Posts Tagged ‘Forgiveness’
Why Forgive? – Br. David Vryhof
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Br. David Vryhof
It’s no wonder that Jesus made such a big deal of forgiveness in his teachings and in his parables. Forgiveness is essential to healthy human relationships. The French Jesuit and theologian, François Varillon, once said, “People cannot live together unless they forgive each other just for being who they are.” We all need to forgive and be forgiven, over and over again, if our life together is to be life-giving, and if we are to be the agents of healing and reconciliation in the world that Christ calls us to be.
Sometimes it’s easy to forgive. We find no difficulty in setting aside the incident and moving on. But at other times we may find it extremely difficult to forgive the one who has hurt us. We may believe that we should forgive; we may even want to forgive. But we recognize that our heart is so full of anger and pain that we cannot yet say, “I forgive you,” and mean it. A declaration of forgiveness at this point would be dishonest and premature. In circumstances like these, we can at least set ourselves on a path towards forgiveness, recognizing that arriving at forgiveness is a desirable and necessary goal, not only because we are commanded to forgive one another “seventy times seven,” but also because forgiveness will rid our hearts of the toxic presence of resentment, anger, and bitterness. Read More
Longing for Christ – Br. James Koester
Br. James Koester
Preached at the Church of St. Augustine and St. Martin, Boston.
Advent 3A
Isaiah 35:1-10
Matthew 11:2-11
Several years ago, one of my favourite newspaper columnists[1] wrote about how she loved going to Church on Christmas Eve, especially if there was a light snowfall. She wrote about how she loved to hear the nativity story and sing the familiar Christmas carols. She wrote about how she would line up with the other members of the congregation and kneel before the altar, decorated with poinsettias, and receive Holy Communion. She wrote about all this and then ended her column wondering why she bothered, because even though she had grown up an Anglican, she had long ago stopped going to Church. She admitted that she didn’t believe a word of what was said in Church on Christmas Eve, or any other day for that matter.
What she loved was the ritual; the familiarity of the story; and the picture-perfect Christmas card scene of a moonlight night with lots of bright stars and snow. For her, there was no sense that the ritual and the story could mean any more than a reminder of a simpler time in her life. What she loved, and I hasten to add, these are my words and not hers, what she loved was the nostalgia of Christmases long ago. Read More
Strange Comparisons – Br. Lain Wilson
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We celebrate today the feast of Saint Stephen, deacon and first martyr. Coming so soon after Christmas, this can feel a bit odd. We’ve just celebrated the birth of God as a human, the miraculous mystery of the divine taking on human flesh as part of a plan for the world’s salvation—and here we are, immediately after, hearing about the martyr’s death of one of Jesus’s first followers.
What are we to make of this juxtaposition?
Two comparisons come to mind.
First, the comparison of Stephen to Jesus, which many commentators have made. I think this tells us something important about God. A genre of painting of the infant Jesus depicts him holding his cross—from his birth he is already on the road to Calvary. God took on mortal flesh because it was in dying that humankind could be redeemed. This is the other side of the joy and glitter of Christmas—the knowledge that Good Friday follows soon.
God taking on human flesh also means that God is with us humans through everything. And so the story of Stephen also tells us something important about us. It tells us about our capacity for courage, our capacity for truth-telling, our capacity for witness-bearing. A capacity that is not wholly our own but constantly available when we recognize that God is with us. Stephen was the first martyr, followed by countless others, known and unknown, whose solace and comfort was that God so loved the world that God became a part of it, that God as Jesus suffered and died to save it, and that God promised to be with us always.
This comparison between Stephen and Jesus is most apparent in Stephen’s death, when he commends his soul to God, as Jesus does on the cross. But I am struck by another part of this episode, his vision of God enthroned in glory and Jesus standing at God’s right hand. Having just celebrated Christmas, having heard all the familiar stories, I am struck by another comparison: that between Stephen and the shepherds, witnesses to the heavenly host praising God: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors” (Luke 2:14).
If in bearing witness to God’s incarnation the shepherds responded with fear, awe, and joy, Stephen in his response fulfills the angels’ song of praise: “Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them’” (Acts 7:60). Faced with conflict, Stephen showed peace; faced with hatred, forgiveness and goodwill.
