Be Careful When You Point the Finger

By The Very Rev. Sherry Crompton
September 28, 2008

Read: Matthew 21:23-32

In Matthew’s Gospel story today, we once again hear Jesus speaking with the chief priests and the elders of the people. I want to issue a challenge to all of us today about just who we think we are in this story; where we place ourselves.

It is easy to read this story in Matthew today and sit back and say, “You go, Jesus”. Those elders and chief priests aren’t living the life of faith they are supposed to live. You tell ‘em.

My challenge for us today is this: Be very careful about being smug and self-righteous and pointing that finger at someone else. Remember last week I quoted the scripture about removing the log from our own eye before trying to remove the speck from someone else’s. In today’s language, be careful when you point that finger because three others are pointed right back at you. My challenge is for us to put ourselves in the place of the chief priests, Pharisees and elders of the people when we read and hear these gospel stories. After all, the Christian church as we know it was not yet formed when the bible was written. The Christian community was just beginning to come together when Jesus walked this earth. Jesus’ way was to challenge the world as we know it, as each of us knows it. He often upset our ideas of what we think is right and wrong, what is fair and what is unfair.

The question of authority and it’s inherent challenge reminds me of this story, a version of which is told in nearly every tradition. Toni Morrison tells it this way:

Once upon a time, there was an old woman who was blind but wise. The daughter of slaves, black, American, living alone in a small house outside of town. Her reputation for wisdom is without peer and without question. Among her people she is both law and transgression. The honor she is paid and the awe in which she is held reach beyond her neighborhood to places far away; to the city where the intelligence of rural prophets is the source of much amusement.

One day the woman is visited by some young people who seem to be bent on disproving her clairvoyance and showing her up for the fraud they believe she is. Their plan is simple: they enter her house and ask the one question, the answer to which rides solely on her difference from them, a difference they regard as a profound disability: her blindness. They stand before her and one of them says, “Old woman, I hold in my hands a bird. Tell me whether it is living or dead”. She does not answer, and the question is repeated. “Is the bird I am holding living or dead?”

Still she does not answer. She is blind and cannot see her visitors, let alone what is in their hands. She does not know their color, gender or homeland. She only knows their motive. The old woman’s silence is so long, the young people have trouble holding their laughter. Finally she speaks, and her voice is soft but stern. “I don’t know” she says, “whether the bird you are holding is dead or alive, but what I do know is that it is in your hands. It is in your hands.”
Toni Morrison goes on to say that the woman’s answer “can be taken to mean: if it is dead, you have either found it that way or you have killed it. If it is alive, you can still kill it. Whether it is to stay alive is your decision. Whatever the case, it is your responsibility.” It is in your hands.

The wise old woman is saying that the tricksters are asking the wrong question when they ask is it living or dead. The question they should be asking is “how to live”. What are the living choices? How do we live a life with our hearts free for God, an undivided life that mirrors God’s intention for justice and love for all? The question is simply answered by an old woman in words that speak of our accountability to God and stewardship of God’s creation. It is in our hands.
Now, let’s go back to the gospel story and the two sons. Did you notice that neither son was anything to write home about? What choice do we really have? An insolent son, who eventually gets around to obeying and a “yes” kid, who never intends to follow through. Neither one pops the buttons off the father’s chest. And neither do we.

Maybe you’re the second son. You’re good on your feet. You’re good with the words of discipleship. You can pray in public with ease. You know the Scriptures quite well and can rehearse the finer points of the gospel. Others are maybe more like one of my friend’s speech students who came up after class crying because she felt she was so dumb. She just didn’t have anything in her life that she felt she could be proud of. Maybe you have a nagging sense of doubt when you recite the Creed. And perhaps your understanding of the Gospel is halting and unsteady. Maybe you have to look in the table of contents to find where the Gospel of Matthew or Philippians is. You may feel that you have little to contribute. So, though you’ve said yes to God, maybe you’ve felt like your life has been a big no on God’s ledger.

The good news is that to both groups God invites us to say “yes” again. To allow God’s Holy Spirit to release deep within us new vision and desire to let faith and action come together. Hear the Good News of the Gospel—God’s family is large enough to include both sons. To help all of us in our daily struggle to say “yes” to God’s call. God is big enough to take our feeble “yes’s and to forge them into a glorious heavenly yes and amen.

But God does need our permission and willingness. It’s in our hands.

