You are no doubt familiar with the name Simon Wiesenthal,
the famous Nazi hunter. Wiesenthal was a prisoner in a
concentration camp in Poland. One day he was assigned to clean
out rubbish from a barn the Germans had improvised into a
hospital for wounded soldiers. Toward evening a nurse took
Wiesenthal by the hand and led him to a young SS trooper, his
face bandaged with filthy rags, eyes tucked behind the gauze. He
was perhaps 21 years old. He grabbed Wiesenthal's hand and held
on for dear life. He said that he had to talk to a Jew; he could
not die before he had confessed the sins he had committed against
helpless Jews, and he had to be forgiven by a Jew before he died.
So he told Wiesenthal the horrible tale of how his battalion had
gunned down Jews, parents and children who were trying to escape
from a house set afire by the SS troopers.
Wiesenthal listened to the dying man's tale, first the story
of his innocent youth, and then of his participation in any
number of foul deeds in the service of Hitler. At the end,
Wiesenthal jerked his hand away and walked out of the barn. No
word was spoken, no forgiveness was offered. Wiesenthal would
not, could not, forgive. But he was not sure he did right.
He ended his story, The Sunflower(1), with a question - "What
would you have done?" Thirty-two eminent persons, mostly Jewish,
contributed their answers to his hard question. Most said
Wiesenthal was right - he should not have forgiven the SS
trooper; it would not have been fair. Why should a man who
willfully participated in doing monumental evil expect a quick
word of forgiveness on his deathbed? What right had Wiesenthal
to forgive the man for the crimes he had committed against other
Jews? If Wiesenthal forgave the soldier, he would be saying that
the Holocaust was not so evil. "Let the SS trooper go to hell,"
said one respondent.
What would you have answered? Should Wiesenthal have
forgiven the young man? Think about it as we hear our lesson
(which just happens to be about forgiveness).
Matthew 18:21-35
A fellow went to the hospital to visit his partner who had
been taken strangely ill and was near death. Suddenly the dying
man began to speak. "John," he said, "before I go I have got to
confess some things and get your forgiveness. I want you to know
that I robbed the firm of $100,000 several years ago. I sold our
secret formula to our competition, and John, I am the one who
supplied your wife with the evidence that got her the divorce and
cost you a small fortune. Will you forgive me?"
John murmured, "That's okay, old man. I am the one who gave
you the poison." Seventy times seven.
In a perverse and extreme way, the partner reflects modern
attitudes toward forgiveness. We live in a balance-sheet world
that demands justice - bomb Afghanistan after September 11th.
Society counsels, "Don't get mad; get even." When things do not
go our way, we are advised to "Sue their socks off!" Despite
growing up with advice like "Forgive and forget" or being
reminded that "To err is human, to forgive divine" and our
regular "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors," we do
not find much forgiveness out there. Children cannot forgive
their parents and parents cannot forgive their children. I know
wives who cannot forgive their husbands and husbands who cannot
forgive their wives. Arabs have difficulty forgiving Jews; and
Jews, Arabs. There is not much forgiveness anywhere.
That is nothing new though. Two-thousand years ago the
question was posed, "Lord, how often am I to forgive...seven
times?" Peter's question to Jesus was a good one (and his offer
more than generous - after all, if someone wrongs you over and
over and over again, you will be inclined to call time out before
the seventh go-round). It was Rabbinic teaching that a man must
forgive his brother three times. As one Rabbi wrote, "If a man
commits an offense once, they forgive; if he commits an offense a
second time, they forgive him; if he commits an offense a third
time, they forgive him; the fourth time they do not forgive."(2) I
am sure Peter thought that he was being incredibly charitable,
for he takes the Rabbinic teaching, doubles it, adds one for good
measure, and suggests (with eager self-satisfaction, no doubt)
that it will be enough if he forgives seven times. Peter thought
he would be warmly commended, I suspect, but Jesus' answer was
that the Christian must forgive, depending on your translation
SEVENTY-seven times...or SEVENTY TIMES seven. Hmmm...490? But
this is celestial arithmetic. Jesus meant 70 x 7 x 77 x 70 x 7 x
77...on to infinity...forgiveness with no limit at all.
