Sermon - Living Lifted Up - 17th Sunday after Pentecost

September 27, 2020  - 17th Sunday After Pentecost (21A)       Stuttgart Liturgical Service

Philippians 2:1-13, Matthew 21:23-32

I don’t know about you, but I need a little bit of encouragement these days. The world seems crazier and more mixed up that I ever remember it, even though the world has often been even more dangerous and unpredictable than now. You cannot read a newspaper or watch television or check social media without getting hit in the face with the reality that, left to our own devices, we can really mess things up.

That’s why we need a story bigger than our own in which to be grafted and grounded. That’s why we read the stories of the Hebrew Bible and Christian scriptures. They tell stories that are true. It’s not the facts that draw us to the stories… it’s the truth of the stories – Truth with a capital T.  The gospels are like documentaries of Jesus’ life and teachings, each with a particular audience in mind. Likewise, the letters are written to specific communities of believers with unique problems and gifts.

These writings were designated as a canon of sacred texts after they had proved to be instructive to the Christian community for several hundred years. Still today, they teach us important lessons about who God is and who we are called to be. Knowing this, what do we do with the words that we have heard today from Paul and involving the events and stories we have heard about Jesus?

This passage from Philippians is very famous and historical. It is called “the Christ Hymn,” and is believed to be part of a hymn from the early church, when Christianity was spreading from person to person, and house to house. These verses are deeply theological, describing not just the behaviors of Jesus, but also revealing Paul’s understanding of his very nature.

Deep questions are addressed in this passage. What is the relationship between Christ’s humanity and his divinity? And how does the saving work of his life relate to the work that we are called to in his name? Even better, this passage names the kinds of lives we are being called to live – lives of love, compassion, sharing and sympathy. It sounds like an easy task in the abstract, but in practice, it is agonizingly difficult. Why do you think that is?

One reason could be our status in the world. That status could be defined by our race, our gender, our socioeconomic level, our level of education… the list is endless. I think about the life that I am leading… about where I came from and the resources I have at my disposal, and it’s easy to get caught up in the expectations of the world… to be lured into thinking that I’m doing OK on my own. After all, if my needs are being met, that’s the most important thing. But that’s not true, at least not in God’s world. When trouble comes, personal, emotional, worldly trouble, I am reminded that my own comfort and perspective are secondary to the life which I claim in Christ.

It is worth remembering that the earliest Christians were considered some of the lowest members of society. The chief priests and elders made that pretty clear in our gospel lesson. “By whose authority are you upsetting our apple cart?” they ask Jesus. In many respects, they had the right – he was not from the line of those who served as priests. But still Jesus taught. In fact, he uses this to challenge very premise of their question. He knew that somewhere along the way they had stopped being followers of God and started being the gatekeepers of the world they wanted to control. Jesus knew that while they thought very highly of themselves, they were also afraid enough for their positions that they wouldn’t pull out the big guns until it was absolutely necessary.

We don’t know exactly why this parable is the one that follows Jesus’ newest encounter with the religious leaders, but we can see that it would be a real puzzle to everyone gathered… no easy answers allowed. Which of the sons honored the father? The one who told him what he wanted to hear, or the one who maybe even begrudgingly did the right thing? Do actions mean more than words?  I’m betting this quandary is lived out in each of our homes every day. And when we can see ourselves on both sides of the fence, I don’t know about you, but I am uncomfortable with this encounter and how it calls me to task, no matter which side I am on.

So maybe pairing this passage from Philippians with this Jesus encounter is purposeful enough to allow us to dig a little deeper into not only the nature of Christ, but also our relationship with him. So I’d like to spend a little more time on Paul's words.

When I look back over my life, I often remember that it’s been at the moments that I have felt most carefree and “together” – when everything was ‘rainbows and unicorns’ - that life got turned upside down, reminding me of why I need Jesus. A few years out of college, I got a promotion at work and a few months later was offered an even bigger job in a different state. And I wanted to be happy – to celebrate my big success with my friends and family… but all I could do was cry. And after prayer and soul searching and some good pastoral care, I realized that wasn’t the life I wanted, and a year later ended up cashing it in all in to go to seminary.

