Sunday, March 29, 2015

Eye Level


The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
March 29, 2015
Palm Sunday

Eye Level
Mark 11:1-11

When they were approaching Jerusalem,
at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives,
he sent two of his disciples and said to them,
“Go into the village ahead of you,
and immediately as you enter it,
you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden;
untie it and bring it.
If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’
just say this,
‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’”
They went away and found a colt tied near a door,
outside in the street.
 As they were untying it,
some of the bystanders said to them,
“What are you doing, untying the colt?”
They told them what Jesus had said;
and they allowed them to take it.
Then they brought the colt to Jesus
and threw their cloaks on it;
and he sat on it.
Many people spread their cloaks on the road,
and others spread leafy branches
that they had cut in the fields.
Then those who went ahead and
those who followed were shouting,
“Hosanna!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple;
and when he had looked around at everything,
as it was already late,
he went out to Bethany with the twelve.

**********************************

All the Palm Sunday stories tell us
that Jesus rode “a colt”, a donkey,
(Matthew 21: 2, Luke 18:28);
and not just any donkey,
but a young donkey,
(John 12:14),
an animal not fully grown,
a donkey so small that Jesus’ sandaled feet
must have dragged along the road
as he sat on the colt’s back.

Jesus rode the animal perhaps
to fulfill the prophecy of Zechariah,
a prophecy uttered in hope
more than 500 years before Jesus’ birth,
following the restoration of the children of Israel
back to their land after their release
from captivity under the Babylonians:

Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!
Lo, your king comes to you;
triumphant and victorious is he,
humble and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim
and the war-horse from Jerusalem;
and the battle bow shall be cut off,
and he shall command peace to the nations;
his dominion shall be from sea to sea,
and from the River to the ends of the earth.
(Zechariah 9:9-10)

The king coming humbly,
riding not a majestic horse,
but a humble donkey;
In fact, not even a donkey,
but a colt, the foal of a donkey,
an animal barely big enough to carry a man.

The small size of the animal,
I have to believe,
was important to Jesus not just to evoke
Zechariah’s prophecy;
and not just as a symbol of Jesus’ humility;
but for practical reasons,
for logistical reasons.

On the back of such a small creature,
with his feet scuffing the dust and the stones,
Jesus would have been at eye level
with all the people,
all the people who lined the Jericho road
on the eastern side of Jerusalem,
the road that wound around the Mount of Olives
past the Garden of Gesthemane
as it led to the entry gate by the Temple.

If there was a road that encouraged celebration,
it was surely the Jericho road.
After all, the road on the other side of the city,
the road that led in from the west,
went past the terrifying hill of Golgotha,
planted with its crosses,
Rome’s preferred executioner’s tool,
a grim reminder of the empire’s
power and authority.

We are not sure just how many people
lined the Jericho road on that first Palm Sunday
waving their palm branches
and shouting out their, “Hosannas!”
But the mood surely was festive,
spirits surely were high.

The shouting was loud enough
and boisterous enough
to annoy and exasperate the Pharisees,
the religious leaders;
to them it seemed that, “all the world
had gone after Jesus to follow him.”
(John 12:19)

All the world did seem like it was shouting out,
Blessed is the one who comes
in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the coming kingdom
of our ancestor David!
The Lord is God and he has given us light.
The stone that the builders rejected
has become the chief cornerstone.
This is the Lord’s doing;
it is marvelous in our eyes.
Bind the festal procession with branches,
up to the horns of the altar.
Open to me the gates of righteousness,
that I may enter through them
and give thanks to the Lord.”

But of course, Jesus wasn’t interested
in celebration or adulation.
He knew that as he rode along
and looked into the eyes of those
who were shouting their hosannas
that many, perhaps most,
were simply caught up in the moment,
caught up in the excitement.

It was, after all, a holiday,
the Passover,
and those who were there
were free of everyday concerns and worries,
as they gathered to celebrate
what the faithful had celebrated
for more than thousand years.

