Sunday, April 21, 2013

Keeping Track


The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Matthew 18:15-22
April 21, 2013 • Portage First UMC

April 15. Usually a date we associate with the dreaded paying of the taxes. But from this point on, certainly for the folks who live in Boston, April 15 will be the day the bombs went off and the safety and security of the world’s oldest annual marathon was disrupted. 2:50 p.m. Eastern time, more than two hours after the winners had crossed the finish line but while others were still finishing the race, a bomb went off near the finish line with another explosion a block away just a few seconds later. We’ve all seen the pictures, heard the stories and know the numbers: more than 170 injured, three killed including an eight-year-old boy. Once again our world has been shattered, and we wonder where, if anywhere, we can turn for safety, for security. It’s horrible. It’s tragic. It’s awful and it rightly shakes us up. And it made me think of the folks whom I’ve met in the Middle East, who deal with the fear every day of something like that happening. We’ve been incredibly sheltered, even after 9/11, and yet that reality doesn’t make it any less horrific.

So what do we do? How do we respond? Not just to this particular instance, horrible as it is. How do we respond when we’ve been attacked—whether we’re talking about a national incident, an international event, or even all the way down to something that hurts us personally, something that directly affects us. For those in Boston, that’s not a theoretical question. How will they respond? How should we respond? Well, the temptation is to add this to the list. You know the list. It’s the one we keep that’s full of all the hurts, all the wounds, all the ways people have “done us wrong.” We all have a list, and it’s full of hurts, injuries, wounds, words unkindly spoken. Maybe it has a divorce on it, or a person who stole from us, or the company that used our talents and then threw us away. We all have a list, because we’re good at keeping track of the ways we’ve been hurt. So the question really is this: what do we do with the list? Maybe a better question is: what can we do that is in the best interest of our soul? We have a choice when things like the bombings in Boston or the words unkindly spoken happen. Do we get angry and bitter or do we respond as Christians are told to respond? Do we seek to forgive?

This morning, we’re in the middle of a sermon series focused on forgiveness, and two weeks ago, we talked about what it means to be forgiven by God. Last Sunday, Pastor Deb helped us think about how forgiveness happens between spouses. And this morning, then, we come to look at how we practice forgiveness between others: close family members, friends, even church family members. In all of this, I never want you to get the idea that either Deb or I—or Jesus, for that matter—think that forgiveness is an easy thing. It’s not. It’s hard. It’s difficult work, and it takes a lot of energy. It’s most often a process, and in fact, it most often needs to be a process. To forgive too quickly means we probably haven’t really dealt with the injury, the pain that has happened. And yet, isn’t that the typical Christian response? We simply pretend everything is all right, that the other person hasn’t really done anything wrong. We put on a false front. It’s like when a crack develops in a wall, our first response is to put some filler in it, sand it and paint over it. Crack gone. Problem solved. Except that we haven’t dealt with the possible structural matters that caused the crack in the first place. And so it’s very possible the crack will return. When we forgive too quickly, we just paint over it and we don’t really deal with the foundational issues (cf. Wright, Matthew for Everyone, Part Two, pg. 35). Working through the process of forgiveness is saying it did happen, it does matter, and I’m willing to deal with it. I’m done keeping track, and I want to be able to erase it off my list. So how do we do that?

One day, Jesus was asked about who the greatest person in the kingdom of heaven is. Undoubtedly, knowing their track record, the disciples were likely expecting Jesus to point to one of them. But he doesn’t. Instead, he calls a child to stand in the middle of the group and says, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (18:3). Right away, Jesus gets to the point: greatness in the kingdom of heaven is not about accolades or achievements. It’s not about what you’ve done. It’s about who you are, the kind of character you cultivate. And so in the next few verses he describes that sort of character, including the way we forgive. I sort of think he kept the child standing there, because little children more naturally forgive. Somewhere along the way, we learn we’re supposed to keep track. But little children can fight over a toy one minute and then be the best of the friends the next. Jesus wants us to have that same, eager approach to forgiveness, but he knows it’s not that easy for us grown-ups. So he describes a process we are to go through when someone hurts us, when someone sins against us. Now, I know we’ve heard this before. I know I’ve preached on it before (more than once), but this may be one of Jesus’ hardest teachings. It’s certainly one that we put into practice the least. It’s not easy to do what Jesus says to do here, and our tendency is instead to keep track of the hurts. But we know where that leads. If we don’t deal with them, they will come back and we’ll be hurt people who hurt people. So what does Jesus tell us to do?

