Isaiah 40:1-11

Isaiah 40:1-11 (NRSV)

 Comfort, O comfort my people,

says your God.

² Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,

and cry to her

that she has served her term,

that her penalty is paid,

that she has received from the Lord’s hand

double for all her sins. 

³ A voice cries out:

“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,

make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

⁴ Every valley shall be lifted up,

and every mountain and hill be made low;

the uneven ground shall become level,

and the rough places a plain.

⁵ Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,

and all people shall see it together,

for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” 

⁶ A voice says, “Cry out!”

And I said, “What shall I cry?”

All people are grass,

their constancy is like the flower of the field.

⁷ The grass withers, the flower fades,

when the breath of the Lord blows upon it;

surely the people are grass.

⁸ The grass withers, the flower fades;

but the word of our God will stand forever.

⁹ Get you up to a high mountain,

O Zion, herald of good tidings;

lift up your voice with strength,

O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings,

lift it up, do not fear;

say to the cities of Judah,

“Here is your God!”

¹⁰ See, the Lord God comes with might,

and his arm rules for him;

his reward is with him,

and his recompense before him.

¹¹ He will feed his flock like a shepherd;

he will gather the lambs in his arms,

and carry them in his bosom,

and gently lead the mother sheep. 

The theme of Isaiah 40:1-11 is the call of the prophet. His call involves a dream of the people of God, now in captivity in Babylon, returning home. Mark 1:1-15 suggests one can understand the ministry of John the Baptist through this passage. In fact, Mark begins here, rather than in a stable. One might understand this segment as a prologue to the whole of II Isaiah in 40-55. Consolation is a dominant theme.  It has the form of dialogue, as often in II Isaiah, here the partners are the prophet, the Lord, and two unidentified voices, who are at least messengers of the Lord and likely the heavenly council.  In this case, the call of the prophet involves challenging the people of the Lord to leave their present geographical setting in Babylon and heed the call to return to the Holy Land of Israel. By the time of this call, many of the Jewish people had become comfortable with their circumstances. Even if they experienced oppression at times, the circumstances became familiar. Yet, some people, and II Isaiah was among them, sensed that something was wrong. They sensed the need for a new home. In such a situation, the prophet hears the voice of the Lord calling him to challenge the people to embark upon the unfamiliar and surprising path. The year is 539 BC, 48 years after the final destruction of Jerusalem by Babylon. Cyrus the Great of Persia had conquered Babylon. He offered his edict that the resettled peoples may return home if they wished and rebuild the temples of their gods.[1] The Lord wanted them to return home. Put more strongly, the Lord desired that they do so. Even if some Jews had become happy in Babylon, even if some had assimilated into society, even if the prospect of returning to a land in ruins was not enticing, II Isaiah says they needed to heed the voice of the Lord. Such a path is not necessarily an easy one. In fact, it may be incredibly long and difficult. Yet, to apply the sense of this passage today, if we have open ears, we may hear the call to wander away from the familiar and embark upon a new path. We might even ponder the many occasions in the Bible and in the history of the people of God when doing something new seems to be the pattern of the ways of God with the people of God. God called a family, that of Abraham, to embark upon a new journey of leaving the clan and finding a new home. God called the Hebrews out of bondage in Egypt and promised them a new home. From a Christian perspective, God called the Israelites out of an old covenant involving law, land, city, and king, and into a new covenant established by a suffering servant. God has taken the journey of the Incarnation, becoming one with human beings, and shown a new way to see God and to see what human beings can be. God has shown openness to new ways. Maybe we need to shake ourselves free from our patterns of life and open our eyes to a new road. 

The background of this passage involves a theological understanding of what happened in the course of the history of the people of the Lord, especially in Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges Samuel, and Kings. We could add Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, and Jeremiah as prophets from this period. In my view, what we have is a steady breaking of the Ten Commandments by these people that takes up a substantial portion of the Old Testament. A cartoon showed a husband and wife driving along at a rapid pace on a desert road.  The wife was saying, "I know we're lost, but I didn't want to say anything about it because we were making such good time."  I am sure that many kings and spiritual leaders in Israel and Judah thought they were making good time with God. They may not have known where they were going, but they were ahead of schedule. Some prophets warned them this was not the case. Many prophets, which we now know as false, helped convince the people of their generation that they were doing fine. The point of this long theological interpretation of the history of Israel and Judah is that the Lord has demonstrated divine justice in punishing them with exile because of their failure to uphold the covenant the Lord had established with them. However, their primary disobedience was that they did place other gods before the Lord, and they did fashion idols after their image. If we do not know God as the source of our lives, we search for infinite satisfaction from other human beings or material things, something that they cannot give.  We can become selfish, tyrannical, and cruel.  Only connecting with God will satisfy the last abyss of the human heart. [2] The breaking of the command to honor the Lord as their God led to the breaking of the other commandments, many of which meant lack of respect to fellow Israelites. 

            The call of the prophet seems to come suddenly. Yet, during this period, some creative theology is taking place. The spiritual leaders gather the Psalter for worship. They construct a history that now involves a theological interpretation of these people that extends from the Patriarchs to the exile, which we find in the Torah, Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings. Having experienced judgment from the hand of their Lord, they knew they needed clarity as to their identity as the people of the Lord. Thus, we must not mistake the apparent unexpected message of II Isaiah as a sign that the people were not seeking for the Lord. In reality, the exile was a time of intense searching for the Lord. To put it a bit philosophically, when we lose our trust in what is finite and temporal, we naturally turn to what is Infinite and Eternal. Such moments can remind us of truths we have long forgotten. God-forgetfulness is strong, even among the people of God.