Jesus surely knew that most of those
who lined the road,
most of those he looked at so closely,
so deeply,
would raise their voices again
in just a few short days,
not with, “Hosanna,
blessed is the one who comes
in the name of the Lord!”,
but with,
“Crucify him!
Away with him!
Release Barabbas!
Crucify him!”
(Luke 23: 18; John 19:15)

As Jesus bounced and bumped along
on the back of that diminutive animal
he looked into the eyes of those
who sang his praises
as they waved their palm branches,
men and women who shouted with joy
in the bright midday sun;
men and women who would in just a few days
join their voices to seal his fate
on the other side of town,
on the other road,
that road that led to Golgotha.

But we know, don’t we,
without the gospel writers even telling us,
that Jesus didn’t look upon the people
with judgment or anger or condemnation.

Jews and Romans and Greeks,
and Samaritans and Ethiopians,
men and women, boys and girls,
those who spoke his own language,
those who spoke in other tongues,
those who hailed from Jerusalem
or nearby towns
and those who had journeyed from far distant places.

We know, don’t we,
that as Jesus rode along
with his gaze fixed on God,
his eyes were fixed on each person;
one by one, each child of God,
Jesus saying to each with his eyes,
“You are precious.
You are honored.
You are forgiven.
You are loved.”

The living Jesus,
our Risen Lord,
looks upon you and me here and now
in the same way.
                          
We are no different from the people who
lined the Jericho road so long ago.
We are men and women who try to live by faith,
but who, if we are honest and humble,
won’t hesitate to acknowledge
how often we fall short.
                                            
Had we lived 2000 years ago,
we too might have been
part of the group shouting “hosannas”
along the road that Sunday;
and we too might have been part of the group
that would later shout out,
“Crucify!”

But the good news is this,
just as the psalmist has told us:
The Lord is God and he has given us light,
light in our Lord Jesus Christ,
light we are called to follow,
light that leads us to mercy,
and grace, and love.

Do you see?
The light shines brightly,
so brightly even the shadow of the cross
cannot darken it:
Our King comes to us,
humble and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey
riding so he can look us in the eye,
each of us,
you and me,
look us in the eye…
to tell us we are loved.

AMEN

Sunday, March 22, 2015

The Healing Balm


The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
March 22, 2015
Fifth Sunday in Lent
Service of Wholeness

The Healing Balm
Jeremiah 8:22

Is there no balm in Gilead?
Is there no physician there?
Why then has the health of my poor people
not been restored?
***********************
Gilead was a region along the east side
of the river Jordan.
It ran the length of the river from the Sea of Galilee
down to the Dead Sea.
                 
It had been known as a region
that produced healing balms, oils, and ointments,
long even before Jeremiah
sang his lament some 600 years
before the birth of our Lord.

In fact, we find a reference to Gilead
in the very first book of the Bible,
the Book of Genesis, a reference to
“… a caravan of Ishmaelites
coming from Gilead,
with their camels carrying gum,
balm, and resin,
on their way to carry it down to Egypt.”
(Genesis 37:25)
It is a reference that dates back before Moses,
back to the days of Isaac and Jacob and Joseph.

Jeremiah speaks for God wanting to heal God’s children,
heal them not of their cuts and their scrapes,
their physical wounds,
but of their waywardness.
As the spiritual song tells us,
the people needed healing
for their “sin sick souls”.

These were not “bad” people.
They were not criminals;
they were not vicious murderers.
But they had turned from God;
they were lost in faithlessness.

They denied it, of course;
denied vigorously
that they had turned from God,
that they needed healing.
They protested
that they were men and women of great faith,
honest and upright,
good and compassionate.

But God knew better.
God knew that the people
were deceiving only themselves.
And so God longed for their healing.

God longs for the healing of all his children.
God longs for all his children
to know wholeness and peace;
wholeness and peace that comes from faithfulness,
and from honesty before God.

The 40 days of Lent is God’s gift to us
to help us focus on our own need for healing,
for we are no different from the people
Jeremiah spoke to so long ago.
And our healing begins with repentance,
begins with our acknowledging our waywardness;
our acknowledging that we don’t want to be
like the people back in Jeremiah’s day,
people who “went astray but did not turn back.”
(Jeremiah 8:4)

God also knows we need healing
from the vicissitudes,
the ups and downs,
the twists and turns of every-day life;
the daily struggles we face that can knock us down,
that can scar, wound,
and sometimes injure deeply.

