The heart of the Triune God is and always has been utter forgiveness and reconciliation, and it is that heart that will replace yours to be the same.
Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 24 A
Texts: Matthew 18:21-35; Genesis 50:15-21
Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
Listen to what God says:
“[A]fter those days, . . . I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts, and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. . . . [T]hey shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, for I will forgive their iniquity and remember their sin no more.” (Jeremiah 31:33-34)
In these treasured words from Jeremiah, God’s true nature is revealed to us. From the beginning of Scripture, from the life of our Hebrew forebears through our own, the Triune God’s heart is set on reconciliation and forgiveness. As we’ll consider tomorrow at our Eucharist on Holy Cross Day, God’s forgiveness doesn’t start at or depend on the cross of Christ. It’s quite literally always God’s whole heart.
That’s why forgiveness isn’t optional when you follow Christ.
It’s literally a command of the One on whose life and death our own lives and deaths depend, the One whose heart saves us and shapes our own heart.
And like Peter, that’s a challenge for us. So, like Peter, we negotiate. How much forgiveness? How often? Who deserves it? Virtually every conversation among Christians about forgiveness quickly moves to negotiation and compromise, rules and boundaries, seeking any options other than Jesus’ clear meaning.
Because Jesus is perfectly clear here today: forgiven people forgive. Period. We can negotiate all we want. We just won’t be talking about forgiveness.
If we are following Christ, if we are Christ, Jesus commands us to forgive.
But there’s another challenge in Jeremiah’s word of God.
Did you hear the last bit? God says, “I will remember their sin no more.” God covenants with us not only forgiveness, not only that we, that you, belong to God forever. God promises even to forget your sins and mine.
God wants nothing to do with “I can forgive, but I can’t forget.” The forgetting completes the forgiveness. And we struggle with that. We might be able to imagine forgiving someone for a wrong they’ve committed against us. But releasing that wrong from our head, out of our memory, that’s hard. Every time we remember someone has hurt us, every time we see their face, we’re hurt all over again. We forgive, but then we think of it again. We forgive, but then we remember and feel the pain all over again.
So today Jesus says, forgive it again. And again. And again. Seventy-seven times. Or seventy times seven times if you have to. As long as it takes for the hurt to be lost to you, unimportant, nothing.
If we are following Christ, if we are Christ, God asks us to forgive every time we remember the hurt. Until it’s gone.
As long as we’re counting ways this command is hard, here’s another.
We’d be glad to forgive, we say, if and when the other person repents. If and when the other apologizes. If and when we think they’re sincere.
But Jesus commands, “Forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” Period. We’re never told to wait for them to do something. Jesus commands, “love one another as I have loved you.” Period. Jesus never gives preconditions for our self-giving love.
Look at Joseph and his brothers. Their father has died, and they’re convinced Joseph only held back from punishing them for their evil against him because Daddy was still alive. Now that he’s gone, they’re worried. A lot.
But they don’t repent. They lie and say that Jacob, before he died, had commanded them to tell Joseph to forgive them. And Joseph will have none of that. He weeps, he forgives them, he promises to always provide for them and their little ones. He acts like Jesus would act.
If we are following Christ, if we are Christ, God commands us to forgive, regardless of what the other one does. Because forgiveness is about your heart, not the other person’s.
All these together seem overwhelmingly impossible.
We are commanded to forgive. We are told to forgive as often as we need to until we forget the offense. And it doesn’t matter if the other ever regrets, repents, apologizes, asks forgiveness. Who could ever do this? How is it possible?
Well, this truth about God changes us forever. God’s heart of forgiveness, the 10,000 talent/billion dollar forgiveness of this parable, changes your heart. God loves you beyond comprehension and even dies to prove that love. Dies to break your heart. Dies to show you forever that you are always forgiven and loved. Then, risen from the dead, the Son of God does what the Son of God always does: invites you to love, to become Christ yourself.
When we follow Christ, when we are Christ, this is the pattern God shapes in you and in me. Forgive first, because God does. Love first, because God does. The healing act that saves you and me is God forgiving us into life. The healing act that will save the world is when we do the same.
Once you grasp this astonishing love of God for you, anything is possible.
Once you can trust how beloved you are, how God forgives you before you even figure out your mess, once that actually touches you, it will be impossible for you to act like this person in Jesus’ parable.
Your heart of stone is replaced with a heart of love, just as we prayed at the start of this liturgy. You’ll lose interest in doing forgiveness math, negotiating limits or boundaries. You won’t wait for the other to repent or feel sorry. Instead, you’ll find such joy in offering forgiveness, such healing of your heart, that you’ll finally begin to understand why it’s God’s way, too. It’s how relationships are healed, life between people is restored, and hope is brought into reality.
May God replace our hearts of stone with hearts of love, that we might become Christ’s forgiving love to others, and find our true joy.
In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen
