AMCP 13 September 2020

Matthew 18: 21 – 35

Very regularly I hear a gospel reading seemingly for the first time. New meaning leaps out at me. There is a fresh understanding. Sometimes, this revelation literally takes my breath away.

This was my experience when I heard this reading (as though it was for the first time) in 2003. I had just been appointed as Principal of Wesley College; and I found myself attending a Disciplinary Committee meeting of the Board of Trustees. Though I must have set the procedure in motion by suspending the boy concerned, I don’t remember the reason for doing this. I do however remember the outcome. The Board decided to exclude the young boy. They clearly agreed with their Principal that the action that led to the boy being suspended was very serious and that he could no longer attend Wesley College.

One reason for me having a recollection that remains with me some 18 years later, is that this was the first time I had been party to a pupil being excluded from school. While I had been a school Principal for some 12 years prior to this memorable day, I had never personally been associated with events leading to a pupil being excluded.

The second reason for this memory is that I had prepared to advise the gathered school of this outcome at assembly the next day. At Wesley College each school day begins with a chapel service. The Chaplain for the day chooses the reading, and after the singing of a hymn, gives a brief explanation.
The Principal follows with any announcements. On this particular day the chaplain chose Matthew 18: 21 – 35 as the reading. We had not spoken, and I did not know what was about to unfold. Those words we’ve heard today were read. This seemingly contradictory juxtaposition of an exclusion from school and consideration of where forgiveness fits in everyday living had not been planned. I could not follow and announce what had happened the night before!

The story does not end there. Shortly after, I began to develop an understanding of restorative practices. The Ministry of Education was concerned about the high number of suspensions, exclusions and expulsions in New Zealand secondary schools. An Australian, Margaret Thorsborne, was invited to New Zealand. She had pioneered the introduction of restorative practices in some of Australia’s schools. Reports were that restorative practices in Australian schools had led to a reduction in the number of those being denied further education; and, more importantly, to the development of more peaceful and cooperative behaviours and relationships between the adults (those in positions of power) and the young adults, pupils of the school (those negotiating relationships in adolescence).

I went to a seminar and heard Margaret speak. This led to further exploration of the restorative practice model and its gradual introduction to Wesley College. It was hard work changing ingrained adult and young adult behaviours and understanding of relationships.

What I can confidently say was that where an understanding of being restorative in practice developed, so did more cooperative behaviours. Tension and presumed anti-authoritarian stances became less noticeable.

All of this came from a few verses of scripture, appropriate for a one day in time, and set within the wider story of the gospel passage, and also the broader story of a school at a particular point of time. As I’ve pondered on this, my journey, over the last week, I have also recalled two quite remarkable high-profile demonstrations of forgiveness being extended in the most amazing circumstances.

The first is set in Pennsylvania in 2006. A lone gunman entered an Amish school and shot 5 young schoolgirls; a saga that concluded when he took his own life. New Zealanders sheltered at that time from these events by culture and distance, were horrified that this could happen in the 21st century world. Then, we were amazed when we heard that this Amish community not only comforted the gunman’s wife and children: they forgave him. Then, to add to our amazement, the Amish community was reviled by the media because they forgave even as they mourned the death of their own innocent children. On the day of the shooting, a grandfather of one of the murdered Amish girls was heard warning some young relatives not to hate the killer, saying, "We must not think evil of this man." Another Amish father noted, "He had a mother and a wife and a soul, and now he's standing before a just God." The media question of the time was: ‘Are these people crazy? How can people forgive such heinous crimes against innocents?’ The media feeling being expressed was:
‘Yes, Jesus said forgive, but surely, there must be a limit – and these crazy Amish folk crossed it!’

The second example is closer to home. On March 15 last year a gunman shot and killed 51 Muslims in two places of worship in Christchurch, New Zealand. In 2006 we may have said by culture and distance were separated from such horrific events. We can no longer make that claim. What we can say is that this nation did not sink into further acts of barbarity.
The Muslim community was embraced. The Prime Minister publicly stated: ‘You are us’.

In a similar model to the Amish lens – and viewed through the lens of a separate faith tradition – as the gunman in this situation was hearing impact reports in the Christchurch High Court prior to sentencing, a mother, Janna Ezat, whose son Hussein Al-Umari was one of those murdered at Al Noor Mosque, gave this message to the gunman: “I decided to forgive you Mr Tarrant because I don’t have hate. I don’t have revenge. In our Muslim faith we say … we are able to forgive … forgive. I forgive you. Damage was done and Hussein will never be here so I have only one choice …to forgive you.”

We have had a message read to us again today. Jesus said forgive not once, not seven times, but seventy times seven. What do we make of this? What can we make of this? And then, as we make our consideration, we are confronted by a parable. In some places it’s known as the parable of the unforgiving servant, or the parable of the unmerciful servant. Using the words of today’s translation, the parable is about the errant official found out during an audit. The assumption is that he’s misappropriated significant funds. This official is forgiven by the ruler. Then what happens? We hear that this official goes out and throws colleague in prison. By comparison, this colleague owed only a small fraction of what was owed by the first official: the equivalent of twenty dollars. Do we hear in the gospel account that the wicked slave then gets his just punishment? We may say ‘good!’ He deserved that. However, we may forget that he was punished not because he owed money, but because he didn’t forgive!

Now, let me to return to the 2006 Amish story. The ability of this community to forgive came from the centre of their world view: their theology. The Amish believe the words of the prayer – one which we will repeat in a different form shortly – ‘as we forgive those who trespass against us’, are words of intent imperative to the way in which life is lived. In the account of those events of 2006 it was made very clear forgiveness did not take away the burning sense of loss felt with the loss of their children. The old cliché ‘Forgive and forget’ just didn’t work. Reality was that forgiveness doesn’t numb minds and hearts to the pain we feel. Forgiveness doesn’t mean that perpetrators must not be stopped just because our hearts have warmed and there is a fuzzy sense of wellbeing.

We may offer the difficulty of our forgiveness to God:
and we may pray that we might hold the hurt of others in our hearts, while we place those we need to forgive into God’s hands. We may also want to look at forgiveness closer to home.
This may be harder than forgiveness for events that happen at a distance. When we are the ones that have been hurt, we might find forgiveness of family members difficult. How many stories have we heard of brothers and sisters not speaking to each other for years, or churches being divided over incidents. Hurt goes deep.

Being the first to seek reconciliation is hard, but that’s what Jesus means when he says ’70 times 7’. The good news (the gospel story) is that we are not alone when we are called to forgive or to seek reconciliation. In it all, God is with us. We know though our knowledge of the example of Jesus, our Christ, that God is within each one of us, and God is our strength.

I pray that each person viewing today’s service is excited by the call of Jesus to explore what it means to forgive. I also pray that we may all strive to remember and respond to the words made by Jesus when asked the question, “Lord, if a sister or brother sins against me, how often should I forgive?
As many as seven times? And to hear the answer, ‘Not seven times, but, I tell you seven times seventy times’.

Thanks be to God, today and every day.
Amen