Over and over in my life, just when I thought I had my act totally together, I realized that this was not the life that Jesus had called me to. And I’ll bet that’s true for you, too. This passage from Philippians reminds us that we meet Christ most honestly in the midst of our need for God. Just when we think that we can make it on our own, something reminds us that our real strength is found in community… in loving and caring for one another, in putting the needs of others ahead of our own needs, in being willing to change our minds about the things we were once so sure of.

Today we hear of Christ himself taking the form of a slave, humbling himself even to the point of death by crucifixion -- the execution reserved for traitors in the Roman Empire. In God’s world, it is Christ’s willingness to give up himself to the powers of the world that gives us our freedom. To become like Christ, if that’s what’s being asked of us (and I think it is), we begin by hearing how Christ became like us, and continues to come among us. Then, and only then, are we ready to hear about how to be "the imitation of Christ."

Jesus’ life is one of both descent and ascent – of coming down to be like us, with us, even though he was in the form of God and equal with God. Relinquishing that, even for a short time, must have felt like slavery for him – limited by the frailness of the human body and spirit. During his time with us, he experienced how fickle humanity can be, and how we are willing to sacrifice much for our own safety and security. And still he gave himself up for us, obedient to the task at hand, willing to see it through, even though the end would be so painful.[i]

This is both exhilarating and frightening, to see what Christ went through in his faithfulness to God, and then knowing that we are also called to live that kind of life. The best news is this: we are not called to this kind of life alone.

God is the one working in us, stirring up in us a willingness to do the things which must be done. When we immerse ourselves in it fully, God’s work is the source of our energy and enthusiasm to serve. And when we find community in the process, amazing, even miraculous things can be accomplished. In fact, because of the language differences between Greek and English, the “you” to which Paul refers is not in reference to individuals alone being called to serve, but to the development of communities, the willing and the working.

Likewise, the salvation that we are working out is not just about who’s going to heaven and who’s not, but about the quality of our corporate life as we work together under the rule of the Savior. How will we know if we are successful in sustaining this kind of life? Paul talks about it in these terms: mutual love and affection, sharing in the Spirit, unity, humility, sacrifice – and doing in all “in Christ.” So, if anyone tries to tell you that faith is an individual, private thing, or that’s it’s all about going to heaven, please direct them to Paul and this letter to the church at Philippi. Faith is corporate and public and even political… after all, Jesus came to turn the world upside down and calls us to do the same.

I don’t know what that means for you, but the place that I’ve started is to listen. There are millions of people in the world who have different life experiences than mine, and rather than assuming the worst of them and trying to make their lives look more like mine, I try to put more energy into listening to their pain and disappointment and joy, and to figure out if there is some way that I can be a part of the solutions to make life and the world better.

On NPR I heard the story of student who helped integrate a public high school in Tennessee in 1964. All-white schools would often refuse to play there, and if they did meet on the field, many of the black players left the game bloodied from the extra hard hits and no-calls from the referees on the field. Sometimes the police would have to escort their buses as they left town. He described the relief he felt when they got back to the high school safely, seeing his dad there to pick him up, each week escaping the angry mob of mostly white folks who felt like this integrated team was ruining football for them.

Dr. Weaver said, "Normally when you're with a team, you feel like everybody's going to stand together, and I never got that feeling that the team would stand with me if things got bad," Weaver says. "I think a number of the white students who were there with me would say now, If I could have did something different, I would've said something. But that's what evil depends on, good people to be quiet."

Weaver had never been back to West High School since graduating 50 years ago. After hearing a StoryCorps interview that aired on NPR, the current principal reached out, and Weaver returned says he will return to the school to talk to the students about his experiences with integrating the school.[ii] Think about that – over 50 years since it all happened and this was the first opportunity he had to go back and share what that meant to him – how it made him the person he is today.

Don’t be fooled into thinking that a good Christian life is all about the grand gesture… although those are always good. The harder thing is to not be silent when a word of love or kindness or support is needed. It’s scary to step out of our comfort zones and say the things we know that others don’t want to hear. But Paul reminds us that the more we act out and speak out the faith we accept in our hearts, the more God will give us the heart and energy and courage to walk that road. In the end, we have to live like we’re lifted up, and God will do the rest.

I’m going to close with the same Philippians 2 passage, but this time from Eugene Peterson’s “The Message.”

^1-4 If you’ve gotten anything at all out of following Christ, if his love has made any difference in your life, if being in a community of the Spirit means anything to you, if you have a heart, if you care— then do me a favor: Agree with each other, love each other, be deep-spirited friends. Don’t push your way to the front; don’t sweet-talk your way to the top. Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead. Don’t be obsessed with getting your own advantage. Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand.

^5-8 Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion.

^9-11 Because of that obedience, God lifted him high and honored him far beyond anyone or anything, ever, so that all created beings in heaven and on earth—even those long ago dead and buried—will bow in worship before this Jesus Christ, and call out in praise that he is the Master of all, to the glorious honor of God the Father.

^12-13 What I’m getting at, friends, is that you should simply keep on doing what you’ve done from the beginning. When I was living among you, you lived in responsive obedience. Now that I’m separated from you, keep it up. Better yet, redouble your efforts. Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God. That energy is God’s energy, an energy deep within you, God himself willing and working at what will give him the most pleasure

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[i] Susan Eastman, Commentary on Philippians 2:1-13, Preach This Week, September 24, 2011, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1009

[ii] William Lynn Weaver, “What Evil Depends On: For Good People to Be Quiet.” Story Corps: NPR Morning Edition, September 29, 2017.

Sermon - Day by Day - 16th Sunday after Pentecost (20A)

16^th Sunday after Pentecost (20A)                                               Matthew 20:1-16

Sept 20, 2020

Ever heard this at your house? “But that’s not fair!!!” (Did I get the tone of voice right?) Oh, I see you have! J This cry is not new. We have all felt that way at one time or another. We want the best treatment possible. We want people to hold up their ends of the bargains we make with them, implied or explicit. We have expectations that need to be met and we want it all on our terms.

I’d say it’s “the American Way,” but this attitude of fairness or appropriate reward predates our history as a nation, or even our practice as Christians. From the beginning of our history, God promised to make a great nation. For the early followers of God, this relationship was mediated by the head of the household – first Abraham, then Isaac, then Jacob and Joseph. But at many stops along the way, something got in the way of that relationship. We strayed off the path. We stopped following God. When the Israelites were in slavery in Egypt, God called new spokesperson – Moses. His credentials? He was called from a burning bush. Try to argue with that kind of call!

We’ll talk about this more in a few weeks, but for a minute, let’s think about Moses receiving God’s word. God hoped these ten general rules would be enough. Worship me only… don’t murder… don’t steal… don’t lie… don’t covet. But the people wanted more rules. They wanted to know the details of what was and what was not allowed. When tathered together, the rules numbered in the hundreds. Ask the Torah law code a question, and it will give you an answer. What to eat… what to wear… when to plant… when to harvest… who to accept… who to reject… the code will tell you what to do.

For instance, what do you pay a hired worker as a daily wage? Look to the law. A denarius was considered the fair way for a day’s work. It was enough for a person to exist for a day, but not enough to feed a whole family. This concept was based on the manna experience in the wilderness. God will provide just-in-time remedies just when you need them. Nothing more or less.

So, when our landowner went to look for laborers, he went offering them the amount that was expected. And those who came at the first hour were willing to work a whole day – 12 hours – for that wage.  Each time the landowner went out, he promised a fair wage to those who followed. No other promises were made by the boss, but assumptions were made by the workers. Everyone assumed that the workers who followed would earn less, based on the number of hours they worked. That was what the law required. That’s what everyone expected. That’s what we expect.

