Monday, February 20, 2006

The Seventh Sunday in Epiphany: Living a life of Forgiveness

The Rev. Canon Anne E. Kitch
Preached at Trinity Church, Bethlehem
February 19, 2006
Mark 2:1-12

Living a life of Forgiveness

It begins with upheaval. Perhaps forgiveness is always like that, and healing too. Perhaps they are processes that cannot begin without an upheaval, a disruption in the status quo, or an undoing of what seems right and proper. In this case, it begins with the roof caving in: literally.

Jesus had been out and about, doing the savior/Son of God thing. You know, your basic healings, exorcisms, preaching tour. But then he returns home and word gets out that wonder boy is back in town. A crowd gathers, so that there is not room for one more person. There is not even standing room left in front of the house. I wonder what they were all there for? We are told that Jesus was speaking the word to them. But is that why they came? Some of them may have been seekers, looking for a rabbi or a spiritual uplift. I suspect some of them came with their hurts because they had heard he was a great healer. But surely some of them were there just because they were curious and some because they wanted to be where the action was, they wanted to be close to the miracle worker. So there they all are, the teacher, the crowds, the noise, and then some people come carrying a paralyzed man.

They can’t get anywhere near Jesus, but clearly that is what they want to do. They are very determined, these friends. So they climb up onto the roof, manage to dig their way through clay and thatch, and lower the mat on which the paralytic lay. Just think about this: this is no small feat and it takes more than a moment to accomplish. Jesus is talking, with people sitting all around him when debris starts falling followed by commotion and confusion. Surely shouts of protest, what do you think you are doing? And with a great upheaval the paralyzed man lies before Jesus. Jesus stops speaking. He looks at the four friends and sees the faith that led them to such an extreme effort to get their friend into his presence. He says to the man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”

I imagine a moment of stunned silence. Who said anything about seeking forgiveness? Surely what the friends want, what the man wants, is clear. They want healing. Why else would they go to such an extreme and ridiculous measure to get their friend to Jesus? Forgiveness? What is there to forgive? Clearly this man has done Jesus no wrong. He may be a limited human being, and thus sinful, but who is this Jesus to forgive all of this man’s sins? If you hurt me, I can forgive you. But is it for me to forgive you if you hurt your friend or your child or your neighbor? In the silence, some of the same questions arise in the hearts of the folks sitting there around Jesus. What did he say? Why is he saying that? What does this mean? Forgive sins? Why only God can do that! Who does he think he is! Into the silence Jesus speaks, “Why do you raise such questions in your hearts? Which is easier? To say to the paralytic your sins are forgiven or to say stand up and take your mat and walk?

Well now there’s a question. Because the fact is, they are both easy to say. Anyone could say them.* But making them true? That would be a miracle. And here’s the point. How do those bystanders know that the man’s sins have been forgiven? They don’t--either they believe Jesus or they don’t. But if a paralyzed man stands up and walks, that healing is pretty easy to authenticate. If Jesus can perform this miracle of healing, he must also be right about the forgiveness. So, Jesus says, “Well, just so you know that the Son of Man has the authority on earth to forgive sins, “ he turns to the paralytic, “I say to you stand, uptake your mat, and go home.” The man stands up, takes his mat and walks out in front of them all, healed and forgiven.

Healed and forgiven. Or in this case, forgiven, then healed. Which is the greater miracle? And when it comes to forgiveness, is the miracle that the incarnate God can forgive our sins or that the forgiveness is made real? Jesus didn’t say, “I forgive you.” He said, “Your sins are forgiven.” And in calling the man to rise and walk, Jesus made the possibility of forgiveness real. I think perhaps the real miracle for us would be accepting God’s forgiveness that is already at work.

It’s a good thing that forgiveness is God’s job, because I don’t really believe we are very good at it. When have you really forgiven someone so that you no longer remember their transgression? How good are you at receiving forgiveness? The forgiveness we practice with one another (and perhaps even with God) takes many forms. Here is a few I could think of. There are the times we refuse to forgive, holding on to the hurt and clutching it as if it were a life raft (although this doesn’t save us at all). Writer Anne Lamott says that refusing to forgive is like drinking rat poison and expecting the rat to die.** Then there are times when we seem to hang out in some kind of forgiveness limbo, not actively refusing to forgive but not able to get past the hurt. And there are times when forgives seems to creep up on us. It comes with time; one day we suddenly notice it is there. And there are times when dramatic upheaval breaks open our hearts and the forgiveness just pours in, over, and out of us.

I don’t know how to make this happen. As I said, I am grateful that forgiveness is God’s business, because I am not very good at it. Thank God, God is. God’s forgiveness is real. God’s forgiveness is there, offered for us. But in order for it to work in our lives, in order for us to get up and walk after the paralyzing effects of sin, we need to accept the forgiveness. We need to know it is real. Closed hands and hearts not only can’t offer forgiveness, they can’t accept forgiveness either.

Thousands of years ago, the prophet Isaiah proclaimed this truth about God. “I, I am He. I am the one who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake and I will not remember your sins.” (Isaiah 43:25) God cannot not forgive. For God’s own sake, God forgives us. God’s forgiveness is always active. It is not a matter of whether we deserve it; it is a matter of a relationship forged out of love. God loved us into being and for the sake of that love God forgives. Whether we walk in God’s love or are crippled by guilt is a matter of our own action.

Choosing to engage in a life of forgiveness, a life when we acknowledge both our need to forgive and our need to be forgiven, often begins with upheaval or a disruption in the status quo or an undoing of what seems right and proper. A life of forgiveness, given and received, is often accompanied by falling debris as we dig through the obstacles that keep us from Christ. A life of forgiveness, given and received, begins with and encounter with God and God’s love made real. Sometimes it begins with friends who are willing to get us there. Sometimes we are called to be those friends who stop at nothing to make Gods’ love known. A life of forgiveness, given and received is what we are called to as Christians. Open your hands and your hearts and allow God’s forgiveness to pour in to you, over you and flow out of you.

* Gretchen Pritchard, A Note to Parents, The Sunday Paper Junior, Year B 7th Sunday after Epiphany, The Sunday Paper, New Haven CT, 1999.

**Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith, Pantheon Books, NY 1999, p. 134