The 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

November 11, 2002

Wisdom 6:12-16 + 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 + Matthew 25:1-13

In the next three weeks we proclaim the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew. This chapter is the end of the public teaching of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel, and it provides his final instruction about discipleship during this time before his return. It becomes an extended meditation on discipleship, and the church leads us in that meditation with some clues from the Old Testament that help with these verses today. Following that clue, the writer of our first reading today gives us the focus for reflecting on this Gospel. We are easily distracted by details of the story, and it is easy to be troubled by those who will not share what they seem to possess. Great sermons have been preached about staying awake, but all of them fall asleep. It is not the foolish ones who serve as model for disciples, but the others, called “Wise.” The oil they do not share may well be something they cannot share, and once we let go of the words literally, we are free to move into the Life this Word of God can give. The Life of a disciple of Jesus is filled with Wisdom, and the author insists that those who seek it will find it.

Biblical “Wisdom” is an attribute of God, and attribute that “Godly” people may possess if they find it. In behavior it shows itself as Prudence, which is the behavior often used to describe these wise “virgins” of the Gospel story. The Prudent are those who seek the best way of doing things. They are those who look ahead, who look around, who live for more than the moment. The point with Prudence is the doing. This is a quality of action, an element of decision, a way of life that is responsible and accountable. Those who lack Prudence are negligent, procrastinate, hesitant and inconsistent. They rationalize and blame and expect others to bail them out like those in the Gospel story whose lamps go out. They are left to live in the darkness. We will never learn from this story whether the foolish found any oil. What we do know is that when they returned, it was too late. Works of love and mercy cannot be shared. They are the results of Wisdom in a Prudent Life.

The Prudent are people of action; wise, accountable, and reasonable. They are disciples of Jesus Christ, and they know what to do with their lives while they wait for his return.

The 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

November 03, 2002

Malachi 1:14-2:10 + 1 Thessalonians 2:7-13 + Matthew 23:1-12

The disputes are at an end. Jesus alone speaks, and now he speaks to his disciples: to you and to me. He is still in the Temple where he was confronted by first one group and then another. These groups: Pharisees, Scribes, Sadducees, are all part of the hierarchy that has too much to lose by his teaching. They have all been dismissed, and now, still in the Temple with all the authority the place itself can give, he speaks to his disciples, then at the end of this chapter he will leave the Temple. This is a kind of final instruction, a wrap up of all that has been said, and the last words of direction to set us on our mission.

As always, the focus and the issues reveal a great deal about the church of St. Matthew which was obviously beginning to struggle with internal disorder from what we would today call: “clericalism.” These words stand as a reminder to the church in every age that pride, privilege, and power are not tools for the building of the Kingdom, but tools of its destruction. There is danger in this text taken and clipped out of context as it is. It is the danger of standing back and thinking that it is all about them: all about those Scribes, Sadducees, and Pharisees, or all about that early church creeping into clericalism with abuses frequent enough that Matthew thought he should raise this warning. Buried in all the words and dimmed by the intensity of the moment, there is in these verses a piece of Matthew theology far more important than warnings about clericalism. There is a powerful reminder about who is the center of all faith and the source of all things: Christ Jesus.

As Matthew says, he is the only teacher, the only Rabbi, and father-like source of life. Verse eight in the passage ought to get the attention of everyone: “As for you….” he says. Suddenly it’s not about Scribes, Sadducees, and Pharisees; it is about us. It is not about titles and clothing it is about humility, the virtue found in the heart of every disciple of Christ Jesus. “The greatest among you will be the one who serves the rest. Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, but whoever humbles himself shall be exalted.” Humility, not power is the only authority worthy of us. Humility is the only virtue that most clearly identifies us with Christ Jesus and gives us a share in the mystery of his power. That identity is the issue here.

Our likeness to Christ Jesus is the measure of our authority, not our power. That likeness comes from concern for the other, service, compassion, and commitment. That likeness comes from friendship with God, from the honest recognition that we are all children of God, made by God, called by God and redeemed by God. There is no one here who is better or worse, good or bad; this is the truth as humility sees it.

It springs out of the embracing love of God and the gift of Spirit that lets us see as God sees, and love as God loves. The true disciple imitates everything about the master. Disciples of Christ Jesus do nothing to call attention to themselves, but rather lose themselves in imitation of their master. They never address this world or any other person with the thought of what they can get for themselves, but only with wonder about what they can give. They have power that reduces every threat and fear to nothing. It is the power that comes from a humble heart, the power of kindness, the power of love, and the power of compassion. It is the power that quiets every rage, and stills all anger.