This then is the great mystery of Jesus Christ that each of us must, for our own self, answer the question of what is the authority of Jesus Christ and who gave Jesus this authority. Are the hands of Jesus empty or do they hold infinity? Is Jesus crucified and dead forever, or is Jesus risen to life eternal and lordship over all the universe? Was Jesus abandoned by God to death, or is it the will of God that at the name of Jesus every knee shall bend? The great deep truth is the truth of the love and will of God Almighty who created us, who redeems us from sin through Jesus Christ, who calls us but does not compel us to righteousness, but never ceases to love and forgive and heal and accept. The truth is that no one, no authority can keep us from the love of God, and that authority is we ourselves.

It’s in our hands. For reasons we may never know, God seems to love us indiscriminately, and seems also to enjoy reversing the systems we set up to explain why God should love some of us more than others of us. By starting at the end of our lines, with the last and the least, the tax collectors and prostitutes, whoever we decide in our judgmental nature, is not good enough and should be shunned--God lets us know that his ways are not our ways, and that if we want to see things his way we might question our own notions of what is fair, what is right and what is good, and why we get so upset when our lines do not work.

God’s hands are wide open, ready and willing and loving us through it all. Take the hand of Jesus and begin each day with a heart turned towards God. It’s in your hands, reach out those hands toward the forgiving, loving and healing nature of God. Amen.

Forgiveness

By The Very Rev. Sherry Crompton
September 14, 2008

Read: Matthew 18:21-35

Today’s topic is forgiveness. It’s a tough one. I think it’s safe to say that we have all been in a position where we were hurt or injured by another’s actions and forgiveness proves to be a difficult act. Even Peter recognized that difficulty when he asks Jesus how often he should forgive another member of the church. Peter thought he was being very generous by offering 7 as a number. At that time, Jewish law stated 3 times, so 7 was above and beyond. Jesus, though, comes back with 77 times. In other words, Jesus is saying, don’t count, don’t keep score. Keeping track of someone else’s sins is not how I want you to spend your time. Keeping track and judging another person is not how to truly live your life.

Last week we heard about letting go and not holding on to the hurt and woundedness. The same idea applies to being able to forgive. Earlier in Matthews gospel, Chapter 7 opens with these words: “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you sa to your neighbor, “let me take the speck out of your eye, while the log is still in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.”

And in our reading from Romans today: “Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God.”

Someone once said that “Forgiveness means it finally become unimportant that you hit back”. So, in order to be able to forgive someone else it requires a personal healing. How do we do that? How do we heal the wound?

A friend shares this story:

A number of years ago I was hurt badly by someone. Words were said to me that were so ugly I was dumbfounded. It took three years for me to forgive the person
who said them. For the first year, those ugly words ran in my head almost
non-stop, like a background program running on my computer.

They ran hot and angry and pulsing and strong. I couldn't even think of forgiveness, at this point.

The second year, I was able to think to myself, "at some point, I'm really gonna have to let this go, and forgive the person." But I wasn't ready to let it go yet. The words were starting to lose their power, but they were still held together by my cooling, but still-present, anger.

In the third year, and yes, it really did take that long, not only did I know that I was going to have to forgive the person his words, but that the time would shortly come when this would be possible. I still carried the ugly words in my head, but they were becoming fragile.

As my anger faded, the words began to crumble. Finally, after three years, one day they fell to dust. I was able to sweep them aside, toss them out, and forgive without reservation.

One wonders if we might actually feed off of our hurt. It gives us something to do every day. It becomes our connection with like-minded people. Holding onto past hurts becomes an identity.

It's emotional clutter we don't choose to get rid of, much like the junk sitting in our garages is stuff we don't choose to get rid of even though we can't park the car in there because of it.

Is there more clutter in our lives than we can store, and is it time to clear some of it out? I know at least one compulsive hoarder. I don’t understand why she keeps what she does and can't move in her own home. The experts start the clearing process with one piece of paper, so let's start small. Let's start by picking up the anger at our brother or sister and deciding where we're going to put it. Is it trash? Then get rid of it. Now, what about that insult from Aunt Mary or the fury with the neighbor kid who spray painted your garage? Which pile does that go into - the keep pile, the fix pile, the give away pile or the throw out pile? One item at a time, clearing out space so we can breathe. We deserve to be surrounded by emotions that serve us in productive ways.

