Showing posts with label Forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Forgiveness. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

When Do We See Jesus In Our Midst?

The Rev. Kathi Johnson
A Lectionary 23 – 10 September 2017
Text: Matthew 18:15-20
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Jesus said to those who were following him:

If someone in your community sins against you, don’t blab about it to everyone around you. Go and talk with that person directly. If the person listens to your concerns - great. Your relationship with them is reconciled.

But if the person ignores you, do this: take a couple of people with you the next time you go to them, that way you’ll have others who can see and hear the conversation. Maybe the person will continue to ignore you. If that happens, talk with the larger community so they can address the issue with the person. Throughout all these conversations, the concern should be for reconciliation.

Realize that the person might still refuse to listen to your concerns, even after all this, and if that’s the case, your relationship with them may seem like it’s been wounded beyond healing.

But look - reconciliation matters, in heaven as on earth, and there is tremendous power in forgiveness between people. And when you’re face-to-face with someone with whom you’ve had a disagreement – even when you’re in the thick of trying to work that out – I am there with you.

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This week and next, there is a thread of forgiveness and reconciliation running through our gospel texts. In our church year, we’re more than halfway through what we sometimes call the “Green Season” – the season that includes many teachings by Jesus. These teachings have been put together into this season so that we can learn from Jesus, and – hopefully – grow in our calling to live as his disciples.

Today’s teaching from Matthew 18 could just as well be called “Conflict Management 101,” and it goes against what feels most comfortable for us. After all, when someone has hurt us in some way, the easiest thing in the world is not to go and talk with that person about how much we’re hurting. The easiest thing in the world is to go and talk with someone else about how much we’re hurting, avoiding the topic altogether with the person who has hurt us.

Of course, when we do this, it brings no reconciliation with the person who has wronged us. Often, it has the side effect of entangling someone else into what began as a simple conflict between two people. How many times have you seen this happen, whether in a church or in your family or between friends? What starts out as an issue between two people can turn into a tangled mess of conflicted relationships.


Jesus’ teaching here is also counter-cultural. Our culture encourages indirect communication in our personal conflicts – like when we fill out an anonymous comment card with nothing but complaints. We now also live in a world that goes online to grumble about other people. Yet what Jesus is trying to get us to see is that when we are hurt, direct communication with the one who has caused offense is normally the best course of action.

The heart of this teaching is reconciliation, and Jesus is trying to help us see a pathway through our pain to reconciliation. Yet even as he teaches us, Jesus recognizes an important reality: that sometimes the person who has hurt us will ignore us, even when we are trying to make amends. Sometimes, we are not listened to, and this makes the pain of the broken relationship last even longer because being ignored doesn’t feel good at all.

When I was a little kid – maybe six years old – my mom and I were staying with my grandparents in their RV. I was apparently going through a phase where I would ignore my mother and the other adults in my life. So, there we were, the four of us in this small space, and I chose that time and place to ignore my mom.

So, Mom cooked up a little plan. She asked my grandparents to join her in an evening of ignoring me. I remember they were sitting at the table, the three of them, and I came up to say something, and they ignored me, just like I wasn’t even there. It was awful. And I learned a powerful lesson that evening: ignoring others causes pain.

As I said, Jesus acknowledges that sometimes, in our attempts to be reconciled to someone, they are going to ignore us. But, he says to keep trying. Grab some trusted friends or others in the community – people that you know are trustworthy – and see if they can help you communicate with this person. All attempts at reconciliation might fail – and sometimes letting go of unhealthy relationships is the best way forward - but Jesus here is underscoring the importance of the work that we put into our relationships with others.

With today’s teaching about reconciliation, there are certainly lessons to be learned all around – as the one who has been wronged and also as the one who has hurt someone. When we’ve been hurt ourselves, direct communication with the one who has hurt us is best, if not easiest. Likewise, when we’ve hurt someone else, listening to them – not ignoring them – but listening to them is best, if not easiest.

Now, I moved right past a very important part of Jesus’ teaching. I moved right past the part in verse 15 when Jesus says that sometimes, our attempts at reconciliation actually do work. Sometimes, forgiveness between people is exactly what happens, and when forgiveness occurs, both people benefit. Both people benefit when forgiveness is bound to our relationships, and both people benefit when the hurt of sin is loosed – or let go - from our relationships.


In the very last verse of today’s gospel text, Jesus says, “…where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” This verse reminds us that Jesus is present with us in all things, even in the sometimes uncomfortable work of being in relationship with others. This verse is commonly used to describe Christian gatherings: And that’s a nice thought, the idea of Jesus gathering with us in our Bible studies or in our service projects like we’ll have after worship here at Our Redeemer today.

But what about in the context that Jesus puts it in here? What about Jesus being with us when we need to have these difficult, uncomfortable conversations with others? In my office, next to my phone, I keep this set of prayer beads for times when I have to make a difficult phone call. The cross reminds me that in every conversation I have with people, whether it’s a challenging conversation or not, Jesus is there, with me.

Can we imagine that? Do we see Jesus in our midst when we are telling someone else, “You know, this thing you did really hurt me…” Do we see Jesus in our midst when we have someone saying those words to us? And, even when we are hurt, can we imagine Jesus giving us the heart and the will to be reconciled with someone?

Right there, even in those difficult moments, is where Jesus promises us he will be. Find comfort in his presence with you. Find strength, if that is what you need. Know that God’s love has found you in God’s forgiveness, and that Jesus abides with you always. Amen.


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Sunday, June 12, 2016

Greatly Loved by God; Greatly Forgiven by God

"The dawn from on high will break upon us..."


The Rev. Kathi Johnson
Year C, Lectionary 11 – 12 June 2016
Text: Luke 7:36-8:3
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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This story of the woman anointing Jesus so captured the ancient imagination that each of the four gospel writers included a version in their own telling of the Jesus story. In Matthew, Mark, and John – the other three gospel books besides Luke – those who are with Jesus judge the woman for being wasteful. The costly ointment, they say, should’ve been sold, and then the proceeds could’ve been given to the poor. It is in Luke that we have this particular version of this story, where the woman is judged not for being wasteful, but rather, she is judged for her morality – or lack thereof.

Luke introduces this woman to us by calling her a “sinner” but does not name her particular sin. Because history is not often kind to women who make bold gestures, her sin has often been named throughout history as prostitution. But please notice that the woman’s sin is never named by the gospel writer, nor does Jesus call her out for her sin in this story.

The woman’s actions are very bold, indeed. To us, they seem foreign – they are foreign – they come out of a very hands-on place and time – remember Jesus healing the blind man by rubbing saliva on his eyes? Don’t be put off by the intimacy of her actions – rather, look at the devotion with which she does them.

The woman is weeping, and her tears bathe Jesus’ dirty feet. Jesus’ feet are probably dry and cracked from walking so much on dusty roads; the woman rubs ointment on them to provide relief. And throughout these rituals of devotion, the woman blesses his feet with her kisses. This is loving work done by someone who knows she is loved.

Jesus commends this woman to his host, Simon, for her acts of love and hospitality – acts which, by the way, should have been provided by the host. Through this story in Luke, we hear that God can forgive someone who doesn’t sin much, but we also hear that though the woman’s sins are many, God’s forgiveness is even greater.

Simon looks at this woman and only sees someone who has sinned greatly. Jesus looks at this woman as one who is greatly loved by God, and greatly forgiven by God.

Luke has this way of lifting up the lowly in his gospel. In the very first chapter of Luke, Mary the Mother of Jesus is visited by the Angel Gabriel and told that she will bear the Messiah, even though she is a young unmarried woman. Later that same chapter, Mary rejoices that God – through her child - will topple those who are lofty and will lift up the humble. When John the Baptist is born, his father prophesies that the Messiah will “give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.”

And here, in today’s story, we find a woman whose reputation precedes her, and she is made new through Jesus Christ, who offers her forgiveness and love. This “good news of great joy for all people” that we hear about in the Christmas story – this good news has reached this lowly woman, and has lifted her up.

