Forgiven Today (41)
Lectionary, Year C, Proper 29
Christopher B. Harbin
Luke 23:33-43
How can we possibly forgive those who have grievously harmed us? It’s an issue I have seen many people struggle with over the years. Some simply refuse to forgive. Others try to explain away the bad behavior of another as irrelevant, leaving no need for forgiveness and no acceptance that they have been inexcusably harmed. Another slice of the population recognizes harm and a mandate to forgive, along with forgiveness being a struggle. Why should we forgive? How can we forgive? Why is it so hard to truly forgive in more than word only? What does forgiveness look like, and why should I care?
A few days ago, I ran across the story of a mom who sat a basket of laundry down, not seeing the Lego ship her child had spent all day building. She told him what she had done, telling him she was sorry and knew how much work he had put into it. ‘‘Are you mad?’’ He responded with something akin to, ‘‘I want to be mad, but when I broke your plate yesterday, you told me it was just a plate, even though I know it was special to you. It’s okay, Mom, I can rebuild it.’’ That’s a simple example of forgiveness given, learned, and returned. We all know the hurt we feel over things lost, even as we value the people in our lives more than those things. We struggle to keep what we value most front of mind in the midst of our sense of loss.
What we find in today’s passage, however, digs much deeper. It’s a story of abuse. It is a story of willing and determined hostility. It is a series of actions and words designed to increase pain, to dehumanize, to ridicule, to shame, to degrade. It was an extension of the actions and decisions of others, but it was taken up voluntarily to enjoy the suffering of Jesus’ physical torment on the cross, adding emotional and verbal torment above and beyond the physical.
These actors were not people who loved Jesus. They played no special role in his life. He ...
Lectionary, Year C, Proper 29
Christopher B. Harbin
Luke 23:33-43
How can we possibly forgive those who have grievously harmed us? It’s an issue I have seen many people struggle with over the years. Some simply refuse to forgive. Others try to explain away the bad behavior of another as irrelevant, leaving no need for forgiveness and no acceptance that they have been inexcusably harmed. Another slice of the population recognizes harm and a mandate to forgive, along with forgiveness being a struggle. Why should we forgive? How can we forgive? Why is it so hard to truly forgive in more than word only? What does forgiveness look like, and why should I care?
A few days ago, I ran across the story of a mom who sat a basket of laundry down, not seeing the Lego ship her child had spent all day building. She told him what she had done, telling him she was sorry and knew how much work he had put into it. ‘‘Are you mad?’’ He responded with something akin to, ‘‘I want to be mad, but when I broke your plate yesterday, you told me it was just a plate, even though I know it was special to you. It’s okay, Mom, I can rebuild it.’’ That’s a simple example of forgiveness given, learned, and returned. We all know the hurt we feel over things lost, even as we value the people in our lives more than those things. We struggle to keep what we value most front of mind in the midst of our sense of loss.
What we find in today’s passage, however, digs much deeper. It’s a story of abuse. It is a story of willing and determined hostility. It is a series of actions and words designed to increase pain, to dehumanize, to ridicule, to shame, to degrade. It was an extension of the actions and decisions of others, but it was taken up voluntarily to enjoy the suffering of Jesus’ physical torment on the cross, adding emotional and verbal torment above and beyond the physical.
These actors were not people who loved Jesus. They played no special role in his life. He ...
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