Jesus says first, we go talk to the person who has hurt us. We don’t go talk to others. We don’t go and try to build our case with those who aren’t involved. We don’t build support for ourselves. We go directly and talk to the person who has hurt us. Jesus says it’s supposed to be “just between the two of you” (18:15). Honestly, this is probably where we get it wrong the most, in the very first step Jesus gives. We tend to talk to everyone but the person who has hurt us. There’s a word for that: gossip. We do it because we want to prove how right we are. Or we want to hurt them in someone else’s eyes as much as or more than they’ve hurt us. Or we post it on Facebook to see how many “likes” we can get, proving we’re in the right and people are on our side. There’s a word for that, too: slander. Or, in our highly litigious society, we go straight for the lawyer if we think we can hurt them that way or get something out of it. Jesus doesn’t give us any of those options. Instead, he says talk to the person who has hurt you. One on one. “Point out their fault,” he says, but he doesn’t mean we go in a spirit of superiority or anger. The aim is not to win or score points. In fact, Jesus says, the aim is to win them over, to win them back as a brother or sister (18:15). This takes humility, and recognizing that there is probably hurt on both sides. You may need to listen as much as you need to talk. These things are hard to hear, as well as to say, so we approach the other in a spirit of love and humility (cf. Carson, “Matthew,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 8, pg. 402). We’ll talk in a few moments about how we do that. But it’s important to remember the first step: we approach the other person, one on one, without going to anyone else first.

If that doesn’t bring about healing, or reconciliation, then Jesus says we are to “take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses’” (18:16). This should only happen after some more prayer and thought. Are you still absolutely convinced there is a wrong to be settled (Wright 35)? If so, then we gather a couple of close friends, people whom we know will keep confidentiality, people we can absolutely trust, people preferably who love both of you, and we get together with the one who has hurt us. This is not to “gang up on” someone, or to bash them. It’s for the purpose of reconciliation, restoration. These friends will serve two purposes. First, as Jesus says, they are witnesses to what is said and done, making sure both sides are cared for. In the Old Testament, nothing could be said to be true unless it was witnessed by two or three people. Remember in the trial of Jesus, the biggest difficulty they had in convicting him was to get two stories to agree (cf. Mark 14:56-59)? They knew Deuteronomy 19:15: “One witness is not enough to convict anyone accused of any crime or offense they may have committed. A matter must be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.” The friends also serve as a reality check. They give an outside perspective that neither of you may be able to see right away because you’re too close to the situation. So take two friends with you.

As a last resort, if forgiveness still doesn’t take place, Jesus says to “tell it to the church” (18:17). Now, he’s not talking about “church” in our modern sense. The word better translates as “gathering” or “assembly.” We need to remember that the earliest Christian assemblies were more like a small group within the Jewish synagogue. The first Christians continued to be part of the synagogue community until they were thrust out largely beginning around A.D. 70 and continuing into the 100’s. So when Jesus, through Matthew’s Gospel, is talking about “church,” he’s not talking about standing up in front of a congregation like ours and announcing someone’s sin. He’s talking about taking it to the assembly of Christians, which would be more like a small group or an accountability group in our day. It would filled with people who are close to each other, who genuinely love each other. In fact, among those early Christians, it very well might have been filled with people who were related to each other. The “brother or sister” in verse 15 might not necessarily be figurative. So the “church” is a group that cares for both people, a group for whom reconciliation truly means something. For forgiveness not to happen here will likely mean the splintering of the group.

In our first church, Cathy and I were part of a couples’ small group that met every Friday night. It was a group that had all sorts of ages and personalities, and we met faithfully during the year, but then took the summer off. Leading up to and during the summer, we began to hear rumblings of one of the couples having trouble. They couldn’t work it out amongst themselves, and even having some close friends step in didn’t help. The next thing to do should have been for our small group to come alongside and offer help, love and support in bringing reconciliation and forgiveness, but we didn’t do that. In fact, our group never met again because to do so meant we would have to face our failure to care for our brother and sister. That couple got a divorce, but I’ve always wondered what might have happened had we cared for them they way Jesus tells us to. Could forgiveness, of whatever it was, have taken place? I don’t know, but Jesus gives that last chance. Bring it to your assembly, and seek forgiveness and reconciliation.

