Reflection on Philippians 2:1-13

Philippians 2:1-13 (NRSVue)

¹ If, then, there is any comfort in Christ, any consolation from love, any partnership in the Spirit, any tender affection and sympathy, ² make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. ³ Do nothing from selfish ambition or empty conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. ⁴ Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interests of others. ⁵ Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
 ⁶ who, though he existed in the form of God,
  did not regard equality with God
  as something to be grasped,
 ⁷ but emptied himself,
  taking the form of a slave,
  assuming human likeness.
 And being found in appearance as a human,
  ⁸ he humbled himself
  and became obedient to the point of death—
  even death on a cross.

 ⁹ Therefore God exalted him even more highly
  and gave him the name
  that is above every other name,
 ¹⁰ so that at the name given to Jesus
  every knee should bend,
  in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
 ¹¹ and every tongue should confess
  that Jesus Christ is Lord,
  to the glory of God the Father.

  ¹² Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence but much more now in my absence, work on your own salvation with fear and trembling, ¹³ for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.

 

Reflection

The very first quartet I ever heard was in church.  My English teacher’s adult children had come home for Christmas, and they sang a Christmas hymn the Sunday after Christmas Eve.  They were a quartet of two sons and two daughters.  They sang without piano - a cappella, and their harmonies were perfect.  When they took pauses to breathe, they paused in perfect unity, and when they started singing again, they started singing in absolute perfection and coordination.  When they finished singing, there was a pause as their last harmonies bounced through the air and trailed off into a stunned silence.  Applause broke out in this small church that never clapped for any special music because, for these Christians, special music was not a performance, but a gift given to God, like your Sunday morning offering.  No one claps because you put a twenty into the offering plate.  But what these four did was much more than scraping together a gift to give to God.  Their song was a gift of God to us, showing us what being “of the same mind” in Christ can sound like (Philippians 2:2).  It can sound like being so in tune with one another that you cannot hear where one person begins and another ends.

I have seen this same gift of being “of the same mind” in Christ in other areas of life as well.  The ministry team of carpenters that came to help us rebuild after the flood that harmed our home was so skilled and practiced at putting up sheetrock that they barely needed to talk with one another.  One guy measured and put up the previously cut sheet while another took the measured sheet and cut.  It was like watching a ballet, only instead of tights and perfectly positioned hands these guys were wearing dusty jeans and were wielding utility knives.  But not only were they of one mind while they worked, they were of one mind in their mission.  They were there to help people rebuild, no matter who the people were, no matter how much or little the people made for an income, and no matter what their past sins.  They were “of the same mind” in Christ, convinced that this was a ministry of grace and healing; no judgment, just new life.

Being “of the same mind” feels so impossible these days.  Paul encourages the Philippians to be of one mind, to be of one accord, and to find themselves in love with one another, having the same sort of love that God has for God’s children.  Paul is optimistic that this can actually be a thing in our divided world.    

Paul is optimistic that people who wildly disagree about so many things in our society can be “in full accord and of one mind” (Philippians 2:2).  He truly thinks that our divided world can figure out how to ignore our “own interests” but rather focus of “the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4).

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,” Paul urges.

There does not have to be Cats vs. dogs, Star Wars vs. Star Trek, Minecraft vs. Roblox, sports socks vs. tube socks; or even Democrats vs. Republicans.  We do not have to live in a world where we refuse to be of one mind. 

So then, why aren’t we of one mind?  How did our world get so divided?  Why did we become so divided with our neighbors?  Why is it so important that we be right and others be wrong?

Paul seems to think that there are a couple of reasons that we get entangled in this trap of division.  You get a hint of it as Paul’s instructs the church in Philippi:

“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests…” 

Selfish ambition (desiring success); conceit (thinking more of yourself than you ought); and loving yourself and paying attention to your own wants and desires rather than turning your attention toward your neighbors; these are all self-focused things.  And, when everyone is focused on themselves, there is little chance that we will be able to be of one mind about anything.  A land of a million kings is not a land that is united.  So, what do we do?

Remember those singers that I talked about, whose harmonies were so at one with one another that we were convinced it was a pure gift from God?  With that sort of example in mind, Paul turns to a song to help unite us.  It is an early Christian hymn.  We no longer know the tune, but we know the powerful words.  The Hymn that these early Christians sang together went like this:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

who, though he was in the form of God, 

did not regard equality with God  

as something to be exploited,  

but emptied himself, 

taking the form of a slave,  

being born in human likeness.  

And being found in human form, 

he humbled himself  

and became obedient to the point of death—  

even death on a cross (Philippians 2:5-8)

You can imagine hearing the harmonies and the words expressing Jesus’ love and humility as they lingered in the air after the congregation finished the song.  Songs are powerful things.  Songs can penetrate deeply into our souls in ways that preaching and speeches simply cannot.  Songs speak to our hearts.  O Holy Night opens me up to the power of the Christ Child every Christmas in a way that no sermon or speech ever could. 

And when we sing them together as a group?  For that moment in time as the song pours from our all our lips together, we are one.  For a moment in this divided life, we are “of the same mind” as we sing our hymn.  We are “of the same mind” as we sing about Jesus and his kingdom.

As the Philippians sing together, they sing about a man who had as much power as God.  He could create as God creates, he could judge as God judges, and he was able to destroy as God is able to destroy. 

But rather than seeing the hate and division of the world, and thinking, “It is time for me to take over and take charge,” Paul says that he “did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave.”

I will stop right there.  How many of you have ever thought, “If I were emperor of the world, I would make everyone do this, this, and this, and the world would be a better place.”?  While driving together, a friend was once expressing to me how great it would be to become the emperor of the whole world.  The world would be a better place if only the world listened to his wisdom.  Just then his teenage children called, screaming on the phone.  They were fighting.  He tried to redirect the two teens, but they just kept screaming and eventually they just hung up on him.  So, I asked, “How’s being emperor of your home going?” 

But this song that the Philippians sing is about a man who has that kind of power.  He is the wise emperor with all the power.  He could just force everyone to bend to his ways.  He could force everyone to serve his vision of a new and better world. 

But rather than thinking, “It is time to destroy this mess of a world and start it all over again…how about another flood?” he came down from his heavenly heights, and he walked around for a while on the bloody soils of hate and division.  He allowed his own story to become a part of the world’s story.  “Though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped” (Philippians 2:6).

Rather he grasped onto all the hate and division that the world thrust his way.  Like a slave working in the fields, he carried that heavy burden all the way to a cross where he was nailed. 

“He emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:7-8).

Though his arms were spread wide, he never stopped holding onto the hate and division and sin.  It was nailed to his hands, still in his bloody grasp when death consumed him.  He died.  And when he died, the hate and division died with him.

This man regarded other people’s lives better than his own; worth more than his own.  He died that others might have a better and blessed life.  His life was not shaped by his own needs, interests, and desires; rather, he focused on what others needed.  He acted, even though it meant dying on a cross.

If you want to lift someone in high regard, Paul says, lift that guy: Jesus Christ.  Jesus is “the name that is above every other name,” Paul preaches (Philippians 2:9).  His name is the name that “every tongue should confess as Lord” (Philippians 2:11).  He is the one worthy of devotion and praise.  He is the one worthy of being followed.  He is the one worthy of being emulated.  Jesus is our savior.

The Apostle Paul has an idea for us.  Rather than be guided by political leaders or their ideologies, or by the whims of celebrities, or by societal pressures, or even our own whims and desires, the Bible suggests that we live and think with the mind of Christ.  Join the song of Jesus Christ.  Sing in harmony with him.  Or another way to put it: join in the ballet of his work.

You see, the mind of Christ has never cared about success.  The mind of Christ has never dwelt on selfish notions.  And the mind of Christ has never focused on “me” or the need for me to have more and be more.  The mind of Christ did not even focus on making everyone believe that he was right.  Christ focused his mind on obeying God and saving others.  Does that sound familiar? 