To convince the Jewish people to return home, the prophet outlines three points.

First, in 40:1-2, God will be faithful in forgiving the people of God. God offers pardon for their sins. Given the perceived harshness of the punishment, it will be challenging to convince the people of this. ¹Comfort[plural form], O comfort [plural form] my people, says your [plural form] God. Some scholars would suggest the Hebrew best translates as inviting a group, such as the heavenly council, to give comfort to the people of God. It invites a group to bring comfort to another group. The reference to God suggests one true God who rules over all. Again, ² Speak [plural form] tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry [plural form] to her. The importance of speech will be evident throughout this passage. Of course, the content of this speech sets the tone. The heavenly council all have the same task: that she has served her term of military service, during which they suffered conscription in the complete control of others, that her (Jerusalem’s) penalty is paid, that she (Jerusalem) has received from the Lord’s hand [Israel’s divine patron] double for all her sins. The passage reflects the view that the fall of Jerusalem in 587 BC is punishment for its crimes. The task of the heavenly council, then, is to announce the end of the divine punishment seen in the exile of Judah in Babylon. It is announcing forgiveness of sin. Deuteronomy 28:58-65 and II Kings 17:7-20 say that rejecting the first two commandments of having no other gods and making images, rejecting the Shema, which affirms the oneness of God and exclusive loyalty to this God, will result in the forfeiture of the Hold Land. Yet, Jeremiah 31:31-34, Ezekiel 36:22-38, and Hosea 14:1-7 suggests that God will forgive them when they repent and return to the ways of the Lord. Deuteronomy 30:1-5 promises that even if exile drives them to the ends of the earth, God will gather them back home. The prophet announces pardon. The exile is not a forever anger and punishment from God. The prophet even seems amazed at the survival of the Jewish people and their return home. 

            Second, in 40:3-5, a messenger speaks the message that God will lead them. The way home is through a harsh desert. To apply such a thought today, believing in the miraculous road that will return us to our true land and heritage can bridge the distance between God and us. In our prayer and meditation, we do our part to meet God on the road between us that God has prepared, the road on which God will lead us to freedom and salvation. II Isaiah promises that regardless of the difficulties that they find on the road, they will survive the journey. Again, reminding us of the importance of speech again, we learn that ³A voice cries out. The voice could be that of the Lord or the prophet. Our deciphering of this little issue in the text depends upon our interpretation of the rest of the passage. The content of what this voice cries out is “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our [first person plural] God. The point is that the new road on which the exile will travel will find obstacles removed: ⁴ Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. At that point, they shall receive revelation: ⁵ Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together. God will meet them on this road. This divine road is one in which the merciful God comes to the rescue of the people of God and leads them back to their home. They can have assurance of all this for a simple reason: for the mouth of the Lord has spoken. The voice is a prophecy that extends what God has revealed to the prophet into the future. In that sense, revelation became provisional, its truth depending on the future self-demonstration of the truth of God.[3] II Isaiah, in fact, stresses that the future consummation of world history has a connection with the coming of the rule of God that will end all human rule. Such a consummation will mean the judgment of all human injustice, the transformation of the present creation, and the resurrection of the dead, all of which will finally also make the deity of God and divine glory manifest to all people.[4]

Third, in 40:6-11, God will strengthen them when they are weak. They can see their weakness as a people. Reminding us of the importance of speech, ⁶A voice says ‘Cry out!’ The prophet asks, What shall I cry? The content of the speech is what matters again. All people are grass. Human beings are ephemeral; their constancy is like the flower of the field. Yes, ⁷The grass withers, the flower fades. In fact, as the breath or wind of the Lord, the hot east wind, will blow upon the grass or flower, in the same way, surely the people are grass. The flesh is weak, the road is long, and the people are temporary.  

Most of us can think of many examples of weakness. Here is a brief story. Raynald III, a 14^th century duke of what is now Belgium.  He was grossly overweight.  He ate everything he could put his hands on.  This was his great weakness.  In fact, he had a Latin nickname, “Crassus,” which simply means, “fat.”  He got into a quarrel with his younger brother, Edward.  Edward led a revolt against his older brother and was victorious. Rather than killing him, he put Raynald III in a castle and built a room all the way around him.  There was a window and a door, which was only slightly smaller than a normal door.  Edward told his older brother that all he had to do was be able to get out of the room to have his old title and property back.  All he had to do was lose weight.  Nevertheless, Edward knew his brother well.  He had a variety of delicious foods brought to his room every day.  Though people accused him of cruelty, he said his brother could leave whenever he wished. For ten years, he stayed in his room, getting fatter and fatter.[5]

