HE’S STILL IN THE FORGIVENESS BUSINESS
Scripture: John 20:19-31 (page 108)

FOCUS: Easter is not only the story of the defeat of death but is also a message of hope and forgiveness.

One of the most amazing, most countercultural moments in the life of Jesus Christ comes just before Jesus dies. Hanging on the cross, exhausted, troubled, writhing in mortal agony Jesus says of those who are responsible for his anguish, “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they are doing.” His words fly in the face of all that is logical, they just don’t make sense. How could anyone forgive such persecution, such hatred, such abuse? It just isn’t humanly possible we say, and we are right, humanly possible no, possible with God’s help, absolutely. There is perhaps no clearer example of the dramatic difference between our human nature and the divine nature to which we are called than that found in this final moment on the cross.     

Huston Smith is one of the world’s leading scholars in the field of world religions. A few years ago he gave a lecture in which he outlined what he concluded to be the most notable and most distinctive aspects of the various religions. For Islam he found it to be the emphasis on prayer. For Judaism, the focus on family. About Christianity he said, “It is forgiveness. It is unique to the faith of Jesus and to faith in Jesus to forgive enemies.” As I read Smith’s words I was reminded of one of my favorite C.S. Lewis stories, one I have shared with you before.

During a British conference on comparative religions, experts from around the world debated what, if any, belief was unique to the Christian faith. They began eliminating possibilities. Incarnation? Other religions had different versions of gods' appearing in human form. Resurrection? Again, other religions had accounts of return from death. The debate went on for some time until C. S. Lewis wandered into the room. "What's the rumpus about?" he asked, and heard in reply that his colleagues were discussing Christianity's unique contribution among world religions. Lewis responded, "Oh, that's easy. It's grace."

After some discussion, the conferees had to agree. The notion of God's love coming to us free of charge, no strings attached, seems to go against every instinct of humanity. The Buddhist eight-fold path, the Hindu doctrine of karma, the Jewish covenant, and the Muslim code of law -- each of these offers a way to earn approval. Only Christianity dares to make God's love unconditional. Only in the example of Christ do we find forgiveness offered freely to all. Grace and forgiveness go hand in hand. Grace is the mindset, forgiveness the active result. In the gospel lesson we have read this morning we find the fullness of God’s grace and forgiveness lived out with boldness in the active work of the risen Lord.

The disciples were in hiding, no longer seeking simply to blend in with the crowd, they were hiding out. Some scholars speculate that they were in the same upper room where the Passover meal had been shared, the room where Jesus had instituted the sacrament of Holy Communion. It makes sense. Certainly whoever owned the home must have been sympathetic to the cause of Christ. After all, the room had been offered freely and without question to Peter and John. Having  followed the man with the pitcher of water home on Thursday evening as Jesus had instructed them to do, the two disciples entered the house, asked where the room was that had been made ready and were immediately escorted to the upper room. And it would be a familiar place with memories of better days, an appropriate place to remember and to morn.

Whether it was the same room or not, it was no place for celebration or joy that evening. Imagine that you are there. The door is locked, bolted shut. Fear is a constant companion. You have seen what they did to the one to whom you had pledged your allegiance. It was anything but a pretty sight. You have heard the rumors that the Jewish authorities are not satisfied with having cut off the head of the movement, they want to come after the body as well. You are afraid, and you are a bit angry as well. After all, you gave up a livelihood, left behind a loving family and followed this itinerate preacher around for three years. You did it willingly, even enthusiastically, because you believed in his mission. He had said that he was here to set his people free, to establish a new kingdom. But now the status quo had been affirmed. His mission had been thwarted, he was dead and with him had died your dreams.

You are also probably a bit put out with the women, especially Mary Magdalene. Her emotions have gotten the best of her. She has been back to the tomb, not once but twice and she has this illusion that Jesus body has been miraculously raised from the dead. She says that she has seen Jesus and talked with him there in the garden where he was buried. She claims to have been visited by a couple of angels. Clearly, you think, she is suffering from the effects of all the stress, all the disillusionment. Who could blame her, but you just are not able to deal with her at the moment, there are too many unanswered questions, too much to figure out too many personal issues which take priority.

Like all the others your nerves are on edge. There is much activity out on the street. Soldiers and temple guards are on constant patrol. Crowds are still buzzing with the news of the week. Some dare ask the question. “Could it be that he really has been raised from the dead?” Others make jokes and mock just as they had on Friday when Jesus was paraded through the city. The authorities, both civil and religious have been meeting through the night plotting strategy, seeking to avoid making too big a deal of the matter  yet concerned it not be allowed to become a threat to their authority and power. Paranoia abounds and certainly is the emotion of the hour in the room where you are gathered with those who have been your brothers in a movement that now appears to be crushed.

With every sound of movement on the street below you peer out the window, fearing that someone will stop and climb the stairs which ascend along the outside of the home to the upper room where you hide. Every creak of stairs, real or imagined, sends a cold shiver up your spine. Your fear is exacerbated by the fact that you have no idea what you will do or say it someone does come to the door. Will you deny knowing Jesus again? Will you make excuses? Will you try to run past them into the night?

Then in an instant you find that you and the others are not alone. You look around, unsure whether to say anything. Did the others see him? Maybe it isn’t just the women who are hallucinating. But as you look around the room it is obvious that the others see him as well and are awestruck as are you. Awestruck and afraid. What is he going to do?  