At the end of the day, the boss started paying those who worked only one hour. Imagine their surprise when they got a full day’s wage. Likewise, those who worked 3 and 6 and 9 hours also got a full day’s wage. But when the 12-hour workers got paid, they were angry that they only got what they agreed to – a full day’s wage. “Not fair,” they cried. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

But Jesus’ stories rarely do… at least through our human lens. In most of the parables and in his other teachings, Jesus is all about changing expectations… it can be jarring because it feels like life is upside down and backwards, all at the same time. This often means that even when we think we have this “living for Jesus thing” all figured out, Jesus turns it all on its head.  

Back in Matthew 19, we run into a rich young man who learns this lesson the hard way. (I know, I talk about him a lot!) He asks Jesus, “What good thing must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus responds, “obey the commandments.” The young man responds, “All these I have done – what do I lack?” Jesus’ response was “Sell your possessions, give the money to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come and follow me.” And do you remember the young man’s response? “When the young man heard this word, he went away grieving, for he had many possessions” (v22).

The rich young man was curious about how Jesus would interpret the law. Maybe it was a test – maybe it wasn’t. But Jesus’ answer would tell him something important about who Jesus is. What he didn’t understand was that Jesus came to both fulfill and reorder the law. There are new rules of engagement in the kingdom of God, and Jesus came to proclaim them to us, one encounter at a time.

Back to our landowner – he could pay people whatever he wanted. He chose to treat everyone as if they had worked the whole day. The anger in this story doesn’t come because the landowner didn’t live up to his promises. It came because he was too generous. This story is about more than a fair day’s wage. It is about our expectations of who God is and what God’s kingdom and church look like.

Previously, living a life of faith with YHWH, “I AM,” the God of the Israelites, was about following the rules – understanding the letter of the law. Living a life of faith with Jesus was about understanding the intent of the law. Jesus didn’t come to make us better rule followers. He came to make us more loving people. Both the story of the rich ruler and this parable about the generous landowner are meager expressions of the amazing generosity that God feels for us AND in turn expects from us.

More than anything, this story and most of Jesus’ tales are stories of the triumph of grace. Participation in the kingdom of God is not about accomplishment or achievement. Life in Jesus is not about doing all the right things in order to gain salvation. It is about something much harder. It is about understanding that we only do this “faith thing” with God’s help. And help isn’t even the right word… it’s really about surrendering to God. And that scares us to death.

The rich young man rejects this notion of surrender because he can only define himself by his possessions and behaviors. I’m sure he said to himself, “But I follow the rules…”  Likewise, the workers who labored the longest are resentful, not of what they have received, but for the generosity that was shown to others who did not work as long. Think about the corpus of Jesus’ parables. They are all about this same generous God. A father who welcomes home a wayward son … a housewife who loses a fine pearl and cleans the whole house until it is found… a shepherd to leaves 99 sheep safe at home to go and search for the lost one.  

This kind of extravagance is hard to comprehend. It’s more extravagant than waking up every Saturday morning to find your car washed and vacuumed and always in perfect running order. It’s more extravagant than coming home to a perfectly prepared meal, complete with dessert and a clean house and well-behaved children and pets. It’s more extravagant than the most amazing vacation or the most breath-taking piece of jewelry or a worry-free retirement. God did more than give us the things we want. He gave us a path to what we need the most. He gave us a life worth living.

The God we worship, the one who calls us into a two-way relationship, is overwhelmingly generous. He is more amazing than anyone any of us can fully comprehend. He loves us more than the person who loves us the most – our husband or wife, our parents or children or friends. He gives us what we don’t deserve… life, a fair day’s wage, and opportunities to share it with others in his name. Sometimes that’s the biggest barrier to committing ourselves fully to him.