In contrast to such weakness, God is eternal. Reminding us of the importance of speech again, but the word of our God will stand forever. The God of the Bible, who is eternal, stands in contrast to everything on earth.[6]Yet, what I find amazing is that while individual human beings fade quickly, even as quickly as the beauty of a flower, God cares for each one. We may well feel our weakness, finitude, and temporality deeply at times, but we need to remember that the Infinite and Eternal God has taken time for us. God has done sought us specifically in deliverance, reconciliation, and redemption. While I have pointed to the important of speech throughout this prophetic oracle, we have here the most forceful expression of this theme here as the prophet contrasts the transitory nature of human existence with the constancy of the word of God. He contrasts the weakness of people with the power of the Lord. The oracle concludes with the prophet speaking. He refers to Zion and Jerusalem, geographically distinct places. Zion is a hilltop inside the city of Jerusalem. However, theologically and poetically, they are identical. ⁹ Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings, lift it up, do not fear. Zion/Jerusalem are not yet in a position to be such a herald. Human beings are fearful creatures. Our fear may cause us to fail to hear the voice of God. Henry David Thoreau said, "Nothing is so much to be feared as fear."  Franklin Roosevelt, some 80 years later, for a new generation, could say, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."  The Bible gives the command not to fear 365 times, one for each day. They are to speak to the cities of Judah, ‘Here is your God!’ Some Jews remained around Jerusalem and watch over its ruins. They will only need to look east. ¹⁰See, the Lord comes with might and his arm rules for God. A common image in Exodus is the image of the mighty hand or arm of the Lord to describe the saving acts of God (6:1, 13:3, 9, 14, 16, as well as Deuteronomy 6:21 and 7:8, and even Joshua 4:24.) The first exodus was a road out of Egypt and through the wilderness. The second exodus will also be through a desert. This second deliverance will have a distinctive character. It will not come with plagues that judge the enemy. As the Lord approaches Jerusalem, his reward is with him and his recompense before him as company. ¹¹ He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep. They will see that God travels the miraculous highway, leading the exiles like a shepherd leads sheep. Even the weak ones the Lord will carry. God is leading them home and carrying them in the mighty arms of the Lord. The end of this shameful period means the restoration of the favor of God toward the people of God. People will see this in the tender care the Lord provides. Such tender care becomes a sign of divine glory. The prophet is introducing a very different understanding of what God’s glory consists of (compare, for example, Exodus 7:14-12:30, the account of the plagues, or Exodus 19, the theophany accompanying the Ten Commandments) which, while not wholly absent from earlier Israelite traditions, was generally overshadowed by the more violent and destructive manifestations of divine power. The impending end of that shameful period, therefore, would quite naturally be interpreted as the restoration of God’s favor toward his people, demonstrated in the acts of compassion described in verse 11: the feeding of his flock like a shepherd, the gathering of his lambs in his arms, the carrying and gently leading of his sheep. In marked contrast to the brutal acts of exile, which demonstrated beyond doubt the power of Israel’s God to punish, the prophet here describes these acts of mercy as the signs of God’s “glory.”

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[1] (II Chronicles 36:23. For a translation of the Edict of Cyrus, see James Pritchard's The Ancient Near East: Volume 1: An Anthology of Texts and Pictures [Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1973] 206-8, paperback version).

[2] (Oswald Chambers, Shade of His Hand).  

[3] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 213.

[4] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 246.

[5] Thomas Costain, The Three Edwards.  

[6] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 374.

Matthew 18:21-35

Matthew 18:21-35 (NRSV)

Forgiveness

²¹ Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” ²² Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.

The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant

²³ “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. ²⁴ When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; ²⁵ and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. ²⁶ So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ ²⁷ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. ²⁸ But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ ²⁹ Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ ³⁰ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. ³¹ When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. ³² Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. ³³ Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ ³⁴ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. ³⁵ So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

Matthew 18:21-22 contains a saying on forgiveness. I note that this topic is difficult for many people, so I hope to explore this theme. As we do so, let us remember a wise saying, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”[1]

Jesus recommends it because forgiveness is good for you. Not just for the person who needs to be forgiven, but for you. Forgiveness can enable you to regain your personal power. Forgiveness starts with a choice and then becomes a process. Jesus wants us to get stronger and healthier by making the decision to forgive, and then turning that choice into a process.

Matthew has constructed a narrative that introduces a saying of Jesus. Peter wonders how often he should forgive a member of the church who sins against him. He pegs the number at seven. Some rabbinic discussions frequently pegged the number at four. He acts as representative for the disciples. He concedes that forgiveness must be generous if it is gracious at all. Yet, is seven times a reasonable limit in order to forestall possible abuse of the willingness to forgive? We do not know if he refers to the same type of offense from the same individual. He has learned of the importance of forgiveness even in order to ask the question. Jesus invited us to pray, “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” The response of Jesus is to reject firmly the offer of seven times, and suggests seventy-seven times. The saying is from the material Matthew has in common with Luke, but this time the difference is worth noting. In Luke 17:4, which excludes the dialogue with Peter, we read, “And if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive.” I find this instructive because it seems as if Matthew has made a change in the saying under the influence of Genesis 4:24, “If Cain is avenged sevenfold, truly Lamech seventy-sevenfold.” At the same time, this could be a case where Jesus offered two sayings on forgiveness. Another matter worthy of note is that some scholars will translate ebdomhkontakiV epta as “seventy multiples of seven,” and thus 490 times. Regardless, if you wish to debate the correct number of times you must forgive, you have already missed the point. You are not to keep count. After all, the point is not that we do not need to forgive when we reach the 78^th offense.

What are the limits of offering forgiveness? To ask the question is to acknowledge that our hearts are not in a good place. Forgiveness that arises from love for the other person and desire for the flourishing of the other person, regardless of the personal relationship, will not even ask the question. Yet, we need to remember some simple truths. Forgiveness is not saying, "Forget it." Forgiveness is not saying, "I forget." Forgiveness is not saying, "It's okay." Rather, forgiveness is saying ''I'm okay, and I am willing to let God deal with whether you are okay, and I am also willing to let go of my need to be the tool of correction and rebuke in your life." ... Forgiveness is not saying, "I no longer feel the pain." Rather, forgiveness is saying, "I no longer feel the need to hold on to your involvement in my pain."[2]

Matthew 18:23-35 is a parable concerning the unforgiving slave. The source is the material unique to Matthew. Kathleen Norris tells of a Benedictine nun who is keeping vigil at the bedside of her dying mother. Seeking to comfort her mother, she says, “In heaven, everyone we love is there.” “No,” her mother responds, “in heaven I will love everyone who’s there.”[3] Such love is difficult here on earth. Forgiveness arises out of genuine love. We will not forgive if we do not love. We will not forgive if we do not get beyond the hurt, even the extremities of the hurt inflicted upon us by others, if we do not love them enough to desire the best for them. Forgiveness is not so much about the other person as it is about your life and heart. Forgiveness, if it comes from the right place in you, will free you from the resentment that will eat away at you. Thus, forgiveness is not about how it affects the other person. It could be meaningful to the other person if the other person repents, opening up the possibility of reconciliation. However, forgiveness is important because of the benefits it offers to you. It will free you from the demand for justice and instead leave the other person in the hands of God.