The humble have that power, for they are close to God, and they see as God sees. They see through the postures of offense and anger, through the costumes of pride and self-serving authority, through the arrogance of sin and presumptions of privilege. They know and they believe that the way of Jesus is the only way to peace, to the unity of the human family, and to a life of joy and holiness. This is what Jesus proposes there in the Temple that day, and it is how he suggests we find our way into the Kingdom.

The Solemnity of All Souls at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

November 2, 2002

Daniel 12:1-3 + Romans 6:3-9 + John 6:37-40

Roman Catholics often visit a church to be alone with God, and in a Protestant church they have a feeling of emptiness. I often look into open churches, and I do not remember a time I have ever seen anyone praying alone in a Protestant Church. It may be a coincidence of my timing; but I am not mistaken about my feelings. There is no sacrament reserved there, and that does affect my feelings about the space. This is not the experience of Byzantine Christians. When they enter a church they do not proceed to their private prayers at a central altar or tabernacle without first going round to visit the icons. They kiss them and light candles before them. They salute them and join in communion with them. The walls of their churches are covered with images of patriarch and prophets, preachers and teachers. They rub shoulders with local saints and national martyrs. Their family histories are filled with songs and hymns and legends to tell again and again in every generation, for in telling them, they recall the acts and blessings of God.

That is what we do here on this Feast of All Souls. Devotion to the saints and to the dead are really the same thing; the sense of unity with a common past that is so strong in the worship of the East. Those we remember today do not cease to exist because we cannot see them or know their presence through our senses. They live as always, but without this frame of flesh and blood with which they approached and held correspondence with us. The life they have now is present, not future, past, nor distant. It is not above the sky, it is not beyond the grave, it is now and here; the Kingdom of God among us.

John Henry Newman in a sermon left behind these thoughts to make sense of this day. “We are looking here for the coming of the day of God, when all this outward world, fair though it be, shall perish; when the heavens shall be burnt, and the earth melt away. We can bear the loss, for we know it will be but the removing of a veil. We know that to remove the world that is seen will be the manifestation of the world that is not seen. We know that what we see is like a screen that hides from us God and Christ, and the angels and the saints.”

We sit today in their presence. They surround us and bear us up as they always have and always will. We share with them a common beginning in mind and in the heart of God; and we shall share with them a common eternity in the arms of that God who calls us all his own.

The Solemnity of All Saints at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

November 1, 2002

Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14 + 1 John 3:1-3 + Matthew 5:1-12

It is Matthew who speaks to us today with his unique vision of the Kingdom of God shaped by the adversity his church experiences historically. Later, when another generation has passed and a wider experience of the community’s life allows, there is different focus to the words of Jesus we proclaim today. It even changes location in Luke. The mountain is leveled, and the prophetic parallel with Moses is no longer important in the Lukan vision of life for the citizens of the Kingdom and those who would be one with Christ Jesus.

The location from which these words of Jesus were spoken is the least of the differences however. Matthew’s additions and shift in emphasis says far more. Blest are you poor, the reign of God is yours, says Luke. Blessed are the poor in spirit, says Matthew. Blessed are you who hunger, you shall be filled, says Luke. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, says Matthew. A shift from the passive to the active is found in Matthew. He urges activism. Hunger and thirst become verbs. Matthew speaks of action: Don’t just be hungry – thirst for it – go after it, seek it! There is an ethical side of Matthew’s proclamation of these words of Jesus that urges the Blessed into action for the sake of the Kingdom of God. For these blessed, the kingdom of God is not just something they inherit because they are there and identified by the one who passes on the reward. Being blessed is a sign of God-given status not an affirmation of character. The Blessed for Matthew are not simply those who are hungry and wait without complaint; but rather they are the ones who, in a sense, chose to fast and discipline themselves for the sake of bringing justice for those who have no choice but be hungry.

This is what we call to mind on All Saints day; not just those who have been found blessed by reason of their place in time and the conditions of their lives, but those who take action for the sake of others, those who hunger, thirst, mourn, show mercy and make peace. This too is holiness, and for those have choices in life like you and me, the call to holiness is a call to action and service. If persecution leads one to reward, our persecution will have to come from what we have done not from the color of ethnic origins, economic condition, sexuality, and nationality. We will have to be persecuted for what we have done. We are not going to ride or slide into the Kingdom of God because of our helplessness. We will have to work our way there, and Matthew gives us the tools and points the way.