Maybe if we see ourselves differently, we can understand the story the way it was meant to be heard. At our best, we see ourselves as the “whole day” workers. “I have worked long and hard … please appreciate me.” But to tell the truth, I am only a part-time laborer. Sometimes I can be counted on for a full day’s work, but not always (and you know I’m not talking about hours.)  Instead, I am the rich young ruler, unable to fully surrender. I am the indignant worker, mad that others are equal recipients of God’s love. Lucky for us, we are also the workers who only works an hour and receives a full day’s wage. God loves us all equally and extravagantly and asks us to do the same.

When asked at the end of my first semester of seminary what I found most surprising, I answered, “There’s a lot of people preaching heresy out there.” My second biggest “wow” came several years later when I realized the most important classes I took were not in theology, biblical studies, or preaching. They were the ones I took in church history. It confirmed my earlier suspicions… that we often revive the theological heresies of the first two centuries, dusting them off and using them to legitimize our misuse of power and privilege.

There have been a lot of times when the Church was the most important power on the planet… those were usually dark times for the marginalized people of the world… the poor, the immigrant, women, children. Jesus’ message valued those on the outside… he maybe even preferred them. That’s a very hard message to hear when we sit in positions of power and privilege – especially if we don’t think that’s where we sit.

This parable calls us to read the story from the marginalized perspective… the 1-hour worker is blessed by the great gift of a full-days wage. At the same time, the full day worker is blind to the injustice they perpetrate by hating those who receive more than WE think they deserve. (Miguel de la Torre – Reading the Bible From the Margins, Chapter 1, 2002)

When we read in the gospel of John, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son so that whoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16),” we must internalize the message buried deep within Jesus’ story. First, this gift is offered to everyone – we don’t get to choose who hears and responds to Jesus’ call. And second, it isn’t offered to sit on the shelf and be admired from afar. It is intended to change everything we know about what it means to live. Once we have the gift of eternal life, we have to allow it to change everything about us … our feelings, our thinking, and our choices for how we relate to others. 

On his deathbed, 13^th Century bishop, Richard of Chichester prayed on his deathbed a prayer which has been condensed to these familiar words: 

Thanks be to Thee, my Lord Jesus Christ

For all the benefits Thou hast given me,

For all the pains and insults Thou hast borne for me.

O most merciful Redeemer, friend and brother,

May I know Thee more clearly,

Love Thee more dearly,

Follow Thee more nearly.

And God’s people respond: Day by day.

That’s the challenge of the Christian lives we lead… to live as if we KNOW that Jesus’ loves us. Day by day, hour by hour, we are bathed in the glory of God’s love. We don’t deserve it. We can never work enough for it. And yet, here we are, recipients of his boundless love, grace, and mercy, and required to pass it on.

Thanks be to God.

Let us pray:

Lord Jesus, we cry out to you for deliverance in our times of need. Sometimes, in your gracious love, you come to us, you meet our need, you respond to our cries with your deliverance.

And yet sometimes, dear Lord, we confess that the deliverance you send may not be the deliverance we thought we wanted.

And sometimes, once our problem is solved, we find ourselves with new problems and different challenges.

Thus we pray for three things: The ability to recognize your deliverance when it is offered, the grace to receive your deliverance as yo

u would give it to us rather than what we thought we deserved, and the faith to embrace the new life you give us in our deliverance.

For your care and your deliverance, we give thanks. Most of all, we give thanks for your love that enables us, delivered of our ills or not, to live with faith, hope, and love. Amen. (Will Willimon, Pulpit Resource, Volume 48, No. 3, Year A, 2020)

Sermon - 15th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 19A)

Romans 14:1-12, Matthew 18:21-35                                  Panzer Chapel Liturgical Service

September 13, 2020

“The Upper Hand”

We forgive because God has first forgiven us. This would seem to be an obvious point. And yet, too many times, probably sometime of every day, we forget that we are where we are because we live forgiven lives. God has forgiven us for the terrible, awful, stupid things that we have done to shame and embarrass ourselves. God has forgiven us the petty, insignificant things which we thought that nobody would ever know about. And God will forgive us tomorrow and the day after that for the mistakes and sins that we will commit, on purpose, in the future. The good new is this: We are forgiven, even when we forget or don’t believe that we are forgiven.