Paul’s idea sounds a lot like the greatest commandment: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27).

Join the Lord’s song.  Sing together the words of Christ.  Sing about the Lord healing when asked.  Sing about the Lord sharing a meal when needed.  Sing about the Lord freeing those who are captive and need to be set free.  Sing about the Lord of love.  “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5).  Christ’s mind is full of love. 

It is real love.  It is love in action.  It is a sacrificial love. 

Christ made you a part of that love.  He died to make you a part of that love.  Christ made you a member of his body; a member of Godly love.  Sing Christ’s song!  Allow Christ’s song to drown out the divisions, and disagreements, and selfish desires.  Allow Christ’s song of forgiving love and sacrificial help of neighbor to linger its beautiful harmonies in the air.  Let Christ’s song linger and then let it sink deeply into your soul.

Reflection on Matthew 20:1-16

Matthew 20:1-16 (NRSVue)

[Jesus said to the disciples:] 1 “The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. 2 After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius for the day, he sent them into his vineyard. 3 When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, 4 and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. 5 When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. 6 And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around, and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ 7 They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ 8 When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ 9 When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received a denarius. 10 Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received a denarius. 11 And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, 12 saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ 13 But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for a denarius? 14 Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. 15 Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ 16 So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

Reflection

“Well, that’s a wrap!” the farmer said as all of us kids jumped down from our seats on the bean bar and headed toward the farmer.  If you have spent any time in the Midwest, you know what bean barring is.  But, if you have not, it is when a soybean farmer hires a bunch of cheap labor, usually tweens and early teens, straps some bucket seats to a metal bar on the front of a sprayer, and the kids use guns connected to herbicide to shoot weeds in the bean field like first person action video game.  It is fun, and it is hot and sweaty and miserable.  Did I say shooting stuff is a lot of fun?  Plus, you get paid!

So, as we came up to the farmer, he handed out our checks for the summer.  I tore mine open and saw that I had made enough to buy the combination TV and stereo that I had been eyeing in Wal-Mart for months.  I was excited.  But when I looked over the shoulder of my friend, the farmer’s son, I saw that his check was double mine!

“I don’t understand, why is Joe’s check so much more,” I asked the farmer out of earshot of the others.  “I worked hard all summer!” 

“Of course you worked hard.  I paid for your work.  Just remember that Joe helps me take care of the pigs each and every day.  He did a lot more work than you.”

Of course, I made sense.  I was still a little jealous that I did not live directly on the farm so that I could work every day and make even more money.  But I no longer felt like I was treated unfairly.  I got paid for my hours, which were many, and Joe got paid for his, which were a lot more.  It was fair.

Now, what would have felt unfair is if Joe would have looked over my shoulder and saw that my check was the same amount as his, even though he put in many, many more hours.  He would have rightly been upset with his father.

You see, in our culture there is this basic math that says if you put in the time, you get the reward.  This is the basic eye for eye math that most of us inherently understand.  Some work equals some money.  You give a gift; I give a gift in return.  If a toddler bites you, you bite them back.  If someone steals a car, they owe you a car or something of equal value.  If you take a life, you lose your life.  Our criminal laws function this way, with lady liberty holding the scales of justice, balancing everything out fairly; not too much, not too little.

There is also noble math like: the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.  This is where a single soldier lays on a live grenade to save a whole group of his friends.  That is noble math indeed.

All of this is to say, that there is this basic math…these basic equations and laws of life…that allow us to get along and thrive.  This math almost seems like it is woven into the fabric of our very existence.  And I think that is why it feels so unsettling when God does not seem to understand how this basic math of life works.

Remember the story that Jesus told of the shepherd who leaves 99 sheep in peril while he goes to find one sheep (Matthew 18:12-14).  It is a story of weird math.  It teaches that in God’s kingdom, the needs of the one lost sheep can, shockingly, outweigh the needs of the many sheep. 