The 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

October 27, 2002

Exodus 22:20-26 + 1 Thessalonians 1:5-10 + Matthew 22:34-40

We must consider Mark’s earlier use of this story to understand what Matthew may be doing with it. Matthew changes the questioner, because in Mark’s version, it is a scribe who asks the question and is impressed with the response. In Matthew there is no room for this friendly question and the compliments that arise from the conversation. In Matthew, a question asked earlier has dismissed the Sadducees, and these Pharisees have, in a sense, rolled up their sleeves and said: “We’re the “pros” at this. Let’s go after him.” As a contest of wits, it’s a draw. Jesus does not answer the question. They ask for one commandment, he gives them two.

In the end, what we inherit here and what we proclaim today is not about them, Pharisees, Sadducees, Scribes, or Jesus. It is about us, and it is about what is asked of us.

The story of this encounter reveals just how theology and ethics have integrated. When the Jesus of Matthew’s Gospel says that Love of God and Love of Neighbor are “like”, he reveals how much the relationship with God (call it “theology”) and the relationship with neighbor (call it “ethics”) have in common. The relationship of the divine creator and created is the stuff of theology, while the relationships between the created is the stuff of ethics. For followers of Jesus, these two relationships integrate into a balanced and focused way of life that is profoundly spiritual and consistently ethical as a consequence of their integration. The inter-relationship of these two commandments is an issue here. To enter into the mind of Jesus on this matter, think for a moment of how he treated the Sabbath Law. Remember how he insisted that human need took precedence over the legal requirement. That is the integration to be found in followers of Jesus. He did not come to replace the law, but to fulfill the law – a fulfillment to be found in the ethical behavior of his followers in their relationship to one another. Love for neighbor teaches us how to love God. Then Jesus goes a step further and radicalizes this love of neighbor to include enemies. It only makes sense to those whose love for God empowers them to imitate the generous, inclusive love God has for all creation.

But the story of this encounter also raises the question of commandments. If a commandment is the requirement or the prohibition of some kind of behavior, then we have to wonder if “love” can really be commanded. At this point, we must deal with the word that carries the idea. “L.O.V.E. in English is not a good tool to communicate what the Sacred Scriptures are revealing as God’s Will or God’s Command. That four letter word is simply inadequate. What is asked of us by God’s command has nothing to do with warm feelings either of gratitude toward God or of affection for others. In fact, the Biblical concept of Love bears little resemblance to romance, affection, and warm feelings of intimacy. It looks more bull-headedness, stubbornness, and unwavering commitment. It isn’t nearly as much fun, and when the Bible speaks of love, rather than violins playing, drums should be pounding.

Commitment, unwavering, immovable, unbending, teeth gritting, jaw set commitment is what this is all about. Nothing else, and commitment can be commanded. And so, commitment to God as a commandment means there will not be any other one, and no created thing nor any created person will take that God’s place before us. Such commitment is observed in obedient behavior and a determined effort to fulfill the will of God, as it is known. Commitment to neighbor, says Jesus, has nothing to do with liking the neighbor, nor with warm and affection feelings. For followers of Jesus Christ, love of neighbor means imitating God – which translated into human behavior means taking the neighbor’s needs seriously. It means seeing the needs of the neighbor as though they were one’s own. Where there is need for Justice, it is not someone else’ responsibility. Where there is hunger, homelessness, loneliness, or any other need, it becomes my need because that is how God sees it.

It is the risen Christ who speaks in this room today revealing as always what God asks of us. It is commitment. It is single hearted, pure intentioned loyalty. When commitment is given without condition, every other relationship is affected. What God takes seriously, we take seriously. What God plans, we plan. What God does, we do: from giving to forgiving, from finding to seeking, from suffering to dying, and from binding up to setting free.

There is reason to rejoice here today and throughout this week because a commandment is given – not as a burden or as a way to limit or restrain us, but to set us free to be ourselves in the image of our creator and to love without limit, without condition, and without end. That is the essence of the covenant we share and renew at this altar: bound to God and to each other we are here in holy communion.

The 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

October 13, 2002

Isaiah 25:6-10 + Philippians 4:1-9 + Matthew 22:1-14

For Jesus it was a parable that left people wondering and asking questions of themselves. He jump-started their imaginations, and he left those who listened with questions about how the Kingdom of God might be like that for them. For Matthew it was an allegory that interpreted their own history in light of their relationship to God and what was revealed to them. For us it could be either, but if we choose to take the allegory, we run the risk of interpreting it to justify ourselves leaving things as they are.