Perhaps not our idea of peace and goodwill, but it is, and has been, all too often what is asked of us, in big and small ways, as followers of Jesus. But we can take to heart, we can find courage to bear it, because of the example of witnesses like Stephen, and because of the assurance that God is with us, here and now, always.
Amen.
Anchor yourself in God – Br. Jack Crowley
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In our Gospel this morning, Jesus tells us to take the log out of our own eye before looking at the speck in our neighbor’s eye. We have all sorts of expressions that get at a similar meaning. Focus on yourself. Stay in your own lane. Mind your own business. Keep your side of the street clean…my personal favorite is put on your own oxygen mask before helping others.
What’s amazing about these expressions is you could probably say them to anyone, at any age, anywhere on earth and people would understand what you mean. These are timeless truths and make common sense, yet personally I fail at following them all the time.
One of the great paradoxes of human nature is that we can think about ourselves all the time and still have the energy to obsess over other people. This is especially true when we obsess over the faults of other people – their mistakes, their shortcomings, their annoying habits, and so on. We can talk at length about how other people are driving us crazy, yet when it comes to opening up about our own soul, that takes work. Read More
Meeting Us Where We Are, and Sending Us Out – Br. David Vryhof
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Br. David Vryhof
Has the Risen Christ ever come to you when you were in a place of need? If so, how did he come?
I’m moved by the resurrection accounts in the Fourth Gospel, in which Jesus returns to his broken-hearted disciples as the Risen One, meeting them just where they are.
Early in the morning of the first day of the week, he appears to Mary Magdalene just outside the tomb.[i] She is confused and desperate, weighed down with grief and loss, and can only imagine that someone has, for reasons incomprehensible to her, removed the body from the tomb and laid it somewhere else. Her teary eyes fail to recognize the One who speaks to her. She assumes he is the gardener and pleads with him to tell her where they have laid him. Then Jesus speaks her name. “Mary.” And her world immediately brightens. Instantly, the weight of grief is lifted from her shoulders; hope springs anew; her teacher is alive!
Recall how Jesus appears to Peter, the faithful and devoted disciple who, swept up in a moment of fear, denied knowing his Lord three times.[ii] Now he meets Jesus on the shores of Lake Galilee, where he has been fishing with the others.[iii] Jesus speaks to him so tenderly. “Peter, do you love me?” Never a word of blame is spoken; Jesus does not criticize or shame. Three times the question is asked; three times Peter affirms his love for Jesus; three times the charge is given, “Feed my sheep.”[iv] Jesus offers forgiveness, accepts Peter’s pledge of love, and restores him to a position of leadership among the disciples. So kind, so tender, so sensitive to Peter’s pain, Jesus absolves him. Read More
Practicing Forgiveness in the Midst of Resentment – Br. Jack Crowley
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If you came here tonight expecting some lighthearted readings, I’m sorry to disappoint. You know things are serious when Jesus starts using words like prison and torture. So, what’s the cause of such gravity?
Forgiveness. Jesus is talking about forgiveness. In our Gospel tonight, Jesus frames forgiveness in serious and powerful tones.
We know the power of forgiveness. We know this already in our hearts. We know what an amazing feeling it is to forgive and be forgiven. We know those awesome moments of reconciliation when friends heal rifts and grow stronger.
We also all know the power of resentments. Resentments have the power to strangle moments of joy out of our lives. Resentments have the power to keep us up at night, fuming in our beds. Resentments have the power to harden our hearts and make us into people we don’t want to be. Read More
Secret Faults and Presumptuous Sins – Br. Curtis Almquist
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Br. Curtis Almquist
Psalm 19:7-14
“…Cleanse me from my secret faults.