When I am out socially with people I don’t know very well, I don’t always tell them right away that I’m a pastor. Here’s why: oftentimes, as soon as people find out I’m a pastor, they feel guilty, for whatever reason. They feel the need to apologize for not being at church for the last twenty years, or – and this is funny – they feel the need to apologize for the cuss word that’s just slipped out of their mouth in front of me.

It seems to me that they are horrified to find themselves in the presence of someone who – to them – personifies holiness. They are convinced that they could never go to church again because they just aren’t holy enough to walk through the doors. Somehow, at some time, they became convinced that God only wants to see the truly righteous ones in church – and they feel in some way that they just don’t measure up.

I don’t always have the opportunity in these instances, but when I do, I try to talk with people about our church. I tell them how great of a church I get to pastor. I tell them about ways we are involved in our community. I tell them about some of the things we do to help others. And…I also tell them – forgive me – that we aren’t perfect. We, like this woman, are sinners.

Because the true beauty of our church is not only the community service we do, or the good we do in the world. The true beauty of our church is that we are loved by God, and forgiven by God.

Yes, we sin.

Yes, God loves us.

Yes, God forgives us.

And it is then out of this love and forgiveness that we are able to take the love we ourselves receive from God, and turn it into action. The sinful woman was forgiven, and her response was to cleanse and anoint Jesus’ feet.

We are forgiven – and what is our response? Do we care for others in any way we can? Do we try to bring healing to a hurting world? Do we cast our own judgments of others aside, and try to see them through the loving eyes of Jesus? Do we help the downtrodden? Do we lift up the lowly?

Yes, we sin.

Yes, God loves us.

Yes, God forgives us.

Yes, God calls us to love God, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. And when we do these, we discover that love casts out fear, and casts out hatred, so what we are left with is love.

Amen.

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Sunday, March 6, 2016

Rejoicing to Forgive

The road of forgiveness runs long.


The Rev. Kathi Johnson
Lent 4, Year C – March 6, 2016
Text: Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32, 2 Corinthians 5:16-21
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas
 