And, what about the person who is forgiven “seventy times seven” times for the same hurtful offense; forgiven over and over again (Matthew 18:21-22)?  It does not seem to make any sense, but in God’s kingdom the scales of justice sometimes lean dramatically to one side.  And that is just not how the math of the world works.

But it does not stop there.  Jesus even upsets the basic math of hard work! 

In today’s gospel story there is a vineyard owner who needs some day laborers to go trim his vines.  So, he goes to the end of the Home Depot parking lot and hires a bunch of guys at $12 an hour to work for an 8-hour shift.  They jump in the back of the pickup and go off to work.  A few hours later the vineyard owner sees that he could really use a few more men.  So, he goes back to the same Home Depot parking lot and hires more guys.  They jump in the back of the pickup.  Remember when we could ride in the back of a pick-up?  We cannot do that anymore.  There is no more laughing at Bill as he clings on for dear life after falling backwards off the tailgate.  Safety first and all.  Back to the story, the vineyard owner does this again and again.  Even at the very end of the day, the vineyard owner hires some guys who still had not been hired by anyone else.  At least they might earn a few bucks for the day.

Now, at the end of the day, the first guys that worked all day got paid $96 in cash for their 8 hours of work.  That is a meal and part of the electric bill right there.

Did I multiple right?  12x8=96?  As most of you understand about me; there is a reason I became a pastor and not an accountant.

In any case, the guys who worked all day got paid $96; the price that was agreed.  But here is the kicker in the story; the vineyard owner also gave the guys who worked just one hour $96.  Wait a second here.  12x1=12.  They should have gotten $12!

This is the exact same scenario that we talked about before where my friend theoretically looks over my shoulder and sees that I was paid the same as him, even though he worked a lot more through the summer than I did.

Now, I realize that I took some liberties with this ancient story.  We all know that Home Depot had not yet established its home renovation dominance in the world and that Bill would have been falling off the back of a donkey and not a pick-up truck. 

But what was not exaggerated was the vineyard owner’s total disregard for the math of hard work.  The guys who worked the day away in the hot sun earned $96.  Those who worked only one hour in the cool weather of the early evening also earned the full $96. 

This story of unfair wages is what the kingdom of heaven looks like according to Jesus?  God’s kingdom is a place where the hard workers are given the same as late comers?

This is bad math.  This is simply unfair.  How can that sort of math possibly be good for this world?

Here is what I fear.  I fear that if God uses this type of math, God ends up looking weak.

It is a weak god who allows the lazy to thrive.  “Don’t worry if you don’t want to come to work on time.  Come at the end and it will all be fine.”  Should not a strong God be holding firm to principles of hard work.  In the real world, you deserve what you earn.  Fair wage for fair time is the bedrock of a thriving economy.  Hard work and an eye for an eye…do you not remember those values, God?  Strong gods reward hard work: “God helps those who help themselves” and all that. 

Strong gods hold to their principles.  Strong gods care about those who follow the rules and do not break them.  Strong gods reward those who deserve rewarding.  Strong gods do not let everyday people trample on them, spit on them, and take advantage of them.  Strong gods do not allow themselves to get strung up on a cross to die.

Using the voice of the vineyard owner, Jesus answers our objections.  Jesus puts us in our place rather us putting God in God’s place.  Using the voice of the vineyard owner, Jesus says to those of us who worked hard the entire day: “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage?  Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you.  Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”

“Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”  We have heard this sentiment in the Bible before.  God basically said the same thing to the prophet Jonah who did not want any mercy shown to the evil and corrupt Ninevites who turn back to God after the deadline.  Jonah just knew that God was “gracious and merciful God, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from punishment” (Jonah 4:2).  The idea that God does not follow the rules of this world infuriates Jonah.  The idea that God does not follow the rules of this world, the rules of fairness, the rules of the strong, sometimes infuriates me.

But Jesus says, “Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous” (Matthew 20:15)? 

The word for “envious” here is a fascinating word.  It is literally translated as “evil eye” or more to the point: “greedy eye.”  Through the voice of the vineyard owner, Jesus says, “Or do you have a greedy eye because I am generous” (Matthew 20:15)?

That cuts to the truth really quick.  When I saw what Joe made in comparison to my check out in the field, I was jealous.  I had a greedy eye.  When we see people who do not deserve to be rewarded getting something good, we think, “Where’s mine?  Don’t I deserve more?  Why are you making them equal to me?”

A truly strong God is NOT the god who easily punishes, easily dismisses, and easily disregards others.  That sort of god is unable to see the workers at the end of the day who desperately want to work, but no one hired them.  That sort of god cannot have compassion because that sort of god does not see and does not want to see.  That sort of god would not seek the lost, jump on a grenade, or go to a cross.  The truth is that it is easy to dismiss, ignore, and cut people away from our lives.  That is not a strong god.  That is a god who is like us.  That is the lazy god.  That is a god who does not want to put in the hard work of picking up broken people.

The God who is truly strong is the God who forgives again and again and sticks it out.  A truly strong God sees the ones who have been forgotten.  A truly strong God goes after the one whose life is a mess and no one knows what to do with them.  A truly strong God goes to a cross to die for sinners like you and like me.  A truly strong God is a God who shows mercy. 

The kingdom ruled by Jesus Christ, works with a whole different system of math.  It is a math that desires “mercy, not sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6, Matthew 9:13, and Matthew 12:7).  It is a math that will go and save the one, even though there are many.  It is a math where all are created equal and given equal worth; there is no need for you to first earn your worth.  It is a math that can save a wretch like me.  It is a math that can look at the sinner…the lost cause…and see a future.  It is a math that looks nothing like our own because, in this math, one person’s death on a cross balances the scales and pays for the sins of the entire world.  Jesus gave “his life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:28).

There was once a man who stole a church’s Sunday collection as it sat in the back of the church.  It was thousands of dollars.  In retaliation for the theft, the church decided to pay all the man’s bills for the next few months.  The man and his financially struggling family were emotionally overcome by the mercy that the church showed.  And, when I say overcome, I mean more than the tears that were shed; and a lot of tears were shed.  I mean that the mercy of Jesus Christ literally took control of that man’s life, and his life was changed, forever.  He became one of the strongest, most compassionate leaders of that very church. 

At the time of the theft a befuddled reporter asked, “Why did the church do such a thing for someone who hurt them?”  A member of the church simply answered, “Are we not allowed to be generous?  We believe that the mercy of Jesus Christ can save the world.”

How is that for faith?  How is that for backwards math?

Never forget, you were saved, not by the math of this world, but by the math of mercy.  It is the math of the one you follow, the one who saved you: Jesus Christ our Lord.

Reflection on Matthew 18:21-35

Matthew 18:21-35 (NRSVue)

21 Peter came and said to [Jesus,] “Lord, if my brother or sister sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” 22 Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.

  23 “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. 24 When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him, 25 and, as he could not pay, the lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions and payment to be made. 26 So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ 27 And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. 28 But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him by the throat he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ 29 Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ 30 But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. 31 When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. 32 Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. 33 Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ 34 And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. 35 So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

Reflection

“How often should I forgive?  As many as seven times?” (Matthew 18:21)

“Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:22).

Seven is a lot if you think about it.  If the restaurant messed up my order seven times in a row, I wouldn’t be going back.  In fact, if they messed it up three times in a row, I would be done.  I do not think that I am alone.  In our culture we have the notion of “three strikes and you are out.”  It is a baseball metaphor, translated over into our culture and our laws.  If you break the same law three times, you do not get another chance.  You will have to do the jail time or pay the fine.  There is no more forgiveness. 

Considering that, seven is a lot.  In fact, the same way that the number three just feels right in our culture for the amount of chances someone gets to get it right, so too seven felt right and complete in Peter’s time.  Seven was the magic number.  Seven meant wholeness.  Six felt like it was seven’s younger brother, and eight was seven’s older sister with makeup pancaked all over her face; just being way, way over the top.  Seven felt just right.