The parable of the unmerciful servant exhibits marks of both oral tradition and exaggerations typical of the stories of Jesus. The fantastic character of the story is also typical of the parables of Jesus. The ambiguity of the story is a feature of many parables of Jesus. Jesus offers another parable that helps us understand the rule of God. The awkward phrase in Greek that introduces the main character is anqrwpw basilei  (a man, a king) likely referring to a provincial official in charge of tax collection. It sets up a contrast between the actions of the human ruler in the story to the divine ruler. The ruler is ready to settle accounts with his slaves. A slave owed him an impossible amount to repay. Let us say it is 10 million dollars. The reason for such a large debt is not a matter of concern in the world of this parable. The ruler is ready to sell him and his family and recover as much as he can. For this reason, I find it a mistake to turn this ruler into an allegorized version for the divine ruler. The slave begs for mercy, saying that if the ruler has patience the slave will repay him everything he owes. Personally, I find it highly unlikely that he could do so. Both the ruler and the slave know this to be the case. Thus, surprisingly, the ruler forgave the debt! Our happiness as listeners immediately tempers when we learn that this same slave, the recipient of great mercy and release of obligation to a debt, has a fellow slave who owes him a small amount. Let us say $100. The same slave is vicious in grabbing him by the throat, demanding that he repay what he owes. His fellow slave also asks him for patience in order to repay the small debt. Yet, the same slave who received such mercy from his master refused to offer it to his fellow slave. In fact, he put the slave in prison, a common practice in the ancient world. For us listeners, the failure to imitate the act of forgiveness he had received is striking. If the story stopped here, we would highlight the contrast between the ruler and the first slave. One is willing to forgive a staggering obligation, the other refuses to cancel a paltry sum.  The parable invites the listener to choose the appropriate mode of behavior. However, the parable does not stop here. The parable introduces us to another set of characters. They are the friends of the second slave. Let us think of these friends as providing a dramatic way of bringing us as listeners into the story. We are angry with the first slave. We wanted the first slave to respond to the paltry debt owed to him in a way that imitated the mercy showed to him by the ruler. We feel sorry for the second slave. We cannot believe what the first slave has done and we want something done to him to teach him a lesson in forgiveness. “What goes round comes back around” is a familiar saying to most of us. You sow what you reap. You get what you deserve – even punishment. Such sayings that involve a form of karma in life satisfies the desire for justice in life. It occurs enough times in the actual world to offer some excuse for such a saying. Though it is sometimes tough, at least it is what is deserved, earned. These friends of the second slave go to the ruler and report what the first slave had done, something we as listeners want done as well. The ruler summons the first slave, reminds him of the forgiveness of the debt he extended to him after he pleaded for mercy, and yet, he refused to extend mercy to his fellow slave. The ruler is now angry. Thus, he does not just put the slave into prison, but also has him tortured until he pays his debt. The ruler has shown himself not to be the nice person he momentarily appeared to be. We also might remember that this ruler was ready to sell the man and his family in order to recover part of his debt. He may not be a nice man at all. As listeners, we might be a little hesitant about the torture, but the parable initially satisfies our sense of justice. The first slave got what he deserved.  Yet, let us now step back as readers of the Gospel of Matthew. The ruler fails to forgive the first slave when given a second opportunity to forgive. He withdraws his initial act of mercy and forgiveness. Thus, the ruler in the parable creates a problem, for obviously, he had a limit on the extension of forgiveness, which reverts to the question raised by Peter in 18:21-22. The ruler illustrates what happens if we put a limit on forgiveness. In the world of the parable, the ruler has forgiven once and then withdraws his forgiveness. We as listeners have some confusion. How are we to respond? Are we to keep showing forgiveness? Are we to be like the ruler and have a limit on forgiveness? The parable ends with the warning that the Father of Jesus will deal with us in similar fashion if we do not forgive our brothers and sisters. God responds toward people in the ways they demonstrate by their actions that they wish to be treated. Those who demand justice or reasonably limited forgiveness (as Peter suggested to Jesus) should expect God to do the same. Those who, instead, open themselves to moving fully into the realm of forgiveness will find God is already there forgiving them and helping them find forgiveness in their hearts for others. Forgiveness of another person is a choice. The parable invites us to consider carefully the choice we make. Do we really want a world in which the demand for justice is primary? Alternatively, do we really want the world of the rule of God that will make forgiveness and mercy primary?