Here is another illustration: Picture yourself dragging a dead body around by its arm—kind of over your shoulder so it's leaning on your back trailing behind you. Like a sailor carrying a duffel bag. As you drag it along everywhere you go it impedes your walk. Causes you to stumble every once in a while. It seems heavier and heavier the longer you carry it around. You check up on it from time to time to make sure it's still there. Yep, there it is. And then picture, as time goes on, that this dead body starts decomposing, rotting, stinking. Putrid decay. Because it's on you this decay starts getting in you as well. You start resembling what you've been carrying because it has become a part of you. It's absorbing you and you're absorbing it. You also can't pick up and do something else fully because your attention, strength and energy are already being used.

This is a friend’s picture of holding onto offenses and the people that "done us wrong." And it’s a good one.

Forgiveness is about much more than just saying "I'm sorry" and acting like the offense never happened. Forgiveness is about mending broken relationships. It's about healing unhealthy relationships. It's about reconciliation and redemption and restoration and renewal.

Forgiveness is rarely a single act. It is more often a process. In fact, immediately prior to Peter's question about how many times he should forgive, Jesus has just outlined a very detailed process for forgiveness and reconciliation within the church-remember last week? And nowhere in that process or in the parable of the unforgiving servant does Jesus suggest that forgiveness means that we don't hold one another accountable for our actions.

In fact, he implies just the opposite. When we offer forgiveness, we do so in the hope that it will be a step in building up a relationship. The master in the parable forgives the servant because he cares about him. He is moved by the man's predicament and has compassion.

Likewise, when we forgive one another, that forgiveness is supposed to be the basis for building a new or renewed relationship. Forgiveness is not saying the offense never happened. It did. Forgiveness is not saying that everything is okay. Everything is not okay. Forgiveness is not saying we no longer feel the pain of the offense. We do. Forgiveness is saying "I still feel the pain, but I am willing to let go of your involvement in my pain." Forgiveness is an attitude of faith whereby we are able to turn over to God the business of how the other guy is doing. God is the ultimate judge. We can let go of the clutter and the dead body.

Forgiveness is saying, "I'm okay, and I am willing to let God deal with whether you are okay, and I am willing to let go of my need to be the instrument of correction and rebuke in your life."

Building a relationship is a lot more difficult than letting someone else say "I'm sorry" and then replying "OK, I forgive you." And it's a lot harder than bearing a grudge or seeking revenge. But, in the long run, forgiveness is a lot more rewarding than those options. For, through the process of forgiveness, one not only gets rid of an enemy, one also heals oneself and possibly gains a friend.

When Jesus forgives us, He does it totally, completely. Like the story of the king and the slave today. He showed mercy and released, or forgave, the man a huge, huge debt. But the servant held on to it, like the clutter, like the dead body, and was not able to forgive another who wronged him a lesser way—a much lesser offense.

When we fully accept God’s forgiveness we become a new creation in Christ Jesus. And when we sin again and turn to Him with repentant hearts we are instantly forgiven and He puts it in the sea of forgetfulness. Never ending forgiveness.

So the next time someone ‘does you wrong’ think about Jesus Christ and begin the process of healing. We have received the ultimate in gift in Jesus Christ. Accept the gift and pass it on. Live life knowing how much you are loved. A cherished child of the living God. Amen.

Conflict Resolution in the Christian Community

By The Very Rev. Sherry Crompton
September 7, 2008

Read: Matthew 18:15-20

Throughout Matthew’s eighteenth chapter, Jesus underscores the importance of Christian community. Faith winds up being much more than a private affair, it becomes a community affair…something that happens when two or three are gathered together in His name. That is when he promised to be in our midst…when two or three are gathered together…not when we are off by ourselves feeling holy.

Jesus is offering us a model of reconciliation today. A model for living together in community, as a family bound together by the love of Christ. He acknowledges that, like any family, there will be times when we misunderstand each other, become offended by what a brother or sister says or does. It goes with the territory—it goes with being human.

It is important for us to deal with offenses in the right way, or else they can become like a chain around our feet and slow our every step—cause us to stumble. God gives us a choice. The choice is that we can either be caught up in an offense cycle or we can stand up and break the offense cycle. In a sense we can learn how to deal with offenses in a constructive and healthy way--for you and your relationships.

We all get offended, but there is a healthy way of dealing with it and then there is an unhealthy way of staying in the offense. Being wounded is staying in the offense, it’s like staying in the pit. You know, there are people who are stuck in an offense that happened 10 or 20 years ago, and if you get them in a vulnerable moment they will tell you about the offense that happened 20 years ago as though it just happened yesterday.