Relationships that sour;
hopes that are dashed,
ambition that is frustrated,
health that goes wrong,
sometimes terribly wrong.
Worry, anxiety,
fear, grief,
despair, shame.
stress, and more stress:
In the home, in school, in the workplace.

No one goes through life unwounded,
No one goes through life unscarred.

But our Lord stands with us,
ready with healing balm for our spirits,
a balm that can restore hope,
a balm that can lead us back to the path of joy.
“Come to me, all you who are weary
and carrying heavy burdens,
and I will give you rest,”
says our Lord Jesus Christ.
(Matthew 11:28)

If you cut yourself,
your wound will heal –
with time and care.
And so it is for those wounds
that are deep below the surface.
With God’s help, those wounds too can heal;
not in an instant, like water to wine,
but with time,
with work,
with faith,
and with God’s help.

God’s promise is sure.
As God said through the prophet Isaiah,
“I will heal them;
 Peace, peace, to the far and the near,
… I will heal them.
(Isaiah 57:18)

We can find healing in God’s love,
God’s grace given us in Jesus Christ
because we are God’s beloved.
“Do not fear, says the Lord our God,
for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name,
you are mine.
You are precious in my sight,
and honored, and I love you.”
(Isaiah 43:2ff)

What is it in your life that needs the healing balm
of God’s love,
the healing balm of Christ’s presence,
the healing balm of the Spirit’s fresh breeze?

Healing can begin here, now
at our Lord’s Table
as we are renewed and refreshed in Spirit.
                          
And healing can continue in community,
within the Body of Christ.
And this morning each circle reflects the body,
each circle is the body,
the community of Christ.

As we share Communion,
ask for God’s healing Spirit to wash over you.
Trust that just as a cut or scrape will in time heal,
the deepest scars within can also heal.
“God is the source of our strength,
and hope
and courage
with which we are helped in our time of need.”
(Rabbi Harold Kushner)

God will not eliminate your problems or mine;
What God will do is foster healing;
as Jesus walks with you,
to remind you that God’s everlasting,
everloving arms are beneath you,
supporting you, lifting you up.

It is no exaggeration to say
that there are times in our lives
when the very air we breathe
can feel scorched and scorching.
(T. Loder)
But God is with us – you and me –
with his cooling soothing balm of love,
balm of hope,
balm of healing.

Let us pray:
“To you, O God,
we lift up our souls, our hearts, our lives.
In you, O God, and you alone, we trust….
Incline your ear to us,
for in you we find refuge,
in you we find hope,
in you we find strength,
in you we find peace.
You are the God of our salvation.
In your presence there is fullness of joy;
in your presence there is healing;

Empty us of both pride and pain
and lead us to wholeness,
lead us to peace,
lead us to that peace which surpasses
all understanding,
that peace that comes from you
through your Son,
our healing Lord,
Jesus the Christ.
In his name we pray.                                                   
Amen
(From Psalms 25 & 31)

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Poured Out, Filled Up


The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
March 15, 2015
Fourth Sunday in Lent
Reaffirmation of the Baptismal Covenant

Poured Out, Filled Up
Luke 3:21-22

Now when all the people were baptized,
and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying,
the heaven was opened,
and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.
And a voice came from heaven,
“You are my Son, the Beloved;
with you I am well pleased.”

**********************************
In the baptismal prayer I offer
you hear me say,
“Pour out your Holy Spirit upon
the one who is to be baptized
that he or she may have the power to do your will,
and continue forever in the risen life of Christ.”

You heard me pray that just a few minutes ago
for Katie and Sophie:
“Pour out your Holy Spirit upon them” --
“Pour out your Holy Spirit, Lord
and fill them as they come up out of
the waters of baptism,
in the same way the Spirit filled your Son
as he came up out of the waters of the Jordan.”