It seems obvious that part of the point is that since God has cancelled the debt that no human being could repay, we ought to forgive any debt a human being owes to us. The community lives based upon the inconceivably great mercy and grace of God. In particular, since Matthew has framed the context to refer to church members, we can say the point is that within the church, we need to forgive. The moral of the story contains the warning that God will not forgive you if you do not forgive your fellow church member or even your fellow human being. Thus, the parable explains an aspect of the rule of God. You as a follower of Jesus have received divine forgiveness, so part of the summons Jesus offers to enter the rule of God now is the readiness to forgive others.[4] We should also note that mercy has a close relationship to the goodness of God, and is in fact an expression of that goodness.[5] Yet, the parable makes such fine points in an ambiguous way. It illustrates that limiting forgiveness would not work. In particular, the ruler illustrates the effects of the limit on forgiveness that Peter proposed. If we arbitrarily deliver either justice or mercy, chaos is the result.[6] The not so hidden point that Jesus and Matthew invite us to consider is that the rule of God has its basis in mercy and forgiveness rather than a strict demand for justice.

All of us have a grievance story involving someone. It might be parents, a sibling, a teacher, a boss, or a neighbor. Your grievance story may be the nation in which you live and the wrongs you may justly feel it has inflicted upon you. Such a grievance story is usually taking something personally that was not necessarily intended that way, and then holding the other accountable for your feelings. When you blame someone for what you feel instead of hold them accountable for what they have done, you keep yourself stuck in victimhood and inaction. According to some studies, failure to forgive releases adrenaline, cortisol, and norepinephrine into the body. These chemicals are the same way we respond when encountering stressful situations. They also limit our creativity and problem-solving. If continued, it will lead to our feeling helpless and like a victim.[7]

            John Newton is the author of some of our most beloved hymns, like “Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken,” and “Amazing Grace.”  He contributed greatly to the spirituality vitality of the church through his hymns. Yet, before his conversion, Newton participated for yeas in the cruel African slave trade.  When Newton spoke in his hymn of “a wretch like me,” he was not just using poetic hyperbole.  He was a wretched offender in the worst sort of way.  However, in his conversion, Newton is also a symbol of the amazing grace of God.  After his conversion, he became a pastor and worked for the abolition of slavery.  Can you not feel the irony?  A hymn from the heart of a former slave trader has become beloved by scores of African-American congregations.  While Newton wrote the words, we do not know who wrote the tune.  Some have said, with some justification, it is probably that the tune evolved from African folk music.  Is not this beloved hymn a fitting symbol of Christian redemption and reconciliation?

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[1] Mohandas Gandhi

[2]  --Timothy Merrill, Learning to Fall: A Guide for the Spiritually Clumsy, timothymerrill.net. 106ff. Kindle loc. 2246ff.

[3] Amazing Grace (New York: Riverhead, 1998), 367.

[4] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 332-3.

[5] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 432-3.

[6] Bernard Brandon Scott (Hear Then the Parable, 277-280)

[7]  Bettencourt, Megan Feldman. "The science of forgiveness: 'When you don't forgive you release all the chemicals of the stress response.'" Salon, salon.com. August 23, 2015.

 

Matthew 18:15-20

Matthew 18:15-20 (NRSV)
¹⁵ “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. ¹⁶ But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. ¹⁷ If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. ¹⁸ Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. ¹⁹ Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. ²⁰ For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” 

Matthew 18:15-20 contains sayings on erring brothers and sisters. These regulations seem to reflect a time when the church had to develop procedures for dealing with deviant behavior by its members. The Roman Catholic Church and Martin Luther find support for the sacrament of penance. Usually, a sacrament has a physical sign attached to it (water, bread and wine) but we do not find such a sign here.[1] Instead, I would like us to move down a different path of reflection. The passage deals with a difficult topic. It suggests caring enough about the relationship to do something to make things right when they go wrong. The passage should raise a simple question for us. Do we have some action that we need to take in order to bring healing in any of our relationships?

Aristotle spends about a third of his Nicomachean ethics discussing the virtue of friendship. In fact, it is no exaggeration to say that Aristotle bases his entire ethic upon friendship. A good person was inconceivable apart from good friends. Only a friend knows when to press and when to hold back. Only a friend has the right to hurt you. Moreover, truth -telling is inherently painful. We do not easily see the truth, especially when the truth exposes something painful about us. Such a notion is a large distance from a common way we practice friendship. We have given a friendship a bad name. We are open, tolerant, accepting and gracious, all of which, in the proper context, are good qualities to have. Yet, it can suggest that if you stay out of my life, I will stay out of your life. Is that friendship? The fact that we are friends has become a way for us to excuse immoral behavior. We have developed the term “community” to refer to thin stuff. We have motorcycle, gay, and business communities. Some refer to them as tribes. Yet, and I say this firmly and with love, no community worthy of the name, no genuine friendship, is present without truthfulness. The truthfulness of a friendship and a community carries with it risk and pain in our willingness to confront. Discernment is a gift that involves determining between right and wrong. It acknowledges injustice. It names the hurt. Yet, all of this can arise out of an act of deep love. We love the truth enough to tell it, risk it, and hear it. In this regard, this passage is close to Aristotle in its notion of community. This passage takes seriously the notion of sin interrupting friendship and calling forth accountability to each other. Forgiveness and reconciliation are not about pretending that things are other than they are. We do not pat ourselves on the back and ignore the wrong done. True reconciliation exposes the awfulness, the abuse, the hurt, and the truth. It could make matters worse, at least for a time. It involves risk. Yet, in the end, the process is worth it. Only an honest confrontation with reality can bring healing. Superficial reconciliation, in fact, may well make matters worse.[2]

With this background, and admitting the difficulty of the teaching here, I will discuss the passage in three segments.