So, Peter offers that maybe seven times should be the amount of times that a person should forgive someone who hurts us and then comes back seeking forgiveness.  It makes sense.  It seems generous even.

Jesus disagrees.

“Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:22).  As if seventy-seven times was not bad enough, it is possible that is an incorrect translation.  The true translation might actually be, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy times seven” (Matthew 18:22).  In case you are wondering, that is 490 times that you need to forgive the same person. 

This is not the first time that forgiveness for 490 times can be found in the Bible.  In Genesis 4:23-24, Lamech, a murderous person, declares that if his ancestor Cain was avenged seven times by those who would harm him, surely God would avenge him seventy times seven times: that is 490 times.  Jesus is intentionally drawing our minds to Lamech when he talks about how many times we must forgive.  It is like saying in our own time that God can even forgive Hitler.  God can even forgive Lamech.  Jesus is proposing a shocking amount of forgiveness.  But sometimes we need a shocking amount of forgiveness.

That makes me remember a young woman at a funeral.  As most of you know, I prefer that a family member or a friend offer up the eulogy instead of myself.  After-all, it is family and friends who know their loved one the best.  And at this funeral a daughter offered to speak the eulogy for her father. 

As she walked up to the front of the funeral home, she was dressed well in a business suite and had the demeanor of a manager or CEO.  One of the first things that she mentioned was that just ten years prior she probably would have walked up there, dirty, in tatters of clothes with deep sunken eyes.  “I was doing everything I could to ruin my life” she said.  “And more to the point, I was actively working on ruining my father’s life.  I was stealing again and again to support my terrible habits.  I even stole my late mother’s anniversary necklace from my father’s nightstand and sold it that very night.  But, no matter how many times I stole and said I was sorry, my father never gave up on me.  Like Jesus, he forgave and forgave and forgave again.  One day it finally clicked, I stopped my destructive ways, and my father helped me get back on my feet.  For that…”  She broke down into tears.  Through the tears she finished, “For that I will forever be grateful.  I hope that I can become even a fraction of the kind of person that he was.”

I do not think that anything better could have ever been said about someone at a funeral than what was said about her father.  He was forgiving in the way that Jesus meant forgiveness.  Whether or not to forgive is not a question followers of Jesus think about.  Forgiving 490 times means that we live a life where forgiveness is simply a given.

Forgiveness seems to be a given for God after-all.  How many times did God’s people fail and God allowed them to try again and again?  I have not counted, but it must be hundreds, if not thousands of times.  For God, forgiveness is a given in life.  1 John 1:9 reinforces this truth about God: “If we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”  Forgiveness is a way of life.  Forgiveness came from Jesus’ lips as he hung on the cross at the very end of his life, his enemies surrounding him with scorn: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34).

Love like that, forgiveness like that, is deep and powerful and eternal.  Forgiveness is the heart of God.  Forgiveness is the base of existence upon which we stand.

I think that is why the parable that Jesus tells about the king who forgives a slave is so powerful.  In it a slave falls to his knees and begs for mercy when he finds out that all he has will be sold to settle his enormous debts with the king, even his wife and children will be sold.  Matthew 18:27 reads, “And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt.”  The king showed the man forgiveness.

That would have been a nice story about forgiveness if it stopped right there.  But this is not a nice story, and it does not stop there.  You see, the Bible says “that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him by the throat he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’  Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’  But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt” (Matthew 18:28-30).  The king was not very happy and “handed [the slave] over to be tortured until he would pay this entire debt” (Matthew 18:34).  Then Jesus comments, “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart” (Matthew 18:35).

Just the other day, someone asked me about this very verse with trepidation.  “I have a hard time forgiving someone who hurt me.  Is the Lord angry with me?  Will I be punished?”  When the story is about us being forgiven, it is one of the greatest, most joyful stories in the Bible.  But, when we get to the part about forgiving others, the story can get…well…as a classmate of mine always said, “that was uncomfortable.” 