If we get stuck in hurt and woundedness, we can get to a point where we get so bitter that it becomes part of our very life. When we live in this kind of woundedness, we will loose the love, the passion for life itself and become bitter and dull inside.

Today’s message is about positively confronting offenses and the offender before they turn into the poison of woundedness and bitterness. I believe that God wants us to adopt a pattern of behavior in which we continually deal with offenses in a positive and reconciliatory way.

There will always be issues, there always will be offenses by something some brother or sister says or does. Offenses that cause us to stumble are all around us, because our pride is so easily offended. Offenses happen in families, at the work place, on the playground and even at church. I can guarantee you that sooner or later people will say something or do something that will offend you, that will cause you to stumble.

So how do we usually react or respond when we are offended? There are several common strategies. Pretend that nothing has happened. Just let it go and no one will get upset, no one will be uncomfortable. A second strategy is the cold shoulder. We never tell the other person what is wrong because that would be impolite and shouldn’t they already know what they did wrong? It’s their problem, not yours. Yet another strategy is revenge—the silent, deadly kind—where you never admit any ill will toward someone but you let it leak out all over the place, never missing an opportunity to question the other person’s character or tell a little joke at his expense. It becomes a private smear campaign. And I know that you all know what I’m talking about!

In his book, The Great Divorce, the British writer C.S. Lewis paints a picture of hell that is haunting. It bears such resemblance to where so many human beings live. Hell is like a vast gray city, Lewis says, a city inhabited only at its outer edges, with rows and rows of empty houses in the middle—empty because everyone who once lived in them has quarreled with the neighbors and moved, and quarreled with the new neighbors and moved again, leaving empty streets full of empty houses behind them. That, Lewis says, is how hell got so large—empty at the center and inhabited only on the fringes—because everyone in it chose distance instead of confrontation as the solution to a fight.

Confrontation means to bring two people face to face, front to front, to sort out what is going on between them. That is what today’s gospel reading recommends, and it is also what most of us would do just about anything to avoid. It is so darn uncomfortable. What if I share that I am hurt? That might mean that he will continue to hurt me. I would feel foolish and what’s the use anyway? Things will never change.

And these are fine excuses if we don’t mind living on the outskirts of hell, but for those of us called to Christian community, we need to do something different. There is something more important than being right or wrong. The real problem is not the brother or sister who sins against us, but our own fierce wish to defend ourselves against them whatever the cost. The real problem is the speed with which most of us are ready to forsake our relationships in favor of nursing our hurt feelings, our wounded pride. In old-fashioned language, the problem is how eager we are to repay sin with more sin. And the wound festers and grows.

So often the basis of a fight is a bad assumption and misunderstanding. Jesus’ way is to take the initiative, even if it’s uncomfortable, and tell the other person what is wrong. The other person may not even know they offended you! Some questions to be asked: Am I sure I know what I am talking about? Have I given the other person the benefit of the doubt? What am I afraid of? Is the relationship worth the risk?

Sometimes, we need to have a little faith in people, and trust that they don’t really want to offend us personally. Some would call it: “the benefit of the doubt." Give people the benefit of the doubt. Have a little faith in them. Yes, they offended us, they sinned against us, but perhaps they did it inadvertently.

So share your feelings with them and see what happens. Most likely they will apologize and will say that they did not realize what they were saying or doing was hurtful toward you.

If the offense does not stop; if the relationship becomes hostile, we need to take it one step further, Jesus suggests; we need to utilize Christian brothers and sisters that act as mediators.

Christian conflict resolution and counseling is a powerful way toward reconciliation in the Spirit of Jesus' teaching. Of course, it takes both parties to agree on this method and if one party refuses to see a counselor or if they refuse to reconcile, then Jesus asks us to take the matter to the congregation.

When someone crosses us, we are called to be the first to reach out, even when we are the ones who have been hurt, even when God knows we have done nothing wrong, even when everything in us wants to fight back—still we are called to community with one another, to act like the family we are. That is how we know God and how God knows us. That is what we are called to do: to confront and make up, to forgive and seek forgiveness, to heal and be healed—to throw a block party smack in the deserted center of hell and fill the space with such music and laughter, such merriment and mutual affection that all the far-flung residents come creeping in from their distant outposts to see what the fuss, the light, the JOY is all about. Amen.