First, the theme is verse 15, which has its source in the material Matthew has in common with Luke. In Luke 17:3, we have a saying that seems closer to what Jesus might have said, “If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive.” In any case, the teaching here is that if another member of the church sins against you, you are to point out the fault to the person alone. If the person listens, you have brought reconciliation. We need to remember that throughout the passage, the focus is upon restoring fellowship. This passage keeps the notion of “sin” quite general. Other passages in the New Testament see no problem with listing sins like sexual license, economic duplicity, or theological error. It leaves to our imagination what this sin might be that another person in the church has committed against us. I should also note that some very good Greek manuscripts omit that the sin is “against you.” As it stands, the point is that the community must take sin seriously, even when you are the recipient of that sin. We are not to ignore it. We have a responsibility for each other. If another has sinned, we can help that person retain honor in the community by bringing it to their attention. What matters is the reconciliation between two members of the church. If any persons should have readiness to forgive, it should be members of the church.[3]

The second segment is in verses 16-18, verses unique to Matthew. At this point, we can see that the strategy for dealing with sin is straightforward. After the one-to-one confrontation, the passage recommends another confrontation that takes place with witnesses. The advice has its basis in Deuteronomy 19:15.

A single witness shall not suffice to convict a person of any crime or wrongdoing in connection with any offense that may be committed. Only on the evidence of two or three witnesses shall a charge be sustained. 

The passage elaborates a procedure in Jewish Law. The reason for witnesses is two-fold. It protects the one who has committed the perceived sin and the one sinned against. If you think someone has sinned against you, you might be wrong. Since you have tried to offer correction to the fellow church member and failed, the witnesses might have the right words. The witnesses actually protect both partners in the confrontation. If this relatively private process does not work, the passage recommends the public process of bringing the matter to the church. I grant that this process also shows that the church takes sin seriously. We need to remember, however, that church for Matthew referred to 15-40 people! I cannot imagine any pastor of a church legalistically following this procedure in our setting. If the person who has sinned against you will not repent when the church engages the confrontation, then the one who sinned is to be like the “unclean” Gentile and tax collector. If we are not careful, we could interpret this saying as contradicting the behavior of Jesus toward these groups. This counsel presents an interesting quandary. On one hand, it straightforwardly commands the church to separate itself from those who refuse to seek repentance. The observant Jew was not to associate with groups designated “unclean.” To do so would risk one's own purity and essential integrity. One could read this verse, then, as the Christian community shunning those who refuse to practice repentance of their sins when properly confronted by the community.  The quandary such an interpretation presents is that Jesus himself spent much of his ministry associating with those despised and rejected as unclean by Jewish law, specifically Gentiles and tax collectors. The community must not accept sin as natural, but rather, fight against it. The goal is winning over the sinner. Thus, far from separating oneself, considering such persons in the category of Gentile or tax collector would become part of the church's call to continue Jesus' mission of outreach to these and all outcasts. It could then be both a pronouncement of judgment by the church and a call to renewed missionary effort toward those it has justly ostracized. It is worthwhile to recall Paul's teaching along a similar vein.

"My friends, if anyone is detected in a transgression, you who have received the Spirit should restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness ... Bear one another's burdens, and in this way fulfill the law of Christ" (Galatians 6:1-2).  

Although it is impossible to be certain, Paul may be referring to an oral tradition about which both he and Matthew knew. It is instructive to read this Scripture passage over against another one that provides advice for conflict resolution. The other passage is Matthew 5:23-24.

"So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift." 

Notice that the roles have reversed. In the present passage, the person who takes the initiative to go and visit the brother or sister is the person who has been at the receiving end of a sin by a brother or sister. In Chapter 5, you are not the victim this time, but the perpetrator. The remarkable thing about these two passages is that the advice is pretty much the same for both parties. Whether you are the one against whom someone has sinned or the one who has sinned, you still have responsibility to swallow your pride, get up, and go to your sister or brother, seeking reconciliation. As individuals and as a community, we are to take sin seriously. Finally, the authority previously given to Peter to have the keys to the kingdom of heaven to bind and loose, this passage now gives to the community. It does so without reference to a particular leader who might have the keys. To the question "What is the power of the keys?” the Heidelberg Catechism supplies this answer:

"The preaching of the holy gospel and Christian discipline toward repentance. Both of them open the kingdom of heaven to believers and close it to unbelievers" 

The third segment, verses 19-20, with its theme of the presence of Jesus, is unique to Matthew. It seems to go back to the procedure before bringing the matter to the congregation. The context for the authority of the community is prayer. If even two of them agree on earth about anything, their Father in heaven will grant it. In this context, the Father will recognize the negotiated agreement as legitimate without involving the action of the entire congregation. In fact, if two or three gather in the name of Christ, the Lord is present among them. It took ten males to form a Jewish synagogue. If the two or three mentioned earlier prayerfully commit themselves to an agreement, the Lord is present. Such presence is a reconciling one. The agreement will lead to the health of the congregation. Christ is present in the center of the relationship. Christ has gathered them. The objective is to strengthen them for eternal life. They pray with each other.[4] Even in this intimate gathering of a few persons, the church is present. The Spirit is the means by which Christ is present to this community.[5]

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[1] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 3, 339.

[2]  --Desmond Tutu, No Future Without Forgiveness (Random House, 2009), 218. 

[3] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 3, 246.

[4] Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.2 [67.2] 658, [67.4] 699-706.

[5] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 123, 323.

Genesis 45:1-15

 

Genesis 45:1-15 (NRSV)

 Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all those who stood by him, and he cried out, “Send everyone away from me.” So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers. ² And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. ³ Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?” But his brothers could not answer him, so dismayed were they at his presence.