The parable Jesus told probably ended with the banquet hall being filled. The scholars propose that Matthew added the visit of the King to the banquet hall and his inspection of the guests. Matthew was concerned with things eschatological – anticipating the end of time. So our best option is to take this a parable and include Matthew’s conclusion and have our imaginations stirred up and raise a few questions about the Kingdom of God might be like that for us.

The last verse is the point at which our wonder begins: “Many are called. Few are chosen.” In the context of the story, it begins to suggest that none of us can hide in the group, slide in on the coat tails of others, or escape some accounting for our own stewardship when the time comes for the King to enter the banquet to which we have been invited. This is not a saying intended to forecast the proportion of the saved to the lost, nor frighten us with the thought that the odds are against us, but simply encourage vigorous efforts to live in accord with the teaching of Jesus. The garment we put on is Christ Himself: clothed in mercy and compassion, kindness, love, and forgiveness. It is garment of generosity and gratitude that never allows the wearer to forget where they are and where they came from.

The call of God is not something we respond to once and then sit secure and confident until it’s all over. Each of us hears the call every day in the unique events that mark our individual lives, and the parable invites us to take a look at how we are dressed — at how we have put on Christ. Jesus knew that everything he had came from the Father. Expressing that truth was the heart of his prayer and the motive of his life. It made him servant and it made him obedient. It made him grateful and it made him faithful.

It’s autumn now. The days are growing darker; the last of the harvest is in the barns. The north winds and early nights speak to something deep within us about change and readiness for what is to come. The parable today leaves us to wonder about what we have put on for this feast of God’s Kingdom, and how we shall look on the Day of the Lord. There is some higher calling revealed in this Gospel. Just being here, taking up space in this church is not enough. Something more is required of those who come, and today is as good a day as any to ask what it might be.

The 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

October 6, 2002

Isaiah 5:1-7 + Philippians 4:6-9 + Matthew 21:33-43

Back in the vineyard, a parable invites us to wonder about something, and I want suggest that its focus is God. The easy way with this parable is be threatened by the behavior of the tenants so that we do not act like them, or to see an image of the Passion of Christ in the owner’s Son. All of these work at one level or another, but if we stay with our level and raise the issue of what this parable says about God, something different happens. We are then left to wonder – to wonder about God, and that’s a good place to be today.

There is a historical way of looking at this parable that excuses the behavior of the tenants. If we knew anything about their condition and the customs of the time, their revolt might be justifiable. There is another level that gives us reason to consider this son and his relationship both with the father and with the tenants. Finally there is the level that leads us to realize that the one constant in all levels and in every episode of this story is the landowner.

If we stay at our level of this parable, we can maintain our focus on the landowner and do some serious wondering at which point the living Word of God brings us to life. It is a story about being entrusted with a role in the vineyard by God. It leaves us to wonder what happens when those entrusted with something try to possess it and keep it as if it was their own. The gift turns to greed, and service in the vineyard to violence. Something is wrong here, and we need to wonder about it.

If you read very carefully this story of the heartbreaking betrayal of God and of terrible violence toward his slaves and his son, there is no suggestion that God is violent nor that God responds violently. That idea comes from the betrayers themselves. They are the ones who suggest that God will be angry and violent, not Jesus nor Matthew. So full of their own violence, so permeated in mind and heart are they, that they cannot imagine a God who is any different from them. They suggest the ending to this story, and Jesus never says it’s the right ending – he simply talks about rejected stones and insists that those who produce fruit in the vineyard will come into the Kingdom of God. So as always, wondering about God leads us to understand something about ourselves.

This is a parable that says a great deal and raises a lot of questions in a violent nation that looks to violence as a greed driven solution; to a culture so permeated with violence that it no longer can conceive of any other option to conflict; and to a people who continue to shape the image of God in their own likeness. It is a parable that gives wonder to anyone who has forgotten their role in the vineyard and has begun to think of possessions as their own and consider ways of making it so. The persistence and the eventual victory of God’s plan is clearly announced by this parable with the hope that their hearts of stone will be turned into the cornerstone; something that would be wonderful to behold and to celebrate. We are left to wonder when and how it shall come to pass, and what we should be doing in this vineyard to produce this fruit.