The Lord then told the story of the servant forgiven a
humongous debt who went out and dealt mercilessly with a fellow
servant who owed him a tiny bit - 1/600,000th of the original
amount. No forgiveness here - Debtors' Prison. The king heard
about what happened, called the servant in and had HIM imprisoned
because he was not willing to show the same forgiveness he
himself had been shown. Jesus' conclusion was, "So my heavenly
Father will also do to everyone of you, if you do not forgive
your brother or sister from your heart." Scary.
As you Bible scholars know, there are several places in
scripture that indicate a quid pro quo concerning forgiveness -
if we don't give it, we won't get it. I know the Lord would not
intend for us to build a theology on that emphasis - too much
else in the Bible makes plain that God's forgiveness of our sin
comes because of what Christ did, not on what we do or fail to
do. But the harshness of the story's ending has its inescapable
truth - the one who fails to forgive ends up in a prison of his
own making, now unable to experience forgiveness for himself.
Why do you suppose Jesus makes such a big deal about a
little thing like forgiveness? I believe the answer is that real
forgiveness is NOT a little thing - in fact, it is one of the
most powerful forces in the universe. It is the only thing in
this world that actually has the power to change the past.
Think about it. Forgiveness is a decision about how to deal
with what supposedly is beyond our reach - history - the past.
One choice we can make about wrongs we have suffered is to seek
revenge: poison your partner..."Don't get mad, get even"..."Sue
their socks off." The idea behind those options is misconceived
justice, that there is a balance owed to you, and somehow you
will make the wrongdoer pay. To choose forgiveness is to give up
that balance-sheet view. By letting go of our sense of being
wronged, we can also let go of bitterness and resentment and open
ourselves to much more healthy and wholesome emotions. We take
control of how we feel about the past.
Lew Smedes is a teacher of Theology and Ethics. He
describes three stages in every act of forgiveness - suffering,
spiritual surgery, and starting over.(3) The first stage,
suffering, creates the conditions that require forgiveness. At
the second stage, we do the essential business of forgiveness -
the forgiver performs spiritual surgery in his or her own memory.
We complete the action at the third stage when the forgiveness
starts a new relationship with the forgiven person.
Take them one at a time. First, suffering. One of the
hardest things about forgiveness is simply acknowledging the pain
we have experienced. Someone has written that the first step in
forgiveness is "swallowing your pride, admitting that you are
hurt, admitting that someone or something got to you, admitting
that you were not as impervious to rudeness, thoughtlessness,
criticism, rejection, neglect, or ingratitude as you thought you
were. And it means admitting that you are unable to snap out of
it as quickly as those around you would like."(4) No one really
forgives (or needs to) unless he or she has been hurt.
The second stage of forgiving involves your inner response
to the one who wronged you. Here you perform what Dr. Smedes
calls spiritual surgery within your own memory - you slice away
the wrong from the person who did it. You disengage that person
from the hurtful act. You recreate him. At one moment you
identify him forever as the one who did you wrong - the next
moment you change that identity. He is remade in your memory.
God does it this way too. The Bible says God separates us
from our sin "as far as the east is from the west." God releases
us from sin as a mother washes dirt from a child's face. No
longer are we a filthy ragamuffin, but now a spotless little
angel dressed in our spiritual best.
Sometimes this spiritual surgery stage is as far as we can
go. Sometimes we need to forgive people who are dead and gone.
Sometimes we need to forgive people who do not want our
forgiveness. Sometimes our forgiving has to end with what
happens inside our own heart and mind.
The third stage of forgiveness is starting over...when
possible. The miracle of forgiveness is completed when two
alienated people begin again. That does not mean to say that we
understand what happened. Loose ends may well remain untied.