⁴ Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come closer to me.” And they came closer. He said, “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. ⁵ And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life. ⁶ For the famine has been in the land these two years; and there are five more years in which there will be neither plowing nor harvest. ⁷ God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. ⁸ So it was not you who sent me here, but God; he has made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt. ⁹ Hurry and go up to my father and say to him, ‘Thus says your son Joseph, God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me, do not delay. ¹⁰ You shall settle in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near me, you and your children and your children’s children, as well as your flocks, your herds, and all that you have. ¹¹ I will provide for you there—since there are five more years of famine to come—so that you and your household, and all that you have, will not come to poverty.’ ¹² And now your eyes and the eyes of my brother Benjamin see that it is my own mouth that speaks to you. ¹³ You must tell my father how greatly I am honored in Egypt, and all that you have seen. Hurry and bring my father down here.” ¹⁴ Then he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, while Benjamin wept upon his neck. ¹⁵ And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; and after that his brothers talked with him. 

In Genesis 45, Joseph reveals himself to his brothers. The chapter is a composite of J and E. We have the final narrative sequence in the story of Israel's founders as the story of Joseph concludes.

Joseph's revelation of himself to his brothers brings to its fullness, with emotional power, psychological insight and theological acumen, a tale of folly, favoritism, jealousy, deceit, cowardice, malevolence and injustice. We can read this story as a story of estrangement and reconciliation, as forgiveness overcoming our tendency toward holding grudges and resentment, and as love overcoming anger.  Although the story of Joseph and his brothers concludes in chapters 46-50 with considerably less drama and tension than characterized its bulk, distrust and the fear of reprisal for old wrongs overshadow Jacob's family until the closing words of its story (50:15-21). The biblical writer does not avoid the hard truth that for humans, at least, the past is never completely gone. When Narvaez, the Spanish patriot, lay dying, his father-confessor asked him whether he had forgiven all his enemies. Narvaez looked astonished and said, “Father, I have no enemies, I have shot them all.” Joseph has now learned, through a series of tests, that his brothers, once murderers, have changed to people of honor and compassion. Joseph has used this time in Egypt to become a person of character. When he sees his brothers, he has every right to move against them. Instead, he invites them to come close, thereby extending to them the opportunity to reconcile with him. He forgives them. He even sees the hand of God at work in it all. Yet, the story of Joseph is less a "how to" manage anger and more an example of the life-giving results of mercy. This is not to say that those who have been mistreated must instantly run out to offer undeserved leniency to their tormentors. Instead, the story encourages us to place ourselves in the hands of God, the fountain of forgiveness and the source of new life. The most life-giving response to bullies and abusers may be to give them a wide berth and deny them any further destructive influence over our lives. What Joseph models is the refusal to allow those evildoers any power over his life. Instead of permitting the resulting anger to destroy him, thus compounding the damage already done to him, he refuses to allow anger to take over his life and define his actions. He will not lose control of his emotions, but more importantly, he retains control over his life. Anger and fear are not directing his actions. He is able to choose how to respond to his brothers. He puts anger behind him and offers them new life.

Before certain thoughts one stands in bewilderment, especially at the sight of human sin, and one asks oneself, "Should I take it by force or by humble love?"

 Always determine: "I shall take it by humble love." If thus you determine once and for all, you will be able to subdue the whole world. Loving humility is a terrible force, the most terrible of all, the like of which there is none.

 --Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov (Penguin, 2003). 

            A childhood accident caused poet Elizabeth Barrett to lead a life of semi-invalidism before she married Robert Browning in 1846. There is more to the story. In her youth, a tyrannical father watched over Elizabeth. When she and Robert were married, they held their wedding in secret because of her father’s disapproval. After the wedding, the Brownings sailed for Italy, where they lived for the rest of their lives. Nevertheless, even though her parents had disowned her, Elizabeth never gave up on the relationship. Almost weekly, she wrote them letters. Not once did they reply. After 10 years, she received a large box in the mail. Inside, Elizabeth found all of her letters. According to one story, her parents had not opened even one! I have not read these letters yet, but according to some, they are among the most beautiful in classical English literature. Had her parents only read a few of them, they might have restored their relationship with Elizabeth.

In one of Aristophanes’ comedies, The Acharnians, an aged farmer staggers onto the stage. He is weeping. Enemy soldiers have invaded his land, terrorized his family, and killed both of his oxen. His family is pitifully hungry. However, when someone asks him what he wants, instead of asking for something to eat or something to drink, he says, “What I want more than anything else is for a drop of peace to be poured into my eyes.”

The story of Joseph, if we let it, will touch us at profound levels. We long for reconciliation, but we often do not want to travel the path it will take to get us there, such as developing character, extending an invitation to the offender, forgiveness, seeing the fingerprints of God in it all, and seeking the good of others. Too often, we want to hold on to the bitterness and anger, exacting what we think is justice in the relationship. Reflecting on the story of Joseph can help us overcome this desire.

            Second, beyond the reconciliation and forgiveness in this family, we also find a lesson in the way the providence of God actually works in human life. What unfolds in the episode is the theological truth of divine providence: neither external circumstances nor twisted human wills can finally thwart the purposes of a loving God who acts in human history. The hand of God has directed all the confusion of human guilt toward a gracious goal.  The author has written so much about the action of people.  It is surprising that Joseph now says the real actor has been God.  The meteoric rise of a Hebrew slave against such a sociopolitical background reinforces the theological point of the narrative: it is divine and not human agency at work. This theological point becomes explicit: "for God sent me before you to preserve life." The theological theme that Joseph's observation identifies reflects upon the total story. The idea of providence expressed in the story — “So it was not you who sent me here, but God” (v. 8).