The 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

September 29, 2002

Ezekiel 18:25-28 +Philippians 2:1-11+ Matthew 21:28-32

The entry to Jerusalem is complete. The palms are cleaned up. The Hosannas have echoed away. Jesus has made a mess in the Temple, and the authorities are demanding to know who he thinks he is. Tension is building that will eventually explode in a hostile confrontation. The vineyard is the focus of conversation. We heard it last week and again this week, and we shall hear of it again next week before we go to a wedding. All are full of hard sayings to those authorities who are closed to any action of God they cannot control.

This parable is a strange one, because neither of the two options presented are perfect. There are always three levels to the parables we proclaim: the original level at which the historical Jesus is the teaching Rabbi at a certain time in a particular place. The second level is where we find the evangelist; in this case Matthew retelling the parable at another time to a totally different audience. We are the third level: another time, a different place, and different audience.

Jesus addresses those confrontational Pharisees who remain closed to his ministry and the slightest change in the way God may be working. Matthew addresses the Jewish Christians struggling for their identity in the face of the Jewish communities emerging from the chaos of the Temple’s destruction. Today the parable is proclaimed in Norman, Oklahoma and everywhere else in the world this autumn day by a church stunned by its own sins against justice, children, and its own servants.

We have every reason to look at this family and wonder if the father might not have another son or two. If parables are supposed to move us to wonder, in this age we might then wonder if there could not be another option or two. Neither of these two sons is an example of what we want to be, and even though Matthew uses the parable as a story of conversion’s power when it comes to the work of the vineyard, many of us listen to this story from a much deeper spiritual level and don’t care to identify with either of them. Beside that, this Father, God, has plenty of children who say “No” and mean “No.” Another issue of wonder is how we are we to live with them?

The best option is not even offered, but perhaps we ought to wonder about it, and the wonder stirred by this parable might lead us there. There is the option of saying, “Yes”. It is, in the end, a parable about promise and performance; about words and deeds giving us cause to wonder about perfection and what it might look like for us who seek to do the Father’s Will.

True disciples are distinguished from false disciples by what they do, not by what they say. All the power in this world and the next means nothing; knowing all correct theology and making oneself look pious and perfectly orthodox means nothing. Doing the Will of God is what brings in the harvest from this vineyard. Our integrity as disciples of Jesus and as a church has to do with what we do when no one is looking. That is my favorite definition of integrity. It means we have integrated what we say with what we do, and the two have finally become the same. It has nothing to do with who is watching or what anyone is going to think. It has to do with backing up what we say with what we do, and that is the style of the third son we do not meet in this parable, but are left to wonder about. The third son – who says yes, means yes, and goes out to do his best. It’s a great ideal – integrity of this sort. My own experience is that only God pulls it off perfectly. God’s Words are Deeds. God speaks and something happens. Only God perfectly achieves this unity of word and action, or action that becomes one word: Love. But the children of this God strive to achieve this perfection, and this is the offer of this parable, that like the others says as much about God as about anything else.

Our prayer today springs from this parable and it is a prayer that we shall be worthy of the work to which we are called, that we shall become more and more a people of integrity, and open ourselves to the possibility that God can work and is working in ways we do not understand, and with people whose presence in this vineyard may surprise us.

The 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

September 22, 2002

Isaiah 55:6-9 + Philippians 1:20-27 + Matthew 20:1-16

“The Kingdom of heaven is like a landowner…..that is the point of this parable, a landowner. It has nothing to do with wages, work, hours, or justice. It has to do with the landowner – God. It tells us about God, and in so doing, we find out something about ourselves. It does not explain divine justice, but stirs us to wonder about how God acts toward us. Even adjusted to the time and place in history from which it comes, the story makes no sense. After all, what employer who was going to do what this one did would have the ones who worked the longest hang around to be paid last and see what was going on? He would have paid them first and had them out of there so they would not see what those who came last received. This behavior makes no sense unless you are Matthew’s Jesus and want to stop people in their tracks and leave them wondering.

Wonder, we should, at this story of God’s care for us. The trouble is, we don’t wonder. We are too busy looking around at everyone else. Instead of being focused on God, and living in that provident, loving friendship, we are comparing and competing, day in and day out. Instead of living with our gaze on the source of all that we have, we are looking to see who got what, how much, and when. Echoes of our childhood are heard in our whining. “It’s not fair! He got a bigger piece!” “How come he gets to stay up longer than me?” Sometimes the laments are unspoken, but heard nonetheless. The rejection comes from a job we wanted. Someone we know gets more financial aid for school, and we need it more. Someone else gets a raise, and their work isn’t as good as ours……

Toxic thoughts that get internalized and lead to depression and anger. A parable about God gives us reason to think about ourselves. A parable about God calls into question the ideology of entitlement and uncovers our self-centered, self-serving, competitive vision of things. But the Kingdom of Heaven is like a landowner, it says. And the landowner is the one we should leave here thinking of. If the parable is true, it leaves us humbled, embarrassed by our whining, and stunned once again by grace. Few of us have earned a full day’s wage; and I suspect that those who have would think they had not done enough.

The question asked in the parable is probably one being asked again today: “Why are you standing around all day idol?” It’s a loaded question that invites us to take a long look at what we do all day. When you think about how far we still have to go to establish the Kingdom of God; we know there is work to do in the vineyard. The work of Justice, the work of Peace, the work of Forgiveness, the Work of Healing and Reconciliation. Probably if we were not so worried about what everyone else has, concentrated a little more on what we do have and what we can do with it because of the one who gave it and called us to use it, there would be a lot less anger, resentment, and jealousy spoiling our days in the vineyard. The results of those days would certainly be more productive. Then when we saw God’s gifts lavished on others we could rejoice with them and for them.

In moments of clarity and honesty, we ought to breathe a sigh of relief, for when we look honestly at how we often think and behave, and then remember that God’s thoughts are not our thoughts and God’s ways are not our ways, it’s probably a good thing! This Parable is about God and about us. It is not about anyone else. It is about the awe we experience when we think of how God cares for us, and it is about our work in the vineyard.

The 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time at St Mark the Evangelist Church in Norman, OK

September 15, 2002

Sirach 27:30-28:7 + Romans 14:7-9 + Matthew 18:21-35

The final verses of Matthew’s “Discourse on the Life of the Church” are the sum and substance of it all

for those who would count themselves among the saved, the faithful, and the loved. From what has just been said, and we heard it last week and the week before, we are not to be soft on sin, and there is no reason to think that “mercy” means looking the other way or that it proposes some kind of “denial” in the face of evil. On the contrary. The church has been given a step-by-step instruction on what to do and how to respond.

The final verses here before Jesus turns his face toward Jerusalem address what happens when the sin has been named, and the sinner has been identified. These verses serve as a corrective against a too zealous application of the earlier verses. They serve as check against continuing the wrongdoing by repeating the offence in a spirit of revenge or by an effort to “get even.” Pay attention to the parable. The one forgiven his debt turns right around and does what he has been forgiven for doing. He ends up trading places with the other man! This Gospel is about revenge and the foolishness of calling it “justice.” This Gospel insists that for those who would be “church” for those who would be one with Jesus forgiveness is about the future, not the past. There is no future if the sin is repeated. If someone smacks you in the face and your smack them back, there is no future without the offence. It has just continued. If someone takes a life, and we take one in punishment, we’ve made no progress toward ending the sin.

Forgiveness is about ending the sin, stopping the evil, having a future. This forgiveness Jesus speaks of is a process, not a feeling. To be a forgiver does not always mean that we shall feel good. It means we make a choice to stop the evil in its tracks and not become part of its story. It means we chose to be guided by another force and use another power. As is clear from the earlier verses, forgiveness in the Christian heart is part of conversion. It goes on and on and it has more to do with what we are becoming than what we have been. The reconciliation to which we are called has as much to do with inner peace as it does with external unity. At its most basic level, forgiveness occurs within the heart and mind of the one who was wronged. This level of forgiveness involves replacing thoughts of anger and revenge with a simple desire for the other’s well-being. That is where forgiveness begins. Genuine forgiveness is a movement of grace that takes us beyond the limits of human justice.

Doing the work of forgiveness is an ongoing process we repeat seventy-seven times. It requires courage, understanding, and wisdom: “Gifts of the Spirit” for which we ought to pray. This would be a good time for that prayer, and Matthew suggests it would be a good time to begin – not with the sentimental toleration of hurtful behavior, not with ignoring offence too often and too quickly, but with looking within ourselves to honestly inquire about our own participation or contribution to the conflict, surrendering the fantasy of our own perfection, and humbly embracing the truth that we are all made from the same clay.

Forgiveness then is about the future. It creates for us a reason to hope. It provides for us a taste of the Kingdom. It secures for us a measure of peace and gives us reason to rejoice.