Nasty questions may still be unanswered. The future is
uncertain, as always. We could easily have more hurts and more
forgiving ahead of us. But we start over where we are.
Three steps - suffering, spiritual surgery, starting over.
Forgiveness is not easy. In fact, it can be very costly. Ask
Jesus. Forgiveness cost Christ his blood as the nails pierced
His hands, the spear His side. Forgiveness cost Christ
incredible pain as for six hours he hung suspended between earth
and sky. Forgiveness cost Christ his life as He was finally laid
in a borrowed tomb. But the risk is one about which we have no
choice, not if we take our Christianity seriously.
Do you recall the way Jesus began the story He told in our
lesson? He has just finished giving his 70 x 7 (or 77)
instruction when He says, "For this reason the kingdom of heaven
may be compared to a king who... etc., etc., etc." His message
is we will genuinely be able to experience God's rule in our
lives when, and only when, we are willing to be as forgiving as
God, no matter what the cost.
Are there people in your life who need your forgiveness?
What are you willing to do about it? Make a phone call? Write
a letter? Drop by for a visit? In our Creed we say "I believe
in the forgiveness of sins," and that forgiveness is not simply
limited to the marvelous grace GOD shows to you and me. If we
genuinely believe in the forgiveness of sins, we will make that
forgiveness real to those who have sinned against us.
As 9/11 approached last week, I read of some comments from
Lisa Beamer. Lisa says she may some day be able to forgive the
hijackers who were responsible for the deaths of her husband,
Todd, and the 39 other passengers and crew members who lost their
lives aboard United Airlines Flight 93. She says she works at
keeping debilitating emotions like resentment to a minimum as she
strives to create a normal home life for her three small
children.
"Forgiveness is a process," she says. "It's not something
where all of a sudden you wake up one day and say: 'OK, I forgive
them.' You need time. You need perspective and growth. It's
too early to say definitively that I have forgiven them. But
it's something that over the course of time I feel confident will
be resolved," she added. "I can say I don't hold a lot of
bitterness or anger. Those things would be detrimental to me and
my family, and the terrorists have certainly taken enough from
us. I'm not going to let them take any more."(5)
Good for you, Lisa. Good for you.
What about Simon Wiesenthal and that young trooper? Should
Wiesenthal have forgiven him? I do not think he could have.
After all, true forgiveness is only available from the party that
has been injured. Even the king in Jesus' parable was only able
to forgive the debt owed to HIM. Lisa Beamer WAS personally hurt
in the death of her husband; Simon Wiesenthal had NOT been
personally injured by the young soldier. The only ones who could
have offered forgiveness to that boy were the ones he murdered
and the God whose law was so viciously broken. Simon Wiesenthal
would have turned the miracle of genuine forgiveness into some
cheap indulgence by pretending to forgive someone who had never
directly hurt him.
Forgiveness is power. The trooper knew that. Forgiveness
is the power to renew and be renewed, to clean and feel cleansed.
Forgiveness is the power to restore to favor and wholeness. It
is not a negative power at all, but a positive power - in fact,
the most positive power in all the world. Nothing else can
rebuild a life the way forgiveness can. Nothing else can so
change an individual the way forgiveness can. Nothing else can
change the relationship between nations the way forgiveness can.
When you pull it off, you do the one thing, the only thing, that
has the power to change the past. The grace to do it is from
God. The decision to do it is our own.
Amen!
1. Shocken, 1976
2. Quoted by William Barclay, The Gospel of Matthew, Vol. II, Daily Study Bible Series,
(Philadelphia: Westminster, 1975), p.193
3. Lewis Smedes, "Forgiving: The Power to Change the Past," Christianity Today, 1/7/83, pp.
22-26
4. Doris Donnelly, Putting Forgiveness into Practice, quoted by Kenneth Gibble, "She Washed
Jesus' Feet," The Christian Ministry, Sept.-Oct., 1990, p. 29
5. Reuters News Service, 9/4/02
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