In the liturgy of baptism
we celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit
given us by the grace of God;
the Spirit of God filling our hearts,
our minds;
the Spirit poured out by God to fill us.
                                                              
Most of us were baptized at such a young age,
that we don’t remember the prayers and promises
made in our baptisms.
Even as watch a baptism now,
it’s too easy to be distracted by
the child being baptized,
especially if it is an infant.

Who can listen to the words
when we’re wondering whether
the baby will suddenly decide
loudly and furiously,
that he or she would rather be anywhere else
than in the minister’s arms?

Even I find myself distracted
when I watch other pastors preside at baptisms.
I tend to watch vocationally:
how do they handle themselves and the baby;
what do they do if a meltdown happens;
Do they dry their hands on their robes?

It’s why we have a service like this,
a service to provide us all with the opportunity
to hear anew the words of baptism,
to listen carefully to the promises made,
to the covenant that binds us with God
through baptism.

We hear:
“In baptism, God claims us and seals us
to show that we belong to God.
God frees us from sin and death,
uniting us with Jesus Christ
in his death and resurrection.
By water and the Holy Spirit,
we are made members of the church,
the Body of Christ,
and joined to Christ’s ministry of love,
peace, and justice.”

Did you hear those words, those promises?
God claims us.
God frees us from sin and death.
God unites us with Christ
in his death and his resurrection
as we go under the water,
die to the old ways, and come back up
born to new life in Christ.

We are made members of Christ’s
holy catholic church –
the church universal.
All those who profess their faith in Christ,
regardless of denomination or country or culture,
are now our brothers and sisters.
We are joined in a ministry of love,
in which “barriers of race, gender, status,
nationality, history, practice, age –
all are overcome, all are transcended.”

All that in just a few minutes,
with just a few drops of water,
and just a few words spoken.
An everlasting covenant of love is made
by the grace of God in Jesus Christ.

But, there’s more:
God then pours out his Holy Spirit upon us
to fill us, guide us,
energize us, teach us, assure us.
The Spirit helps us to know Christ,
to follow Christ,
to understand what it means
to be born to new life through our baptism.

As we go through the litany in a few moments,
listen to the words,
pay attention to them,
think about what you are saying and why.

Baptism is something we do in community,
but the litany is intentionally personal.
You will hear the covenant God made with you
in your baptism.  

When you come up in a few minutes,
feel the water:
the water that gives life;
the water that washes us clean in our baptisms;
the water from which we – you and me –
and now Katie and Sophie
have been given new life in Jesus Christ.

Keep the stone as a reminder that
you have been filled with the Spirit of God,
the very breath of God,
and that God’s Spirit is always with you
to refresh, renew,
strengthen, comfort,
reassure, guide,
instruct,
direct your steps,
including directing your steps back to God
when you stray – as we all do.

The stones are larger this year,
big enough to have the words,
“Holy Spirit” engraved on them,
Keep your stone on your dresser,
your desk, a kitchen windowsill –
someplace you’ll see it each day,
especially at the start of your day
and the close,
to remind you that you are a child of God,
claimed by God,
and filled with the Holy Spirit.

And, of course, keep the stone as a symbol as well
of our Lord Jesus Christ,
for he is our “foundation stone, …
a precious cornerstone,
[our] sure foundation.”
(Isaiah 28:7)

Praise Father, Son and …Holy Spirit!

Sunday, March 08, 2015

Abundance


The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
March 8, 2015
Third Sunday in Lent

Abundance
Mark 6:30-44

It is familiar story, our lesson,
perhaps one of the most familiar stories
in the gospels: the story of the loaves and fishes.
It is a story we learn at a very young age
in Sunday School.
        
It is one of the few stories
that appears in all four gospels.
Not even Christmas can claim that:
we find the story of Jesus’ birth
in just two gospels: Matthew and Luke.

There are 6 different versions of this story!
Two in Mark (8:1-9);
two in Matthew (14:13-21; 15:32-39);
one in Luke (9:10-17);
and one in John (6:1-13).
The story line is the same,
but the details differ a bit in each version.