Above all, keep your servant from presumptuous sins;
let them not get dominion over me;
then shall I be whole and sound,
and innocent of a great offense…”
In the early 1970s, the great psychiatrist and clinician Karl Menninger wrote a book entitled Whatever Became of Sin? where he acknowledged that the notion of sin had fallen into disrepute because it had failed to help people to change.[i]
There is a qualifying adjective for sin in the psalm appointed for today, Psalm 19, which has currency. The psalmist prays, “Cleanse me from my secret faults. Keep your servant from presumptuous sins,” also translated, “Keep your servant from being insolent.” The word insolent comes from the Latin insolentem, which is arrogance, or haughtiness, or unwarranted pride.[ii] This “presumptuous sin” qualifier may bring some clarity to the subject of sin: arrogance, self-importance, haughtiness: a “presumptuous sin.” Here’s a disclaimer. The great Boston preacher, Phillips Brooks, said that “all sermons are autobiographical.” For the sake of full disclosure, I want you to know that I can speak with some expertise about “presumptuous sins.”
A presumptuous sin is to presume that your “take” on things is the way things are. Period. What you see, what you hear, what you sense, what you conclude, what you remember, how you judge another person or situation or conversation or altercation has a kind of invincible veracity. Your conclusion is correct, and uncontestable, and patently obvious. You might even presume you clearly know the motives in other people’s actions or comments: why it is they have done or not done, said or not said whatever it may be. It’s a kind of presumed omniscience about others. And when our subconscious sense of omniscience leads us to judge another person harshly, to condemn them, or belittle them, or to be quietly satisfied that we are not like them, we are likely in touch with a presumptuous sin. Read More
Unheard Voices – Br. Lain Wilson
Whose voice aren’t we hearing?
This has been the question that rings loudly in my mind as I hear our Gospel lesson today. In it, we learn a lot about our characters: what Lazarus wanted in life, what the rich man is desperate for in the afterlife, and that Abraham cannot—or will not—give to the rich man what he desires.
“Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue,” the rich man begs (Lk 16:24). No, Abraham replies. There’s a chasm fixed between us, and no way across.
“Send [Lazarus] to my father’s house . . . that he may warn [my family]” (Lk 16:27-28). No. There’s nothing the dead can do for the living that the living can’t get from the law and prophets.
This story illustrates Jesus’s own statement, from just a few verses before, that “it is easier for heaven and earth to pass away, than for one stroke of a letter in the law to be dropped” (Lk 16:17). The rich man’s reversal of fortune is because of how he lived his life. The remedy was there in front of him all along, in the law and the prophets. We have that remedy, too.
But whose voice aren’t we hearing? Read More
Best Gifts – Br. Luke Ditewig
Br. Luke Ditewig
Clement of Rome
You’ll get what you give, Jesus says. Forgive and be forgiven. Judge and be judged. Compassion. Accusation. There’s reciprocity in relationship. Don’t give what you don’t want to get, especially with feedback, correction, or teaching, acknowledge your own needs. Keep at own work first. “Take the log out of your own eye so you can even rightly see the speck in your neighbor’s.” You might need help. Logs are heavy. Jesus gives a direct word because community is hard work. We need each other. It’s easy to find fault, to hold onto hurt, distance, and cut off.
Today we remember Clement of Rome, an early church leader. There was division at the church in Corinth when some younger leaders convinced the whole to remove the ruling elders. Clement wrote a pastoral letter calling the community to stick it out and abide together, to keep and listen to its elders. Clement called for maintaining hierarchy and for balance with mutuality. For a couple centuries, some included Clement’s Letter to the Corinthians in the New Testament. Clement wrote: “All work together and are mutually subject for the preservation of the whole body.” Read More
Choices – Br. David Vryhof
Br. David Vryhof
There was once a man whose younger son wanted to make his own choices in life. Now it pained the father to let him make these choices because he suspected that his son was not really mature enough to make wise choices – but still he gave him the freedom he wanted. (There are times when this is a good thing for love to do.)
At any rate, his son was pleased, and he began to make his choices.
He chose, first of all, to have his share of his father’s inheritance turned into spending money. Then he chose to leave his father’s home, taking all his money with him. Next, he began to choose some new friends, and together with them he chose some ways to spend his money. And with each choice that he made, that deep inner part of him, the part of him that made choices, was becoming something a little different than it was before.
Until at last he found that his choices had ruined him.
That was the turning point. Read More