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Today’s Gospel lesson contains one of the most well-known and well-loved stories in the Bible: the parable told by Jesus that we often call the Parable of the Prodigal Son. However, the assigned section of Luke’s Gospel for today leaves out some of the context of this parable. If we read from the beginning of chapter fifteen, all the way through, we see that this parable is actually the third of three parables in that chapter.
 The other two parables are also fairly well-known: the first is the Parable of the Lost Sheep, wherein Jesus asks the crowd who among them wouldn’t leave their flock of ninety-nine sheep to find the one that has wandered away? The second is the Parable of the Lost Coin, with the woman lighting a lamp to find a coin that is worth a day’s wages.
 Both of these parables give us the same story and the same ending: someone is searching, and then they find, that which has been lost. And then at the end of both of these stories, Jesus tells us that there is joy in heaven when even one sinner repents and turns back to God. In both cases, the one doing the searching represents God, who searches us out to bring us back.
 Then we reach the third parable, which gives us the story of the father and his two sons. The placement of this story after the other two parables is important, for there is movement from finding something less valuable (a sheep or a coin) to something much more valuable (one’s own child). Together, these three parables give us a picture of a loving and patient God who longs for reconciliation. It is the parable of the sons and their father, however, that beautifully tells of one son’s repentance and his return to his father, and the father’s rejoicing to welcome him home.
 One son leaves home with his inheritance, living a wasteful life and turning his back on the faith of his family. Once he’s hit rock bottom, he comes to himself, and in humility, he returns to his father to be a slave, only to be welcomed home with a lavish feast. Since the fatted calf was killed for this feast, we know that the whole village would’ve been invited to share in the celebration.
 The father gives his younger son the inheritance, with his older son staying behind to care for the family business. When the younger son returns home, his father and brother know what he’s been up to. His father responds immediately with love, forgiveness, and celebration – his brother responds with deep resentment and anger. The story ends with the father begging his older son to set aside the resentment and anger to join in surrounding the lost-and-found son with love, forgiveness, and joy.
 One common way to read this parable is to see ourselves in the characters of the story. In this way of reading, the lost-and-found younger son represents that part of each of us which is at times wandering, or at times wasteful, but then is humble, returning to God for God’s undeserved forgiveness and love.
 Likewise, the angry older son represents that part of each of us that believes that forgiveness and love are given only to those who work for them – those that deserve forgiveness and love from God. There are two extremes here represented by the two sons, and in reality, our own lives of faith and sin may fall somewhere in the middle.
 How about the father in the story? If we are trying to see ourselves in the characters in this story, can we see ourselves in the actions of the father? Do we reach out with forgiveness and love? Do we rejoice to forgive?
 With the parable ending as it does, we don’t know how things play out. We don’t get to see if the older son forgives his brother, nor do we get to see if the younger son maintains his humility, nor do we get to see if the father is able to re-establish peace within his family. If we are seeing ourselves in the characters of this story, then it is up to each of us in our own lives to decide to be humble, or decide to forgive.
 Looking at this parable another way, we see that it is also about God, and it shows us God’s nature. Unlike our sometimes-shaky relationships with other people, we know the end of the story in our relationship with God. If Lent is a time for us to focus more on repentance and turning back to God, then it is also a time to focus more on the welcoming love of God. Through Jesus’ death and resurrection, we are given new life, and in our baptisms, we are given faith. This is the love of God that we are given as a gift – love that is undeserved – love that sometimes doesn’t make any sense.
 Martin Luther wanted baptized people to remember their baptisms daily, and we should remember our baptisms often. It is in baptism that we are made children of God, and empowered by the Holy Spirit to serve God in the world. At our baptisms, we are made “new creations” in Christ, and we are called to take God’s reconciling love to others.
 Through faith, we know and trust that God welcomes us home with extravagant, rejoicing love whenever we turn from our sin back to God. And as faith gives us the ability to see God’s great love for us, faith also gives us the ability to see God’s love for others in our lives, and to offer his love and forgiveness to them.
 We gain strength for this work again and again, when we hear and read God’s word, when we worship God, and when we join others at the holy meal that God prepares for us at Holy Communion.
 As we are continually renewed by God’s love, may we find the humility of the lost-and-found son within ourselves. May we find the forgiveness and joy of his father within ourselves. Let us be the ones who bring humility, forgiveness, and joy to our families, to our workplaces and schools, and to our communities. The world needs all the humility, forgiveness, and joy that we can muster. Let’s bring it!
 Amen.

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Thursday, January 22, 2015

What do you want to be when you grow up?

A hint of what I dreamed of being when I grew up...

Second Sunday After the Epiphany, Year B – January 18, 2015
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Grace and peace are yours, from God our Father and from our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

If you had to guess, what do you think I wanted to be when I grew up?   

Actually, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a meteorologist when I grew up. This desire was based on two things:  First, growing up in Tornado Alley, I was fascinated with weather.  Second, I was a bit smitten with the TV weather guy that we watched on the news every evening.

I really, really wanted to be a meteorologist – that is, until I hit the sixth grade and was placed in Pre-AP (or advanced) Science and Math classes…and almost failed both – miserably. Because Science and Math are subjects that are important to the field of meteorology, and because I felt I wasn’t good in either of those subjects, my dream of becoming a professional meteorologist gradually faded.

I continue to have an amateur interest in the weather, and will hopefully take some classes as an amateur someday, but I don’t think I’ll ever be a meteorologist when I grow up. My gifts are now being used elsewhere, as I eventually discerned that God was calling me to this work of pastoral ministry.

So, what did you want to be when you grew up (or what do you want to be)?  And now that you’re grown up (those of you who are) – what are your vocations? I don’t just mean – how do you earn your paycheck. Vocation is so much more than simply earning a paycheck. I mean – how do you serve God and others in your daily life? What roles and responsibilities do you have? 

Tying all of these roles and responsibilities together under the umbrella of “vocation” can be very useful for us as Christian people, because it helps us to see that God uses us in so many more ways than simply doing tasks around a church or serving a congregation in one way or another during worship, for example. God can use you in every single role you have in order to serve the world and to show others his love.

This is why Jesus calls disciples to follow him, like in today’s gospel lesson from John, and next week, we’ll hear about the calling of some of the other disciples in the Gospel of Mark. Without these disciples, Jesus is just one guy, wandering around Galilee, doing all the work himself. But God wants his love out there – among the people – and so Jesus begins calling people to help him with this loving work of God.

And so, my brothers and sisters, that is why we are called to follow Jesus, too. Whether we are a parent or a child, a student or a teacher, a husband, a wife, a single person, a dating person – whether we are a pastor, an assisting minister, a lawn-mower, a Council member, an usher or any of the other myriad of roles around this place – whether we are still working or retired, working 80 hours a week or 10 hours a week, cooking dinner or ordering take-out – we are called to follow Jesus in each of these vocations, and to show the love of God to others, no matter what we are doing.

Last Thursday, we had our monthly Women of the ELCA Bible Study, and at one point, we were looking at Psalm 51 together. Psalm 51 is heavy into repentance and forgiveness – it is often used as a part of Ash Wednesday worship and at other times during Lent.

This psalm has long been associated with one of the most sordid tales in the Bible: the story of King David having an affair with a woman named Bathsheba, and then killing off her husband. Later on, David is confronted about his sin by the prophet Nathan, and David repents of his great sin. Tradition tells us that Psalm 51 was written out of that scene of confession and forgiveness.

The psalm begins, “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions…” and then the psalmist continues in his confession, asking God to create a clean heart within him, and not to cast him aside. “Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit,” he says.

And then, he turns a corner - he is confident of God’s loving forgiveness - for the very next verse says this: “Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you.” And so the one who has sinned and repented and been forgiven is the one who will now teach others about sinning and repentance and forgiveness. As we began to discuss this part of the psalm in more detail, one of the ladies in our group simply said, “We have a job to do.”

Exactly right. We have a job to do. In the case of this psalm, we are given God’s loving forgiveness whenever we come to him in repentance, ready to turn from our sin and to seek his way. And then, having received God’s forgiveness, we are not called to wallow around in the mud like a bunch of pigs – we are called instead to teach others about our repentance and God’s forgiveness.

Expanding this back out to the greater question of vocation – if you are here today, you almost certainly have as one of your vocations, “Disciple of Jesus.” How do you live out that calling? You have been given the great gift of God’s love – how will you offer that same gift to others, saying to them, like Philip said to Nathanael, “Come, and see Jesus.”

That absolutely happens in our work done in and through Our Redeemer Lutheran Church. But it can and does happen in a thousand other ways and places and times, too. Pay attention to every opportunity that God brings before you to offer his love and forgiveness to others, and through you, people will see Jesus. Amen.

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Sunday, September 14, 2014

What Does Forgiveness Look Like?


14 September 2014 – Year A, Lectionary 24
Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

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Grace and peace is yours, from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

I’m going to start today with a question: What does forgiveness look like?

I’m starting with this question because that’s the question at the heart of Peter’s question to Jesus: “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” In other words, Jesus, what does forgiveness really look like, anyway? How abundant is forgiveness?

Well, Peter should know by now that when you ask Jesus a question like this, you’re typically going to get an answer that’s all about the kingdom of heaven – an answer that makes perfect sense in God’s kingdom, but to us, sounds a bit “out there.”

Jesus answers with what we call the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant. I’m going to tweak it a bit to fit it into 2014:

There’s this man who owes a bank a lot of money – about six hundred thousand dollars – an impossible sum of money for him to repay on his salary. Since he cannot pay, the president of the bank orders that he and every family member – even the children - have to work extra jobs in order to earn enough to pay off their debt. One day, the man goes to see the president of the bank and he begs for freedom from the impossible debt. The bank president has pity on the man and his family, and he relents, and forgives the entire debt.

The man leaves the bank and is heading home to give his family the good news. While walking home, he sees a coworker and he remembers, “Wait a minute – he owes me fourteen thousand dollars!” The man proceeds to rough up his coworker in order to collect what’s owed him. The coworker begs for more time to repay his debt; instead of being merciful, the man has his coworker thrown into jail.

So, yes, the man who has just been forgiven this huge, impossible debt - forgiven only because of the mercy of the bank president – he turns the tables of forgiveness over on top of this other guy, and all because of a much smaller amount of money.

But another coworker is also there, and sees everything that happens. He knows the bank president, so he goes and tells the banker what he’s just seen. The bank president, furious, has the forgiven man picked up and thrown into the tiniest jail cell he can find. He’s allowed no visitors, and given one meal a day. And every time the guards walk by his cell, they give him a punch in the gut. His family keeps working all of their extra jobs until they can pay back the impossible debt.

Now, obviously, I changed a few things in this parable – to help us to see that Jesus uses extremes in his parables on purpose: in order to capture the attention of his audience. But there is also in this parable the sense of Jesus wanting to push open our minds, to expand what we think forgiveness looks like, and what unforgiveness looks like. Can forgiveness really look like a king’s or a bank president’s mercy, given to someone who owes an impossible debt? Can unforgiveness really be so harsh – as harsh as torture - for the one who refuses to forgive another?

There are two sides to focus on in this parable: that of the one receiving forgiveness, and that of the one offering forgiveness. On the one hand, the parable reminds us that God forgives us our impossible debt – one which we can never hope to repay. Our sinfulness is ever with us, and we are ever the poor, struggling person, asking for mercy.

On the other hand, the parable reminds us that forgiving others is absolutely vital. When we have been hurt by someone, it is often forgiveness that can move us forward.[1]

Most of us have things we remember our parents (or others) saying over and over again. I remember time and time again, when I’d just related some complaint to my mom about something that someone had done to me, she’d listen, and then simply say, “You sure are letting that person have an awful lot of power over you!”

She was right. I had been wronged, in whatever way, and yet I hadn’t gotten around to forgiving that person yet. I was holding onto the wrong and holding onto the pain or trouble they had caused. As long as I held onto all of that garbage, I wasn’t free to move forward, and so I was, in a way, letting that person hold me back. I was like the tortured servant, doomed to be hurt by my own unforgiveness, again and again.

Like the extreme forgiveness initially offered by the king in the parable told by Jesus – or the bank president in my version - forgiveness may not make a lot of sense to us, or to others, especially when we are looking at someone whom we feel owes us an impossible debt.

And yet this parable has another lesson for us: that our own forgiveness and our ability to forgive others are absolutely bound to one another. What is it that we pray in the Lord’s Prayer? “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” As Luther wrote: “…we ask that God would give us all things by grace, for we sin daily and indeed earn only punishment. So, on the other hand, we, too, truly want to forgive heartily and do good gladly to those who sin against us.”[2]

As we daily receive grace and forgiveness, so we are called to offer grace and forgiveness to others over and over again. I’ve often told people that I don’t think of forgiveness as a once-and-for-all-time thing. Forgiveness is a journey, sometimes made up of a thousand steps – a thousand decisions made weekly, or daily, or hourly to forgive that person who has hurt me or wronged me in some way.

Peter wants a number when he asks Jesus his question: is it seven times I should forgive, Jesus? Jesus’ answer, seventy-seven times[3], shouldn’t be taken literally and we shouldn’t create a tally sheet. Rather, that number is meant to be representative of an overall huge number of times that we are willing to forgive – or something closer to what Martin Luther King, Jr. called a “constant attitude” of forgiveness.

We are closing the sermon time today with a rite that we use almost every Sunday here at Our Redeemer Lutheran Church – the rite of Confession and Forgiveness. On Sundays that we use this rite, we stand and face the baptismal font, as a reminder of our own baptismal identity: that we are washed in these waters and marked as Christ’s own forever. But may we also remember that, in our baptisms, we are called to live as forgiven ones, and as forgiven ones, we are called to forgive.

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[1] I will note here that this parable has been wrongly used at times to justify someone staying in an abusive situation. Telling someone who is being abused to “forgive and forget” their abuse is neither helpful, nor the point of Jesus’ teaching here.
[2] Luther’s Small Catechism, explanation to the Fifth Petition of the Lord’s Prayer.
[3] OK, or seventy times seven. Not the point!