If that doesn’t happen, then, Jesus gives some very harsh words: “Treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector” (18:17). “Pagans and tax collectors” was a colloquial way of talking about those who were outside the community. The sinners. Sometimes it was “Gentiles and tax collectors.” Same thing. Those who didn’t belong. Jesus says treat the unrepentant as someone who is outside the community. Now, some read this and hear “excommunication” or “shunning,” and there is a certain element of that here. They are no longer part of the assembly, the community. They become outsiders. But it’s also important to remember, as Adam Hamilton points out, that the ones Jesus came after, the ones Jesus sought, the ones Jesus spent the most time with are the Gentiles, the pagans, and he even had a tax collector as one of his disciples. Do you remember which one? Matthew, the author of this Gospel. I think Jesus is saying you treat someone who refuses to do the hard work of reconciliation as an outsider—because that work of forgiveness is at the core of what it means to be a Christian—but you never forget that Jesus still loves that person, and you never stop reaching out to them, inviting them back into the fellowship (cf. Hamilton, Forgiveness, pg. 90; Carson 403). Remember: the goal in all of this is to win them back (cf. 18:15), to experience forgiveness and even reconciliation.

So that’s the process Jesus describes for pursuing forgiveness, but how do we prepare ourselves? How do we personally approach a broken relationship? Adam Hamilton (73-75) suggests three steps for developing our own attitude, and perhaps you can remember them with the acronym RAP. The first, the R, is this: remember your own shortcomings. There are things we get upset about in someone else that, if we’re honest, we have done ourselves. Take a very simple example, like how upset we get when someone cuts us off in traffic, or when they go out of turn at a four-way stop. It’s easy to grumble about that, to let our spirits get so upset, even to have a few things to say to and about that other person, even if they’ll never hear us. But ask yourself: have you ever cut someone off? Have you ever gone out of turn? Well, yes, we say, but I really needed to. Remember your own shortcomings. None of us are perfect, and it’s likely we’ve done the very thing to someone else that upsets us when it’s done to us.

That leads us to the second piece: A - assume the best of the person who slighted you. Sometimes we get so upset about small things, so worked up, and we assume the other person intended the slight, intended to hurt us specifically. That may not be and often is not the case. Assume the best of the other person. They may have had a bad day. They may be grumpy because someone was mean to them earlier in the day. They may have hidden hurts that you can’t and won’t ever be able to see or understand. And they may have simply misspoke, or you may have misunderstood what they said. I can’t tell you how many times that’s been true of me, and maybe that’s a place where you struggle, too. We are so inundated with communication these days—so many words—that we often fail to hear what’s really being said. If we assume the best of the other person, we’ll be seeking always to clarify and not jump to conclusions.

So, remember your own shortcomings, assume the best of the other person, and pray for them. R-A-P. Now, prayer should go without saying, but often it’s the very last thing we do. We act before we pray. We speak before we pray. How often does that mean we end up hurting others out of our own hurt? Remember—hurt people often hurt people. Perhaps that’s one reason Paul told us to “pray continually” (1 Thessalonians 5:17), because if we’re doing that, we’ll be praying through every act of hurt, every need of forgiveness. Approach every situation with prayer, and not just you doing all the talking. Make room for silence so that God can shape and mold you into the person you must be to pursue forgiveness.

So, Jesus says talk to the person, then if necessary take a couple of friends, and if forgiveness still doesn’t happen, then talk to your small group, your “assembly.” And treat the other person as you would want to be treated: remembering your own shortcomings, assuming the best of the other person, and praying for them. Naturally, all of this brings up a question: how often should we do this? This seems like a lot of work. Is there a limit of how many times we should forgive someone? Peter wondered that. When he heard Jesus’ teaching, he came right out and asked: “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” (18:21). Peter was being generous. The consensus of the rabbis of the day is that you should forgive a repeated sin three times; on the fourth time, they could not and should not be forgiven. Three times. And so Peter ups the ante: how about I forgive them seven times, Jesus? How’s that? Jesus tells Peter and the rest of them, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times” (18:22), and then he goes on to tell a parable that reminds them they have been forgiven far more than they will ever forgive (Carson 405). In other words, Jesus says keeping track is not the point. Seventy seven times or, as some Bibles have it, seventy times seven—if you’re keeping track, you’re missing the point. You’ve been forgiven much more than you could ever forgive. So don’t worry about how many times. Focus instead on becoming and being a forgiving person.

