Forgive someone
Genesis 50.15-21, Matthew 18.21-35
Go home and forgive someone. That’s it. That’s all you need to hear. End of the sermon. The problem is, we don’t find it that easy. The wounds we have run deep; we cringe even at the thought of opening up the conversation with those who have hurt us; broken relationships are complicated, feeding off and feeding back into our vulnerability. Emotions like shame, anger, disgust, hatred, swim around. And then, just to make it worse, the preacher says we have to forgive – and guilt sets in. This is tough stuff.
Jesus, of course, was pretty blunt when Peter raised the topic of forgiveness. I think Peter had been listening to Jesus’ teaching and he understood that forgiveness is important. Maybe he was particularly irritated by his biological brother, Andrew, or by one of the other disciples, his spiritual brethren, but he probably thought he was being generous when he said, ‘Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?’ Jesus’ response is challenging, ‘Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.’ Jesus isn’t encouraging him to keep count – 69, 70, 71… I only have to forgive him 6 more times – no, Jesus is saying, just keep forgiving, on and on and on. Mercy is infinite.
You could have understood it if Joseph, the second most powerful man in Egypt, had had his brothers thrown in jail. They had, after all, been eaten up with jealousy, another powerful emotion, and had planned to kill him, until they had the idea of selling him into slavery. For years, he had been separated from his family, finally being reunited with his father when famine drove the family to Egypt. But when Jacob dies, old fears come to the surface – even after 17 years in Egypt, it seems that Joseph’s brothers are still uneasy in their relationship with their brother. Maybe he has only pretended to forgive them, for the sake of their father. Now Jacob is dead, will he exact his revenge?
Joseph, it seems, is pained by their lack of trust in him, the guilt and fear that they still harbour; he weeps. Or, maybe, he has been frosty in his relationship with them, for these many years, and now their cry for mercy convicts him of his unforgiveness. Humanly, it is quite likely that there are mixed emotions on both sides. But the catalyst is the brothers’ cry for mercy, framed with a clear acceptance of their responsibility, ‘forgive the crime of your brothers and the wrong they did in harming you’, although tinged with some very human emotional blackmail, ‘Your father gave this instruction before he died…’ The brothers are still hiding behind their father.
The brothers cry out for mercy - or, to put it more simply, they communicate. Communication is the key to reconciliation. Forgiveness can happen without communication; Joseph may have already forgiven his brothers, in his heart and before God. But whilst there is no communication, the maelstrom of emotions that may be experienced on either side will prevent reconciliation. A complete breakdown in communication, a frosty relationship, a lack of honesty, all of these can be sustained over the years. But if there is to be reconciliation, people need to speak to each other. And so, the brothers approached Joseph – tentatively, maybe, but it was a start. What would your first step be in communicating with the people you find it hard to forgive?
Of course, if there has been a breakdown in relationship, we may be worried about how we will be received. Joseph is in a position of power, but he doesn’t abuse that power…. ‘Am I in the place of God?’ They are, after all, brothers – and children of God. And, in the most theological part of the whole Joseph story, he says, ‘Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today.’
Here is a practical outworking of St Paul’s declaration in Romans, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” It may be impossible for us to believe it, but even the most painful circumstances of life can be redeemed by God.
Joseph turns his eyes towards God – and that is the direction Jesus points us, too, when he tells the parable of the unforgiving servant. It’s a dramatic story, told in response to Peter’s question. It contrasts the mercy shown by the king with the lack of pity exhibited by the servant, released from debt himself but demanding payment from others. ‘I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me,’ says the king, ‘Should you not have had mercy on your fellow-slave, as I had mercy on you?’
It is only as we recognise the extent of God’s mercy on us – to quote St Paul again, “how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,” (Ephesians 3.18) that we stand any chance of learning the art of forgiveness. God’s mercy inspires us to be merciful. Without this recognition, we will continue to suffer the side effects of hard and unyielding hearts, broken and unsatisfying relationships. The application is clear – go home and forgive someone. But maybe before we can do that, we need to look again into the loving eyes of our heavenly father and recognise and remember that he has, indeed, forgiven us all.