In our lesson we hear that
Jesus and his disciples fed “five thousand men”.
Matthew is more inclusive, telling us us that
“those who ate were about five thousand men,
besides women and children.”

In the second version of the story that appears
in Mark’s and Matthew’s gospels,
Jesus feeds four thousand.
Luke and John don’t include this story –
we don’t know why they didn’t.

Our lesson tells us that the disciples
had among themselves five loaves and two fish.
In the feeding of the four thousand
we are told they had seven loaves,
and “a few small fish”.

John’s version of this story
tells us that the disciples
apparently did not have a crumb among them,
but found a boy who had
“five barley loaves and two fish.”

In all the different texts,
Jesus has the people sit,
but in Mark’s and Luke’s gospels,
Jesus has the people sit in groups
of either fifty or one hundred.
Why?
Was it a precursor of our Protestant focus
on doing things decently and in order?

Scholars feast on the differences in the stories.
Do Mark and Matthew contain two different stories
to suggest, as some scholars believe,
that one meal was aimed at the Jewish community,
while the second was directed at Gentiles?

Is there symbolism in five loaves?
Two fish?
Seven loaves?  

Was it a miracle,
a true miracle,
in which Jesus took the little that he had,
and through the glory and majesty of God,
turned it into food for more than five thousand?

Or did Jesus simply gather the people in community,
strangers though they might have been;
And once they were in community,
did they simply begin to share what they had?
After all, travelers back in Jesus’ day
often did carry food with them –
typically bread and some salted, dried fish.

The verse that I think holds the crux of the lesson
is when Jesus says to his disciples,
“You give them something to eat.”
Matthew, Mark and Luke
all include those words
in their versions of the story:
You give them something to eat.

We can picture the reaction of the disciples,
can’t we,
as Jesus’ words settle on them:
“All these people; thousands of them,
and our Teacher is telling us
to give them something to eat?
How are we supposed to do that?”

The sheer impossibility of the task
Jesus handed them
was obvious to all the disciples,
so their response isn’t surprising:
“Are we to go and buy
two hundred denarii worth of bread,
and give it to them to eat?”

Presumably they didn’t need to explain to Jesus
that two hundred denarii
was almost a year’s wages,
and that whatever Judas might have had
in the common purse that he’d been tasked
to carry for all of them,
(John 12:6; 13:29)
it was certainly nowhere near that much.

There they were,
in what we are told is a “deserted place”,
and Jesus says to them,
“You give them something to eat.”
It doesn’t make any sense.
…Or does it?

Did any of the disciples think for a minute
about their ancestors in faith,
how they spent forty years in the wilderness,
and how they never lacked food,
wanted for food;
how God fed them with manna,
how God provided – even in the wilderness.

All of the disciples were focused on logic,
on the reality that lay before them:
all those people,
night falling,
and hardly enough food to feed the twelve,
much less the thousands.
Even a child would have understood
that there was no way the disciples
could have fed that many people.

You give them something to eat,
Oh, you of little faith.
(Matthew 8:26)

The eyes of the disciples were open,
and yet all they could see
was what they could or could not do;
None thought about what the Lord could do;
none saw in his mind’s eye
what the Lord had done
time and time again.
Why didn’t at least one think,
“If our Lord is telling us to give the people
something to eat,
then surely with God’s help,
we can do what the Lord asks of us.”

And indeed, Jesus would later rebuke them all,
Do you not perceive or understand?
…Do you have eyes and fail to see?
Do you have ears, and fail to hear?
Do you not remember?”
(Mark 8:17ff)

God graces us with abundance all around us;
then calls us to see to it
that the abundance is shared:
that no one goes without,
that all are fed, all have their thirst quenched.

The disciples so long ago;
you and me, here and now:
we are the ones through whom
our Lord’s work is done.
We are our Lord’s hands,
guided by the Holy Spirit.

Our Lord calls us to community
where we work together, cooperatively,
collaboratively, and most important,
compassionately, our hearts leading us,
helping us to hear what our Lord calls us to do,
what our Lord teaches us to do,
and then doing it confidently and faithfully.

