Another local pastor and I had found ourselves in a public dispute over his self-defense beliefs. At the time, I was an outspoken pacifist. He invited me to get lunch to hash it out in person.
We met at Mcdonald's.
“So you really take everything the Bible says so literally. You think to turn the other cheek just means roll over and die?” The baptist minister asked.
I said yes.
“That same verse says give to the one who asks of you. So give me your debit card.” I handed it to him. I hoped that if the verse were true if we love those who are our enemies, maybe by me loving him at this moment, he would see the love of Jesus and change. He took my debit card, laughed at me, and walked out.
He bought an iTunes gift card. I canceled my debit card. Stalemate, I guess.
Unholy Sh+t: An Irreverent Bible Study
7th Sunday of Ordinary Time
Today’s reading: Matthew 5:38-48
My favorite thing about Christianity is also my least favorite thing about Christianity: forgiveness.
When Jesus wasn’t too busy healing folks of every ailment… except missing limps (ever notice that?) or casting out demons, he was always pontificating on something. Jesus basically says, “Be kind to those you meet, give food to those in need, love your enemies, and if you do all I ask, then you will be brutalized and persecuted in the same manner as I soon will be if you follow my teachings. And just to be clear, I mean I will be beaten to a pulp and then die an agonizing death naked and alone.”
Every time I read the Bible, I think of Norville Barns saying, “You know, for kids!”
Forgiveness is important. If we are all really honest with ourselves, we don’t want to live in a punitive society. Are we really the sum total of our worst day? I certainly hope not. But many times within the Church, the concept of forgiveness has been abused. So how do we properly apply forgiveness without allowing ourselves to be continually taken advantage of or hurt repeatedly?
In the Sermon on the Mount, we find Jesus giving some pretty difficult medicine, “love those who hate you, pray for your enemies, and bless those who curse you.” But then he goes and doubles down with, “turn the other cheek.” I used to say that Jesus never specified with which set of cheeks you were supposed to turn.
*insert scene from Braveheart where the celts are mooning the English*
But what is the point of this forgiveness that Jesus is demanding? Are we really supposed to just constantly allow those who hurt us to continue to cause us harm until the end of time? That is what I was taught growing up, and yet, I saw forgiveness withheld in equal measure from folks whose “sins” seemed so much more benign.
When we look at the whole verse in context, a different picture comes to the surface. We are also being told not to be vengeful if someone takes from us and to give to the person who asks of us. Jesus seems to be raising the bar, but how high and to what purpose? The purpose is simple: to remind us that we all fail.
The act of forgiveness at the time of Jesus wasn’t as simple as someone saying “I’m sorry” and another accepting the apology. We have, as a society, diluted the process of forgiveness down to a simple thing: say you're sorry, and I will reject or accept.
What often gets left out of the narrative is the concept of penitence and reconciliation.
The process of forgiveness isn’t a noun but a verb. It requires action on behalf of both parties. First, the offense must be acknowledged; then, the offending party enters a state of penitence. The penitent must begin the process towards reconciliation, not just with the individual but with the community as a whole. Being a penitent was to be spent making restitution and showing that actual change had taken place.
In the early church, this meant the person would sit outside the congregation for a time. Once they had appeased the requirements to show that they had made the change, they would then be accepted back into the community.
“Only the penitent man shall pass. KNEEL!”
One of the dangers with the Bible is how it’s read. We hear a word like forgiveness, and we modernize it instead of contextualizing it. So when forgiveness is demanded of us, we aren’t demanding back the process the original text is implying. Not a simple exchange of words but walking together as a community towards restoration.
Just the words aren’t enough; it’s about an action with follow-through that leads us to reconciliation.
We also have to contextualize who Jesus was and what his purpose was. Jesus was building a society; that was the purpose. His claim was to a kingship and that he was building a kingdom. He describes the type of world he wanted to build, one that was fundamentally different from the punitive culture of his time. A single offense could find someone being stoned (not the fun kind) or nailed (also not the fun kind).
So when Jesus says, “don’t judge, and you won't be judged,” it’s a warning about the type of world we build. He’s telling us that the society we shape is the one we are also bound by. If we build a world that is based on swift justice and not reconciliation, we will all be judged because we’ve all missed the mark.
I think it’s also important to acknowledge what forgiveness isn’t. The action of forgiveness ends with reconciliation and not a restoration. Just because someone has been reconciled to the community, it does not mean they have to be restored into our lives as individuals. We are allowed to say, “I see that this person is changing and is trying, but I’m not willing to allow them back into my life.”
Sometimes the action we take is simply believing they can do better, but way the f+ck over there.
What if the person we're having the hardest time forgiving is ourself?
Some day you and my husband need to have a chat because you understand Christianity the same way. He's an Elder at the Presbyterian Church we were married in (regrettably it's in the process of closing). But I appreciate these messages because it gives us the opportunity to have discussions about religion every week that are easy to understand and approachable. We both look forward to these coming in.