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Forgiveness

March 31, 2019

Helen Jacobi

Lent 4     Joshua 5:9-12     Psalm 32     2 Corinthians 5:16-21     Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

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On Friday morning during the National Memorial Service for the victims of the Christchurch terrorist attack the crowd stood and clapped and clapped. They applauded words of compassion and forgiveness from Farid Ahmed who was a survivor of the attack and whose wife was killed by the gunman. Mr Ahmed preached a sermon really, on forgiveness. With a strong voice, a compassionate voice, he chanted verses of the Quran and explained them to the crowd. He said simply if I want to be a person of faith then I must forgive; if I do not show mercy and forgive then I cannot be a true follower of the prophet Muhammed (and the prophets who came before, including Jesus, peace be upon them).

 

He said “I do not want to have a heart boiling like a volcano with hatred, fury and rage, burning within and burning the surroundings. I want a heart that will be full of love, care and mercy, and forgive lavishly.”

 

Then he went on to say each human being is my brother and sister, including the gunman; “this is my faith”, he said. [1]

 

Challenging words – the gunman is also his brother? How could he possibly forgive him so soon? The challenge or shock of those words is similar to the way the crowd would have reacted listening to Jesus’ parable of the father and his two sons. This parable is about lavish forgiveness. Forgiveness that makes no sense.

 

Today’s parable is usually called “the prodigal son”; prodigal meaning wasteful, extravagant, irresponsible and self indulgent. Naming the parable this ways focuses our attention on the son who asks for the share of his inheritance and then goes and spends it all. This focus fits our western, capitalist worldview where we focus on income, work ethics and contributing to the economy (nothing wrong with that – but it is just one focus).

 

If we take a step back and look instead with the worldview of Jesus our storyteller we see different things. So set aside the “prodigal son” title in your minds and think simply of a father and two sons.

 

The son comes to the father and asks for his inheritance; which is like saying Dad, I wish you were dead, but since you are not can I have my share of the farm anyway. Great family dynamic going on there – Barbara Brown Taylor calls this passage “the parable of the dysfunctional family.” [2]

 

Emmy Kegler asks “what is so broken in this family that the second son leaves?” “where is the mother?” and why does the father give in? [3] Kegler says if you are the one seen in your family as the “black sheep,” the one who is lost, you want to ask: why did the father not do more to keep the son close – why did he let him go?

 

If you are a farmer you would ask why would anyone carve up their land and sell it to meet the demands of one son? The farmers of Jesus’ time would certainly be shocked – who would do such a crazy thing?

 

Then the son goes off and surprise, surprise, lives it up, spends all he has and ends up penniless. Think for a moment about what you remember from the reading of the parable and answer the question – why does the son “begin to be in need” as the parable puts it.

 

Why is he starving?

  • because he wasted everything

  • because there was a famine

  • because no one helped him

 

A writer, Mark Powell [4], tested this question on students in different cultures and countries and discovers that the answer to the question depends on your context. If you are an American you tend to answer a) because he wasted everything. If you are a Russian from St Petersburg with the memory of the 1941 seige and famine in your heritage you answer b) because there was a famine.

 

If you are a student from Tanzania schooled in hospitality for the stranger you answer c) because no one helped him. All three answers are in the text.

 

For all of these reasons the younger son is starving and travels home – maybe I can work on my father’s farm he thinks. He has his confession all worked out but before he can speak the words the father runs to him and calls for the best robe and ring to clothe him and orders a feast. “This son of mine who was lost is now found.” The father’s forgiveness is lavish.

 

That would be a good ending – but the story doesn’t end there. The elder son enters the story – the son who has stayed with his father, worked hard, done all the right things. He cannot accept that his father forgives his brother (he must have been building his resentment all this time – seeing a portion of the farm sold, while he continued to work). And he cannot accept that his father also loves him lavishly.

 

The father pleads with him to come and join the party “you are always with me, all that is mine is yours. We had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”

 

The story ends and we are left with a question – did the brother join the party? did he stay outside? Jesus does not say.

 

The parable is addressed to the Pharisees who were complaining about Jesus eating with sinners. Jesus is inviting the Pharisees to come join the party and eat with him and the “sinners”. The choice is theirs; the invitation is open. The ending to the parable will be provided by their actions – do they say yes and come and sit at the table or do they say no and stay standing in the courtyard with all their resentment brewing.

 

In a way the ending to the parable is found on Good Friday when the Pharisees take their resentment to the extreme and crucify Jesus. God’s answer to their ending is a different one – an answer involving life and resurrection and an invitation to again come to the table.

 

The cross and God’s forgiveness and embracing of evil with new life is at the heart of our faith. Is that what we would we say if we had to face the worst imaginable thing, if we were on that stage in Christchurch; is that what our creed be?

 

Mr Ahmed chanted verses from the Quran – we might choose a story of a father and two sons who were equally loved and who both in their own way rejected that love.

 

We might say how they were both forgiven and welcomed with rejoicing anyway. We could say our God is like that, our God welcomes us back again and again, no matter how hard we resist and fail.

 

Our God welcomes us to a table, where the feast is bread and wine, an offering of simple things which represent life itself. And we could say how we come every week to hear the invitation to the table and to share in the feast together and this is how we live our faith.

 

On Friday our Prime Minister said “do not leave the job of combatting hate to the government alone. We each hold the power, in our words and in our actions, in our daily acts of kindness.” [5]

 

In order to answer that call to combat hate we come here to seek forgiveness, forgiveness which is offered lavishly. We come to seek the support of our community as we live as best we can lives of faith and hope. We gather at the table and we rejoice because we were lost and have been found.

 

 

[1] https://www.newshub.co.nz/home/new-zealand/2019/03/christchurch-terror-attack-i-cannot-hate-him-shooting-survivor-farid-ahmed-s-moving-speech.html

 

[2] http://www.fourthchurch.org/sermons/2007/031807.html

 

[3] http://emmykegler.com/lost/?fbclid=IwAR1yaleTxk-zJ0-w4pbCz7Htbn55_8v9ZNbe_5PIQUq7MVMdDu9A0GQZMew

 

[4] Mark Alan Powell What do they hear? bridging the gap between pulpit and pew 2007 Abingdon Press, chapter 2

 

[5] https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/mar/29/jacinda-arderns-speech-at-christchurch-memorial-full-transcript

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