In last week’s appointed lesson, Jesus had a discussion with the disciples about discipline and reconciliation in the church. He told us to work hard to build bridges between us, even when we disagree. It’s where we get a promise for the future – “wherever two or three are gathered in my name, there I will be also.’ So naturally, Peter wanted to nail down Jesus’ expectations, asking for a clearer understanding of exactly what is required in the area of forgiveness.

Peter came and said to Jesus, "Lord, if another member of the church sins again against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?" Jesus said to him "Not seven times, but I tell you, seventy-seven times."

 Well, isn’t that extraordinary? In fact, some translations cannot agree on whether Jesus said seventy times seven (490) or seventy-seven. It doesn’t really matter though, because what Jesus meant was, “Forgive them until you’ve lost count and then forgive them some more.” What an awesome responsibility. What an awesome, exhausting responsibility.

And of course, to get his message across, Jesus told a story… one which you and I are quickly able to understand is our story.  A king brought decided to settle with all those who owed him money. He had the upper hand in those relationships. And before him came at least one man who could not get his act together. Let’s call him Joe. As the king was ready to throw Joe’s life away, Joe begged the king, ‘Have mercy on me. Be patient and I will pay you all I owe.”  So, the king, having the upper hand, showed mercy and Joe went free. What a great end to the story. Except it’s not the end.

As we read on, we find that to gather the money he owes the king, Joe goes out and harasses all the people who owe HIM money. Now Joe has the upper hand. And when the next guy, let’s call him Jerry, asks for the same patience and goodwill from Joe that Joe received from the king, Joe is the first one to say, “No way!” and has Jerry thrown into prison. 

Now this is concerning to everyone watching, because who knew which one of them might be next to feel Joe’s wrath. And so they went and complained to the king. And the king was so upset that he went off the deep end and order a terrible punishment for Joe, erasing all of the previous undeserved forgiveness. For Joe, it’s not a happy ending at all. Now, who has the upper hand?

It is hard for us to listen to this story without swallowing a big lump at the end. And unless we are careful, this we come away with a fear of retribution, God’s retribution. Made simple, we could interpret the message as: “Make God mad, and you’re in BIG trouble!”

But let’s remember a few things. First, the king has a right to be angry. He trusted Joe to be changed by his generosity. After all, the king didn’t just forgive him on a whim. No, he did it to make a point, to change the way that Joe lived the rest of his life. It’s a sad commentary on life that Joe couldn’t even remember the king’s kindness through the end of the day. The King’s forgiveness wasn’t valued after all. That wasn’t what the king expected.

When we hear the parables of Jesus, we want them to have happy endings, to wrap everything up in a nice, tight package. But I wonder if this parable is troubling to many of us because, well, we relate to Joe. When push comes to shove, we neither want to forgive or love or be generous, especially when we think that we are in the right, or don’t recognize when we are repeating the same old mistakes.

Instead of comforting us, this parable makes us afraid. We want to get past the fear of unforgiveness and dip into the well of joy when we first hear those words, “I forgive you.” But left to our own devices, we don’t know how. We trust the instinct which says “Win at all costs.” We forget how much we need to hear and say the words, “You are loved.”

So as an addendum let us look at a practical parable of what it is to be forgiven by God. It is called the Parable of the Bug by Ernesto Medina. He writes:

I don't know abut you, but if I see an bug walking along the kitchen counter top, I don't even think twice about smashing it (make appropriate hand gesture). I have done this for years. One day, while I was at home minding my own business, there I saw yet another one of those blasted bugs making its way around the sink. In almost a reflex movement, my hand reached out, index finger poised, pressed to the counter top, and poof, it was gone.