Well, some say, if I forgive, aren’t they getting off the hook? I mean, don’t they need to ask me first? Well, it is true that full reconciliation cannot happen without the other person acknowledging their sin, and so yes, in an ideal world, that person would come to you and ask for forgiveness first. But we don’t live in an ideal world. And forgiveness, by and large, is about the health of our own soul. Someone has said it this way: to refuse to forgive is to allow the other person to live rent-free in your head. They control you. They imprison you. Forgiveness is the key that lets us out. Jesus routinely forgave people who didn’t ask for it; the supreme example, of course, are his words from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). So whether they ask for forgiveness or not, we have to consider what refusing to forgive does to our soul.

But what about consequences? Doesn’t forgiveness let them out of the consequences? Not always. Sometimes, but not always. My kids will routinely say the words, “I’m sorry,” as a way to try to get out of punishment for whatever it is they did. And my standard response these days is, “I love to hear you say that, but what I really want to see is a change in behavior.” Or think about the spouse who asks for forgiveness for an indiscretion. The other spouse may indeed grant forgiveness, but that doesn’t mean the consequences immediately go away. There are things that have to be worked out. Again, forgiveness is about the health of your soul, and even those who confess some crime or ask forgiveness of their victims still have to face the penalty for what they did. Only in God do we find perfect forgiveness, where he chooses not to remember the offense (cf. Jeremiah 31:34).

But what about the big sins? What about Boston? Can we ever forgive such an act? Not right away. There is a sense of righteous anger that comes out of such an event. And we will need time, as individuals and as a nation, to come to grips with what happened, if we even ever learn a reason or who did it. But the hard work of rebuilding the health of our nation’s soul began on Tuesday. I think part of the never-ending news coverage is our attempt to deal with the horror and the tragedy without having to talk about forgiveness. Eventually, the news will move to something else, but we will still need to work on healing our nation’s soul. Remember, this is the Jesus who said when we forgive, we will be forgiven, and that if we don’t forgive, we won’t be forgiven (cf. Matthew 6:14-15). Tom Wright pictures that as being like breathing. If we try to hold in our anger, our hurt, our bitterness, it will poison us. We need to breathe out, let it out, so that we can experience the new life and new hope and the fresh air of God’s spirit. When we’re open and willing to forgive others, we will also be open to receiving God’s forgiveness. But if we’re closed off to the one, we’ll be closed off to the other (Wright 40). There’s a member of our church who has experienced this over the last few years, and she’ll be very quick to tell you that forgiveness is most definitely a process, not an event. There are events along the way, but forgiveness takes time. I could tell you her story, but it’s better if she tells it. Take a listen.

VIDEO: Annette Wray, forgiveness

You see, forgiveness does not come when we ignore the hurt. Forgiveness says it did happen, it did hurt, and I’m going to deal with it (Wright 35). And, ultimately, freedom comes when we stop keeping track, when we turn it over, give it up to God who is the only just judge. We are not. So let me ask the question we’ve been asking over these weeks: who is it you need to forgive? Or who is it you need to talk with to pursue forgiveness and reconciliation? Let me give you just a moment of quiet, as you get their name and face in your heart and mind. <SILENCE> Do you remember? Now, let me ask you this: what have you done to pursue healing? Not what have they done to hurt you. If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably rehearsed that over and over and over again. What have you done to pursue healing? So, what’s the next thing you need to do, according to Jesus? I want to challenge you to do that this week. Don’t put it off. Let’s be people who are obedient to Jesus this week, and push back just a little more of the darkness in our world. Forgiveness will do that, and it’s really the best and most important thing we have to offer our world, especially in a week like this, where we’ve been confronted with tragedy and crisis. Our nation, our communities, our relationships long for wholeness, healing, and forgiveness. What will you do this week to pursue those things? It’s costly. It’s hard. But waiting just around the corner from bitterness and anger is hope, joy and peace. It’s worth the risk. Let’s pray.

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