            Human life is often so messy. We might like everything in our lives to be far more clear and distinct, the next step in our lives to be obvious, and the way forward that we should travel marked clearly. We might prefer human life lived on level, smooth places. However, it does not take long in life to know that the terrain of human life is rocky, hilly, and difficult. There are many twists and turns in life. Other people act upon us, sometimes graciously and sometimes not. We act upon the lives of others, sometimes with grace and kindness, and sometimes not.           In the midst of the confusion of human life, we may wonder where God has been. Of course, it takes a mature faith, meditation, and openness, to see the ways of God in the midst of it all. We can often look back on paths that, at the time, we thought of as painful and difficult. Yet, God has used those paths to bring us to a gracious, healing end. The end human beings seek is often self-centered, self-destructive, evil, and hateful. Yet, the end God seeks is reconciliation and peace. God seeks the preservation of life. God is so sovereign that even mixed human motives God can work through to bring people reconciliation. Of course, the fact that reconciliation does not always happen on this earth means that some healing of relationships is a promise that will not occur except in eternity.

Joseph’s revelation is a fitting climax to the series of family stories that form the bulk of the beginning of the Bible. It brings together many of the themes that link the disparate materials in Genesis. Among the themes are the nature of human society and its relation to the natural world, the complexities of family dynamics, the struggle for group identity and survival, the competing demands of insiders and outsiders, the interplay of loyalty, betrayal, selfishness and altruism, and perhaps most important of all, the nature of divine intention and God’s interaction with the world.

We might even say, "Man proposes, but God disposes"[1] sums up Genesis 45:1-15 and 50:14-21. We might recall many Psalms that pray that God will spoil the plans of those who plot against them. Proverbs 16:1-9 and 19-21 say that the human mind or heart devises plans, but the purpose of God will find victory. It suggests that what appears to be the human case is, in fact, not the case, but is, rather, a working out of a much grander hidden divine plan. However, such a view is more at home in the later stages of Israelite religion, when Israelite thought had been influenced by the wisdom tradition that flourished throughout the ancient Near East. Many scholars, in fact, consider the final form of the Joseph story to show extensive evidence of wisdom thought, and most scholars reckon the influence of the wisdom tradition to be a later rather than an earlier development in Israelite religion.

Third, we see an emphasis on preserving life in verse 5. We see this notion obviously in the story of the flood. Less obviously, we see this theme in Genesis 38 and the story of the determination of Tamar to preserve life through a male descendant. Joseph preserved the lives of Egyptians and the life of his family. The theme of preserving life runs prominently but not straightforwardly throughout the story of Jacob’s family. In the Joseph story, the threat to preserving life by the worldwide famine is the occasion for Joseph’s rise to greatness, on the one hand, and his reunion with his family, on the other. The narrative expresses concerns several times to preserve life. In 41:36, the food in reserve supply will preserve life. In 42:2, 18, the hope is that the food in Egypt will preserve the family of Jacob. In 42:20, we find the promise that if the brothers bring Benjamin they will live. In 43:8, Judah wants Jacob to send Benjamin with him so that they will not die.

Fourth, another theme in this story is that of the remnant and survivors in verse 7. The theme is an important one in Genesis. We see it in the story of the flood, in the call of Abraham, in the story of Lot, and in the story of Joseph. God has taken the brother's hate and turned it into good.  The providence of God operates in ways mysterious to us.  Yet, some scholars find the "remnant" God has preserved through Joseph for his brothers, while clear in the narrative, is contextually unexpected. The concept of a remnant (righteous or otherwise) is common enough in later, especially prophetic literature (e.g., throughout the book of Isaiah), but this is the only occurrence of the word in the Pentateuch. Even more noteworthy is the fact that the writer pairs the word with "survivors," as it is in Isaiah 10:20, which come from the period of Josiah (640-609), 15:9 (Isaiah), and 37:32 (from 598-587 BC).  This striking coincidence between this purportedly early material (the bulk of the Joseph story comes from the 10th-9th century B.C.) and late prophetic idiom has led some scholars to conclude that the verse is an insertion in an earlier novella.[2] The idea of a remnant first achieves prominence in Israelite thought with the rise of classical prophecy, where the Hebrew word becomes a technical term. Isaiah 37:4 urges prayer for the few who are left. Isaiah 37:32 shows the determination of Yahweh to preserve a remnant from Jerusalem. In Micah 2:12 the Lord will gather the few left in Israel. We find a similar them in Micah 4:6 and 5:7. In Micah 7:18, even the remnant can rebel. In Jeremiah 23:3, the Lord will gather the remnant. In Jeremiah 31:7, we find a prayer for the Lord to save the remnant. Yet, this is the first and only occurrence of the term in Genesis, although the idea is found, of course, in the story of Noah (Genesis 6:10). Like the idea of a hidden divine providence, the idea of a remnant requires a degree of historical consciousness not characteristic of earliest Israelite thought.

The story of Joseph is powerful and dramatic. Instead of exacting revenge, Joseph uses his power and influence to provide his family a secure future in the land of Goshen in the northeast part of the Nile delta, a land especially suited for small animal grazing. Joseph has reunited with his beloved father. In its canonical context, however, it reminds us of the magdalia dei, the mighty of works of God. The sojourn in Egypt will not end well. From literary and archaeological records of Egypt, we know that peoples of Semitic origin were in Egypt from 2200 to 1550 BC. We see the transition of the biblical story from its focus on the patriarchal founders of Israel to the story of a people who will experience oppression and stand in need of deliverance.

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[1] (Thomas à Kempis, in The Imitation of Christ)

[2] (See Roland E. Murphy in The New Jerome Biblical Commentary, ed. Raymond E. Brown, Joseph A. Fitzmyer, Roland E. Murphy [Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1990], 40).