Pack 10,000 meals?
Who would have imagined
that we could do such a thing?
And yet today we’ll pack more than 20,000 meals;
Share 4,000 pounds of food in a year’s time?
And yet last year we shared more than 6,000 pounds.
Raise $500,000 for needs we have here at MPC?

All things are possible for God,
and all things are possible with God.
Nothing we are called to do by our Lord is impossible.

In Matthew’s, Mark’s and Luke’s
version of the story,
after Jesus blesses the loaves and fish,
he has his disciples distribute the food
so they can see that they are indeed
the ones giving the people something to eat.
God provides;
but God works through you and me.

If, in our story, Jesus simply multiplied
the loaves and fish
that would have been a miracle,
without a doubt,
God at work.

Would it have been any less of a miracle,
any less God at work,
if the people simply shared what they had?
I think we could argue that that would have been
an even greater miracle:
friends and strangers,
young and old
the faithful and the seekers,
the locals and the foreigners,
all sharing what they had,
every person reaching into a bag,
a pouch,
the folds of a tunic
for some bread,
for some dried fish each had,
the sharing begun by the disciples.
        
John the Baptizer is the voice of Lent,
calling us, as he still does
even after all these years,
to look within and repent of our waywardness.
Doesn’t he teach us,
Whoever has two coats
must share with anyone who has none;
and whoever has food must do likewise.”
(Luke 3:11)

In this season of repentance
it should be easy to see where we go down
the wrong path when we start thinking
of all we have as ours,
thinking,
as Moses warned us so long ago we would think,
“My power and the might of my own hand
have got me this wealth.”
(Deuteronomy 8:17)
Or, as we might say today,
“I worked for what I have,
so it is all mine,
and I’ll decide when I share,
what I share,
how much I share
and with whom I share.”
                 
But all we have comes from God
who graces us with abundance.
And we are to see to it
that all share in the abundance.
And we are to do that without judging,
without criticizing those who have needs.
To pack meals on Sunday
and then on Monday criticize the poor
as lazy, unwilling to work,
that they have only themselves
to blame for their situation,
that isn’t to walk in faith,
that isn’t to live as Christ calls us to live.

The question for us as we go through our days
is not, What Would Jesus Do?
The question is,
What would Jesus have us do,
What does Jesus teach us to do;
What does Jesus call us to do:
Us – his disciples,
Us – his hands, doing his work,
speaking his words of grace and mercy.

You give them something to eat.”
says our Lord
You give them reason to hope.
You give them words of comfort.
You give them warmth,
You give them peace,
You give them love.”

It doesn’t matter who the “them” is.
All that matters is that we do
as our Lord teaches us to do,
give as our Lord teaches us to give,
for in giving hope,
comfort,
peace,
and love
we are giving them Christ.

AMEN

Sunday, March 01, 2015

Corrosion


The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson
Manassas Presbyterian Church
Manassas, Virginia
March 1, 2015
Second Sunday in Lent

Corrosion
Isaiah 1:18

“Come now, let us reason together,”
says the LORD.
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.”
**********************

Jesus asks much of us;
sometimes, it seems, too much,
and probably no more so than
when he expects us to forgive.

How can we possibly be expected
to forgive someone who has hurt us?
And I am not talking about someone
who has just been a minor irritant;
I’m talking about someone who has caused
searing, stabbing pain
that courses through our body,
leaving us emotionally wounded,
even to the point of despair.

How can we be expected to forgive someone
who has caused so much pain?
Especially if the person hasn’t asked for forgiveness,
if the person isn’t repentant;
if the person even denies causing any harm?

And yet there stands our Lord
saying to us,  
“Just as God has forgiven you,
so you also must forgive.”

The person who lies about us,
who humiliates us,
who pushes us around,
who bullies us –
and bullying isn’t limited to young people;
Adults bully adults.
The person who hits,
who steals,
who injures,
who destroys.

It may be a person we know well;
It may be a person we don’t know at all –
The demand on us is the same:
We are to forgive.

Jesus calls us to forgive
because he knows that forgiving is best for us,
for you and me.
In forgiveness lies wholeness and healing.
Jesus knows that holding onto anger and pain
is corrosive;
it eats away at us,
and Jesus wants us to let go of that pain.

