maybe longer than 3 or 30 years.

            The man who looted the home of the woman I quoted also spoke of the process of reconciliation.  He said, “I had lost my humanity because of the crime I committed, but now I am like any human being.”  It is amazing to me that we can lose our humanity.  People can take it from us; sin can take it from us.  At least it feels that way.  But God never takes away our humanity.  That is God’s gift to us.  We are created in God’s image and no one can change that.  We tarnish ourselves and we tarnish others, but God’s image is always there, waiting to shine through.

            It made me smile when I read that part of the reconciliation process is for the perpetrator to bring an offering of food and banana beer. I thought, that seems like a pretty pathetic offering in comparison to what they did.  Then I thought of what we offer to God on Sundays.  We bring wine and bread.  We might bring some food for the local food pantry, and then whatever money we can spare.  This is the offering we give to Jesus for his sacrifice on the cross.  At least the food they offer in Rwanda is fresh!  Those wafers are the most stale bread you can imagine. 

But that’s not really what the offering is about is it? Psalm 51 says, “The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart.”  The banana beer and wine is nice, but what God really wants is a contrite heart and heart ready to forgive.  A broken and contrite heart might feel brittle and weak to us.  To God, it is the most beautiful and powerful thing we can offer. 



[1] http://www.paxchristi.net/member-organizations/rwanda/193
[2] Association Modest et Innocent (AMI) was the specific group that worked in Rwanda.