Then, half-way kidding with myself, I asked, "Why don't I feel awful when I do that?" The answer was obvious... I am this tall (move hand to my height) and the bug is this small (put fingers together to show the size of the ant). Such a great difference in size allows me the freedom to feel nothing when I kill it.

And then, do you know what occurred to me? As large a difference between the bug and myself, this difference is nothing compared to the difference between me and God! Yet, God does not go around squashing us (hand gesture). In fact, God does something very different. God offers an arm outstretched calling us into divine presence. An outstretched arm asking us to stand in the midst of God's love. In spite of the difference between us and God, God cares for each one of us. Enough care that Jesus dies for our sins. Enough care that we are forgiven. (WORSHIP THAT WORKS , Rev. Ernesto R. Medina - Proper 19 Notes).

So how does this play out in our lives? How do we go about the business of getting right with the people we need to be able to love? For each of us, there are many right answers. The question is very personal – one size does not fit all. But at the same time, this is also a very painful question, painful because it makes us look at ourselves in ways that we often try to ignore. History shows one man’s struggle and how it played out in his life:

At the time that Leonardo da Vinci was painting “The Last Supper,” he had bitter argument with a fellow painted, and as a result, anger overflowed into his life. As da Vinci was painting the face of Judas Iscariot, he decided to paint the face of his enemy as Judas’ face, so that their feud might be permanently recorded by all who looked at the painting. 

Slowly da Vinci worked on the faces of the other disciples. But each time he tried to paint the face of Jesus, he found that it would not come out right. Da Vinci was confused and frustrated. Eventually, he realized his hatred of this other painter was keeping him from being able to see Jesus’ face clearly enough to complete the painting. It was only after he made peace with his friend and repainted Judas’ face that he was able to paint Jesus’ face and complete his masterpiece. (Hot Illustrations for Youth Talks, 1994, Youth Specialties, Inc., page 161.)

The gospel message can really be boiled down to these words, as found at the beginning of Bill Countryman's book The Good News of Jesus. In the first paragraph, he essentially says that the Good News that Jesus brought was to tell us that we are forgiven. Nothing more. Nothing Less. All Christ requires of us is to accept the gift and pass it on.

We are living through difficult times. The walls between us have never seemed taller or thicker. But the day will come, sooner than we might imagine, when we will be asked to live out the gift of forgiveness we have already received. We think of Jesus’ forgiveness as something that’s going to come in the future, but in reality, it has already happened even before we recognized our need.

Each one of us is already forgiven. Jesus came – he lived, he taught, he loved, he died, and he rose again to show us that all is not lost. Jesus’ parable teaches us that forgiveness is something that is to only received, but also must be practiced… whether it’s seven times seventy or seventy-seven times – it really doesn’t matter. Jesus is asking us to develop the habit of forgiveness as we respond to the love that he has shown us with a forgiveness that can never we earned or deserved.  

How can we not respond to that kind of love? It is love that reaches out to us in our joys, our sorrows, our anger and our frustrations. Internalizing our own forgiveness is the first step in passing that gift on to others. It’s the foundation of what it means to be a family – of what it means to be the Church. Forgiveness not only changes our lives but changes the world. Thanks be to God!

Let us pray:

Lord, here we are, daring to speak to you in the faith that you want to be in conversation with us. We speak in the faith that, time and again in our history, when we have forgotten you, you remembered us. When we turned away from you, you returned to us.

Sometimes Lord, we fail to see your loving care for us at work among us. We look upon current events and don’t see much evidence of your activity. We find explanations for ourselves and the world that don’t include you. We doubt.

Come to us, Lord. In our worship, strengthen our faith that you care about us, you hear our cries, and you come to us. Help us to see that our doubt of you says more about us and our limits than about you and what you are up to.

Give us the grace to doubt our doubts. Deliver us from our skepticism and uncertainties. Enable us to see you as you are, God for us, God of love in action. Amen.