Here is the thing.  If forgiveness is the very foundation of our lives upon which we stand, then refusing to forgive while standing on forgiveness is kind of like living a lie, is it not? 

Let us see if this helps.  I once heard about a quilting group that loved to get together and make quilts for the homeless throughout the world.  It was a wonderful group with a wonderful ministry.  They would place the quilts over the backs of the pews one Sunday each year before the quilts were sent away so that those beautiful, patchwork creations could be appreciated and covered in blessing and prayer during worship. 

Well, there was one member of this group who came every week, sat on a folding chair in the middle of the quilters, and very obviously and intentionally did not quilt.  She sat and complained the whole time while everyone made creations that would keep people warm.  “Why would anyone take so much time for a homeless person?  Just buy a cheap blanket at the Dollar General.  It will be just as warm.”  And if she was ever asked to help grab some more strips of fabric for someone she would act as if bringing over the fabric was like pulling the Titanic up from the bottom of the sea.  Most of the time she would just pretend like she did not hear the request.

“Why are you even here if you don’t like quilting?” one of the quilters finally asked.

And I think that forgiveness works much the same way.  Why are we a part of a forgiveness group, Christianity, if we have no interest in forgiving?  Christians gather in forgiveness so that they can go out and forgive.  It is that simple.

So, yes, sometimes it is hard to forgive.  And yes, the people do not deserve to be forgiven.  But Jesus did not forgive us because we deserved it.  Jesus forgave us because Jesus is forgiving.  Therefore, we do not forgive because someone deserves it.  We forgive because forgiveness is a part of who we are; it is who God created us to be.

And who knows, maybe one day someone will stand up at your funeral and say that they are where they are in life because you never gave up on them and you were always ready to forgive.  And standing beside you, looking down on the scene, God will say to you, “Well done good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:23).

Reflection on Genesis 1:1-2:4a and John 1:1-5

 

John 1:1-5 (NRSVue)

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.

Reflection

There is one thing that I want you to remember about God who was the creator of both the widest expanses of the universe and the creator of the tiniest mammal, the Etruscan shrew, weighing just 1.8 grams.  I want you to remember that God looked at everything that God had made and saw that “it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). 

That means that the light that God created is good; just ask those lost at sea.  Light is a very good thing to see when lost at sea.

That means that the moon that God created is good; just ask the astronauts who landed on the moon.  They were quite happy to find that the surface did not consist of quicksand.  The moon is good.

That means that even the mosquito that God created must be good in some inexplicable way; just ask the frog who especially yearns to taste the red-filled juicy ones.  As much as I hate to say it, even the mosquito is good…for food.

And if the mosquito was created good, that means that the other bloodsucking jerks in your life must have been created good as well.  Jesus taught us to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44).  Jesus did not simply pull that idea out of thin air.  The idea that even our enemies are worthy of love and worthy of time dedicated to them in prayer is fundamental to the very fabric of creation.  People may act in junky ways, but God does not create junk.  Therefore, we do not ever get to treat them like junk.  No matter what junky things they might have done, we do not get to treat them like junk.  They are not junk.

God does not create junk, and followers of Jesus do not get the luxury of forgetting that.

Liam was eight years old and, unfortunately, he was convinced that he was junk.

He was not fast like Jordan. He was not funny like Maya. He was not good at drawing like Emma. And he definitely was not brave like his little sister, who climbed trees like she had wings.

One Saturday morning, after a week of feeling like he messed up everything he touched, Liam sat on the back steps of his house and kicked at the dirt. A cloud of dust puffed up and clung to his new white shoes.

“Figures,” he muttered. “I’m made of dust; it might as well stick to me.  I’m just dust. I’m nothing special.”

His grandmother, who had come outside to water her tomato plants, heard his muttering. She set down her watering can and sat beside him.

“What’s this about dust?” she asked.

Liam shrugged. “The Bible says God made us from dust. And dust is… nothing. It’s junk. I’m junk.”