That night Jesus came to a room filled with those who had been his inner circle, the ones who, perhaps in this very room at the last supper assured him of their determination to stick with him. Yet when it got dark and the soldiers came to take Jesus away all the disciples fled into the darkness. Judas was not alone in betrayal. The Lord the disciples loved was also the Lord they had abandoned. All were guilty, all still are.

But what those very human men heard and saw that evening was not at all what they expected. For one thing, Jesus came to them through a locked door. Jesus is still about walking through locked doors. I know he has visited me on occasion when I would have preferred to keep him out. I know that he has had to walk through doors of stubbornness and pride in order to get through to me. We all have locked doors, barriers we reinforce in hopes of keeping others out. But Jesus has a way of getting in any way. I am eternally grateful that he doesn’t come as we would, and that his message is not what ours would be. We are prone to attack locked doors with battering rams. And I suspect we would have come with angry words of condemnation that night. “How dare you turn your backs on me.” “How pig headed you were, I told you what would happen over and over and you never listened.” “And Friday night, where were you? Some inner circle you turned out to be.”

I suspect that is precisely what the disciples expected to hear when they saw Jesus standing there. It was what they deserved to hear. But God is not about what we deserve. God is about grace. So he spoke a word of grace. Jesus came quietly through the door the disciples had bolted shut and said simply, lovingly, filled with compassion, “Peace.”  Implicit in that greeting was forgiveness.

Jesus didn’t do what we would do. He didn’t wait for the disciples to ask for forgiveness, he came to them first and offered peace, offered forgiveness. In our minds forgiveness is a response. We forgive those who deserve forgiveness, because they have asked for it. God’s forgiveness is proactive and unconditional. It is offered because God knows and Jesus knows that we all need it.           

 Easter proves not only that it is the work of Christ to defeat sin and death, but also that it is the nature of Christ to forgive. He forgave those who nailed him to the cross. He forgave those who mocked him. He forgave those who followed him as disciples for three years and then deserted him, denied him in his hour of most need. He has forgiven me, he has forgiven you and he will do it again when need be. Easter means that no matter how you have failed in your walk with God, no matter how you have betrayed Jesus, you can find hope and comfort and yes, you can find peace of heart in the remembrance of the gospel lesson. Remember to whom Jesus first appeared after his resurrection. Remember their brokenness, their fear, their failure. Then remember what Jesus said. “Peace, I forgive you, I love you still.” How amazing, how unique, how godly are grace and forgiveness.

Thanks be to God, God is still in the forgiveness business. We can take heart in the knowledge that we can never stray so far that we cannot be welcomed home, forgiven. But we must never forget that with forgiveness comes responsibility. Having been forgiven we are called to forgive, not because others deserve it, they very well may not, not because others have begged forgiveness, for the most part folks will not do so. We are called to forgive because that is God’s nature and we are called to live as children of God, as those who share God’s nature.

On that night in Jerusalem Jesus walked through the locked door, offered the disciples peace, forgiveness, love. He was sent from the Father for just such a task, to bring forgiveness and love to a broken world. Having offered the peace, having granted the forgiveness, Jesus challenged the disciples. “Just as the Father sent me, so I send you.” he said. Send us to do what? To forgive sins.

I was struck by the way The Message translates the familiar verse 23 about forgiving or retaining sin. There we find these words on Jesus’ lips. “If you forgive someone’s sins, they are gone for good. If you don’t forgive sins, what are you going to do with them?” What are we going to do with them indeed? I think this passage speaks to the very heart of the brokenness of the human condition. We are reticent to forgive because we know what we want to do with the sins of others, we want to hold on to them, to mull them over in our minds and to share them with others. Grace is wonderful, forgiveness divine, when offered to us, but not so palatable when it is we who are called to be full of grace, when we are those who are called to forgive, unconditionally.

The irony of it all is that if we open ourselves to the call to forgive, if we bring ourselves to move beyond our natural bend to conflict, we will find that our hearts become more peaceful, as we come to see others a Jesus did, never simply as objects with which to be dealt, but always as people, as valuable children of God in need of grace. How can we make such our nature? It is not something you or I can ever accomplish on our own. God understands that. That is why God sent us an example in the life of God’s son and that is why God sent a comforter, one to walk with us through the days, one to guide us on our way. In that room behind the locked door, Jesus offered forgiveness, brought peace, called to mission and empowered the disciples. He took a deep breath and breathed the presence of the Holy Spirit into that group of very human guys, and they were changed, empowered, emboldened and made ready to open the door and go out into a dark world, no longer afraid, no longer uncertain, but eager to share the light which had come to them in their darkness, no matter what the cost, no matter what the consequences. There behind the locked door the disciples had come to know the truth of God’s grace and forgiveness and the truth had set them free from all fear. The truth had given them hearts at peace, hearts equipped to see all God’s children as valuable souls, hearts filled with grace.

In an Easter message Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury said, “Easter says to us, ‘Give up the struggle to be innocent and the hope that God will proclaim that you were right and everyone else wrong. Simply ask for whatever healing it is that you need, whatever grace and hope you need to be free, then step towards your neighbor; Easter reveals a God who is ready to give you that grace and to walk with you.’”

God is still in the forgiveness business and God calls us to be his business partners..

For your sake, for the sake of this community, for the sake of all God’s children, and for the sake of the kingdom of God, let it be so in your life. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN