May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord our God.
We’re taught from a young age to say sorry, apologize well, and to truly mean it. Most of us likely went through a similar song and dance while being taught how to apologize – I would do something wrong, an adult in my life would tell me to say sorry, I would mutter sorry under my breath, they would tell me to look the person who I aggrieved in their eyes and apologize for my specific action, I would get all bashful, they would leverage some punishment if I did not apologize, and then I would finally say a half-hearted, “I’m sorry for [insert whatever the thing I did wrong here].” Does this sound familiar to anyone? Then, apologies grew weightier as we grew older. Suddenly, the wrongs that we did to people – or have had done to us – seemed to cut more deeply, hurt more profoundly, and had longer-lasting shelf lives. Our actions, and the actions of others, began to have the potential to trigger old pain from childhood. This means that to apologize as an adult requires more thought, intentionality, and accountability. Does this sound familiar to anyone? But, for all the lessons we’ve had throughout life about how to apologize, how often have we been taught how to forgive? If you’re like me, the extent of learning forgiveness was to simply say, “it’s okay,” and move on. Yet, if you’re like me, the pain of the hurt didn’t simply go away after you externally uttered a forgiving sentiment. The other person may have felt forgiven but, internally, the hurt, anger, disappointment, and sadness remained. Forgiveness hadn’t truly been given. To truly forgive is not simply to express acceptance of an action or inaction to another. Rather, to truly forgive is a continuous internal process of grieving, growing, and reconciling. Our scripture readings today bring the concept of forgiveness to the forefront of our hearts and our minds. In both our reading from Genesis and our reading from Matthew, we hear very human stories about the difficulty of forgiveness. In Matthew, we read of a servant whose debt was forgiven, but who cannot forgive his fellow servant. We are reminded that forgiving one another is hard, in light of our human selfishness and desire to survive. In Genesis, we hear of Joseph’s brothers, who are terrified of being forgiven. We are reminded that feeling worthy of receiving forgiveness is hard, in light of our perceived human brokenness and unworthiness. And yet, the Bible – the Word of God – tells us time and time again of the liberating power of forgiveness, both that which is given and that which is received. Story after story teaches us what it means to forgive and how to forgive, because God first loved us so much, that God forgave all of humanity, for all of our wrongdoings, through Christ who lived, was sacrificed, and rose again for us. Given that God forgave – and continuously forgives – us, we now, as God’s community, have a responsibility to learn to enact this forgiveness in our world as part of making heaven a reality on earth. So, when we talk about forgiveness in this biblical, spiritual sense, what do we even mean? The forgiveness about which we are speaking is much more than that forced smile and the begrudging “it’s okay,” that most of us have likely expressed when someone says, “I’m sorry.” Forgiveness as a spiritual practice is a continuous internal process of grieving, growing, and reconciling. Forgiveness requires a transformation of the heart. An openness, a willingness to be vulnerable, and deep empathy for our shared humanity. It is risky. Forgiveness is a continuous process because, as we grieve, grow, and reconcile, we may be hurt again. Our past wounds may reemerge and the pain may sting, thus causing more distance between ourselves and the person who we are forgiving. It is a grieving process because, as we seek to forgive, we may deny, grow angry, bargain, fall into depression, and eventually accept. Yet, as we all know, the stages of grief are not a neat line; but rather, may resemble taking one step forward and two steps back. But, throughout all of this, growth is occurring as we begin to reconcile ourselves – mind, body, and spirit – with those who we aggrieved or those who aggrieved us. Because, when we speak of forgiveness as a spiritual practice, it is God’s example of forgiveness we hold in our minds and our hearts. Through Christ’s sacrifice, God reconciled us to God, restoring and renewing our relationship in a covenant of love, grace, and acceptance. Yet, as we talk God-inspired forgiveness today, we cannot overlook our humanness. God constantly forgives each of us, end of story. As sure as the sun rises and sets, our relationship with God is constantly renewed and restored. We do not need to do more than simply be ourselves. We, however, are likely not that gracious. We are not God. Most of us do not have unending patience, compassion, and grace. We harbor our hurt, and our pain lives in our spirits, minds, and bodies. And friends, let me tell you, that is okay. It is okay if we are at a point that we cannot yet forgive others, forgive ourselves, or accept the forgiveness from another. There may be valid, self-preserving reasons that we cannot yet forgive someone else. Valid reasons that our heart is still closed off. In our attempt to survive, we may resort to our childhood selves who bashfully looked away and mumbled a half-hearted, “I’m sorry,” but who never experienced an internal heart change of true forgiveness. We may also not be ready to forgive someone else, because we cannot allow ourselves to feel forgiven, accepted, and loved. If we cannot show grace to ourselves, how can we be expected to show it to someone else? If you find yourself in this place, in the place of the servant unable to forgive the debt after their debt was forgiven, or in the place of Joseph’s brothers, terrified of being forgiven, have compassion for yourself because forgiveness as a spiritual practice is a continuous internal process of grieving, growing, and reconciling. Be curious. Your heart, spirit, and mind are telling you something – listen; and also know that you are forgiven. As we talk about forgiveness today, we are inspired by the vision of God’s forgiveness, freely given to each of us. A forgiveness bestowed upon us daily, because of God’s unending grace and love for us. We, however, are not God. We are human – whose experiences have been shared by humanity throughout history, the same human experiences about which we read in scripture, where we read of God’s love, compassion, and grace for all people. What matters is that we try to live into this vision of reconciliation, in order to make heaven a reality on earth, and in our hearts. That we try to be open, vulnerable, empathetic, compassionate, gracious, loving, and forgiving; both when we are hurt, and when we hurt others. So today, whether you need to forgive someone, forgive yourself, or be forgiven – may you listen to the stirrings in your heart, remember that forgiveness is a continuous internal process of grieving, growing, and reconciling, and allow yourself to experience the liberating power of God’s forgiveness of all. Amen. |