His grandmother casually reached down, scooped a handful of the dry earth, and let it sift through her fingers.

“Do you know what this dust can become?” she asked.

Liam shook his head.

“With a little water, this dust can become clay. Clay can become a pot that carries water. Clay can become a bowl that feeds a family. Clay can become a lamp that brings light. Dust is only junk if nobody touches it. But when God touches dust it becomes something good; it becomes something with a purpose.”

She looked in his eyes and said, “God has touched you with divine fingers, shaping and molding you into a person with purpose.”

Liam looked down at the ground again. “I’m pretty sure I mess up too much.”

Grandma leaned closer. “Liam, listen to me. God never created junk. Not ever. When God made you, it was not a mistake. God is shaping you into a masterpiece even now.”

She pointed to the tomato plants—green, tall, full of fruit.

“Do you know what these started as?” she asked.

“Seeds,” Liam said.

“Tiny seeds. Smaller than your fingernail. But God made them good—and they grew, full of juicy, wonderful goodness. And you are made good. You are growing to be full of goodness just like these tomatoes.”

Liam was quiet for a moment. Then he scooped up a handful of dust.

“Maybe I’m not junk,” he said softly.

His grandmother whispered, “You’re God’s dust, sweetheart; molded and shaped for a purpose.”

Liam tucked the handful of dust into his pocket as if it were treasure. He felt better.  God had made him good.  God was still shaping him into something good, to do good.  He could live with that.

Genesis 1:27 tells us that “God created humans in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”  But it is Genesis 2:7 where God is described as creating the first human in the same way a potter fashions some pottery from the dust. “Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being” (Genesis 2:7).

Just as a clay jar is created and shaped to hold precious water, we too are shaped and created by God for a purpose.  John 1:3 tells us that the Word, the wisdom of God, brought “all things…into being, and without him not one thing came into being.  What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.  The light shines in the darkness” (John 1:3-5). 

We are created for life.  We were created with light.  Even science tells us that we were created from the dust of stars.  We are created with light, to be light, to be goodness.  The wisdom of God, the Word of God decided that it would be good to create you.  You are created good so that you can create goodness.

Have you ever thought about that?  Have you ever considered that all you create is for the purpose of goodness, just as God created everything to be good?

What I mean is that God created us good so that we might create goodness wherever we are found in the world. 

The reformer, Martin Luther, taught this very thing.  He said, “The Christian shoemaker does his duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes, because God is interested in good craftsmanship.”

Godly artists create works of art that draw us toward goodness and love.

Godly bread makers create bread that nourishes and feeds the hungry.

Godly law enforcement keep the peace in the most merciful and good way possible.

Godly teachers create an environment where children can find and use the good gifts that God placed within.

God created you good so that you might create goodness.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it” (John 1:5).

We are created for goodness.  That idea is what troubled Alfred Bernhard Nobel late in life.  As a young man, Alfred became fascinated with nitroglycerin, a dangerously unstable explosive. He spent years experimenting until he discovered how to stabilize it, eventually creating dynamite in 1867. This invention made him one of the wealthiest men of his time.

But his success came with tragedy. In 1864, an explosion at the family’s factory killed his younger brother. The personal harm that his creation caused haunted him for years.

Late in life, Alfred read a premature obituary published by a French newspaper that mistook him for his deceased brother. It called him “the merchant of death” for creating explosives used in warfare.

Inspired by his many letters with Catholic pacifist Bertha von Suttner, Alfred chose to include a Peace Prize in his will.  In it, he directed that his fortune be used to establish prizes for physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, and, most surprisingly, peace. He could not undo the creation of explosives, but he could use the fruit of that creation to make an award that sought to advance peace.  God created Alfred good so that he might create something good.

God does not create junk. 

God created us good and created us for goodness.

God saves us out of God’s own goodness.

And, just maybe, when God looks at what we create and the goodness that our creation spreads into the world, God will look at our creations and say, “Your creations are very good.  You are very good.  Now rest in the goodness of my arms.”