The Reverend Barbara Brown Taylor has written,
“there is a terrible side effect
in refusing to forgive:
it is called bitterness,
and it can do terrible things
to the human body and soul.
It can have a corrosive effect,
eating away at our heart,
our ability to love,
to reach out,
to live as Christ calls us to live.”

And so Jesus calls us to forgive,
to stop the corrosion,
to start the healing.

Forgiveness doesn’t require repentance
on the part of the other person.
Forgiveness is something we can do on our own.
Rebuilding the relationship,
rebuilding trust that was lost in the injury –
though, that does require work
on the part of both;
It takes two to rebuild trust.
But it takes only one to forgive – you.

Read through Old and New Testaments
and count the number of times
God forgives his wayward children.
Time and time and time again;
Story after story;
lesson after lesson;
parable after parable:
God forgives,
and teaches us that we too are to forgive.

There in our lesson,
God is saying to his children
“As bad as your sins are,
though your sinfulness has stained you like blood,
I will forgive you,
and wash you clean.”

In teaching us to pray,
Jesus teaches us to forgive:
And forgive us our sins
as we forgive those who sin against us.”
Jesus reinforces the lesson with his words,
“For if you forgive others their trespasses,
your heavenly Father will also forgive you;
but if you do not forgive others,
neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”
(Matthew 6:14)

The Yale theologian Miraslov Wolf is right
with his observation:
“Forgiveness is unconditional.
It is not based on what the other person did or said.
[or who the other person is];
… It is what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ.
… it is the heart of the Christian way of life.”

“Come, let us reason it out,”
says the Lord our God.
Let’s neither of us hold onto anger,
bitterness, resentment.
Let’s both of us banish words like,
“vengeance,”
“revenge,”
“payback,”
“getting even”.

Jesus calls us to new life
that leaves behind “an-eye-for-an-eye”
as much as we might like that idea.
A cartoon in The New Yorker has one person
saying to another,
“I find it much easier to forgive
after I’ve had my revenge.”
Isn’t that how we all feel?
But that isn’t the life we are called to by Christ.

No, we are called to forgive –
as hard as it might be.
Henri Nouwen,
the author of our Lenten devotional,
acknowledges as much, writing:
“Forgiveness from the heart is very difficult. …
very difficult.
[But it is] through forgiveness,
that we become more like our Father in Heaven.
[And] God’s forgiveness is unconditional.
Forgiveness isn’t to ignore wrongdoing;
it is, rather overcoming
[anger, bitterness
and corrosive hostility] inside us …
with love.”

In one of my Lenten devotional books
I found this story of forgiveness:
There is an old legend that after his death
Judas found himself at the bottom of a
deep and slimy pit.
For thousands of years he wept his repentance,
and when the tears were finally spent
he looked up and saw, way, way up,
a tiny glimmer of light.
After he had contemplated it
for another thousand years or so,
he began to try to climb up towards it.
The walls of the pit were dank and slimy,
and he kept slipping back down.
Finally, after great effort, he neared the top,
and then he slipped and fell
all the way back down.
It took him many years to recover,
and then he started to climb up again.
After many more falls and efforts and failures
he reached the top and
dragged himself into an upper room
with twelve people seated around a table.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Judas,” Jesus said.
“We couldn’t begin till you came.”
(from Madeleine L’Engle)

Our Lord Jesus Christ
forgives the man who betrayed him,
Judas, the man who sent Jesus to the cross
for thirty pieces of silver.
It may be a story, a fable,
but doesn’t it make sense;
isn’t that just what Jesus would do?

As you come to this Table,
think of who you need to forgive:
A friend;
a family member;
someone at work;
possibly even a stranger;
possibly even yourself –
for we all need to forgive ourselves.

Think of the pain,
think of the corrosive bitterness
that you’d like to let go.

Then come to this Table
and find forgiveness.
Come to this Table and find mercy.  

Come to this Table and find grace;
Come to this Table and find love;
Come to this Table and find peace.

For here at this Table,
you’ll find Christ.

AMEN