Peter
asks, “Lord,
how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?”
Jesus
said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven
times.”
In another translation the number is seventy times seven,
and if you can do the math, keeping in mind how often we must forgive,
you’ll appreciate a sermon title I ran across once which was “488,
489, 490,….POW!”
Can
you relate to that? After how many times does your “POW” take
effect? Even if we use the first translation it would be “75,
76, 77, POW!” Or even if we just used Peter’s
question it would be for most of us, I believe, more typically “5,
6, 7, POW!” How about “-2, -1, 0, POW?” That’s
the human condition, if history and our own experience is any judge.
Forgiveness doesn’t come easy, if at all.
I could
have wished for a more uplifting text on this Sunday of all Sundays
when we come back all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed from a summer
away from our church programs, returning to choir and church school
and adult forums and, for some, coming to a new church, searching
for a community that will welcome you and give you an experience
of God. But I find it ironic that the theme of forgiveness in our
appointed scripture should occur on this fourth anniversary of 9/11.
If ever there were a reason for “-1, 0, 1, POW,” in
response to a wrong, 9/11 was surely it. Our country responded by having
a War on Terrorism declared, determined to punish those who claimed
the lives of so many innocent people—and who continue to claim
the lives of thousands of people around the world.
Recalling
the terrible events of 9/11/01 is painful for all of us, but it’s also helpful to recall a compassion many of us felt
for those who would come under the scrutiny and suspicion of others
by virtue of their religion or ethnic identity. Peter Gomes, pastor
to Harvard University’s Memorial Church, writes
Among
the many urgent concerns I heard in the college yard on the afternoon
of September 11 was the desire for the wellbeing of Muslim students,
and especially those from Arab lands. In the Christian prayer groups
that sprang into action within hours of the terrible news from New
York, prayers for “our Muslim brothers and sisters” were
uttered with a sincerity and passion as students gathered together
by instinct for prayer and encouragement.
During
the first Gulf War when George Bush’s father was President,
my older daughter Elizabeth was in a boarding school in Massachusetts.
While the temptation for most of us was to cheer our forces on against
the evil Iraqis, and to fear for the wellbeing of American forces—much
as we do now—one of my daughter’s best friends was a Muslim
girl from Saudi Arabia but whose mother was an Iraqi with family still
living in that country. Moreover, both of them had friends who were
Jewish girls and the question they had to deal with was the human face
of religions and ideologies and ethnic groups where those differences
are not thousands of miles away, but are represented in the dormitory
or around the cafeteria table or in the classroom, side by side, with
people who are your friends.
And
so forgiveness, compassion, outreach, and the examination of one’s own life are all part of the Christian story we have come
here this morning to celebrate. To be a welcoming community means that
we pass no judgment on anyone’s faithfulness, on anyone’s
questions, on anyone’s desire for amendment of life, or however
life’s circumstances have brought you here.
I believe,
in all of our heart of hearts, this Sunday represents an opportunity
for renewing our relationship with God and being part of God’s
work of reconciliation in our homes, in our churches, in our communities,
in our nation, in our world. Certainly the horrific effects of Hurricane
Katrina impel us to give of ourselves for the wellbeing of others
who have been so devastatingly affected by this truly cataclysmic
natural disaster, to understand that they are our neighbors, our
brothers and sisters still so in need of prayer and action.
In a
letter I sent to all of you this past week, save those who are not
on our mailing list as yet, I talked about stewardship as a way of
life and as a spiritual issue that begins with our relationship to
God. Often, stewardship is thought of as what we pledge to the Church,
but it is much, much more than that. Stewardship is fundamentally an
awareness of God’s presence in our lives and how it is we partner
with God and give of ourselves for God’s work among all God’s
people. And so stewardship is teaching in the Church School. Stewardship
is signing up for an outreach ministry. Stewardship is giving toward
the relief of those affected by Katrina. Stewardship is praying for
peace and for justice. Stewardship is saying “I’m sorry.” And
Stewardship is saying “Thank you.”
And so finally, stewardship is worship, by which we thank God for
how it is God blesses us and keeps us as a community of love and caring.
The word Eucharist means thanksgiving—thanksgiving
that God has given us life in so much abundance, that Jesus calls us
to share equally around his table, his life given for us, thanksgiving
that in the words of The Lord’s Prayer, “God forgives us
our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.” Amen.
