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My father, who died almost a decade ago, used to say, "Getting old ain't for sissies."
There are some things in life that don’t come easily, but we struggle through the best we know how.
Getting old is one of those things; forgiveness is another.
Forgiveness ain't for sissies, either.
Forgiveness is not unique to Christianity.
It's also foundational to the other world religions, such as Islam, Baha'i, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Judaism.
Our Jewish brothers and sisters go so far as to set aside high holy days--Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur--and the days of repentance in between,
as a time to look at their own behavior over the past year and to come face to face with the Jewish concept of forgiveness.
Forgiveness is important, it’s not optional,
and it separates those who walk the walk of their faith from those who only talk the talk.
For many Christians, however, we've reduced forgiveness to something that IS optional.
We look at it as something that we really should do, but if we don't, God understands because we're only human, after all, right?
We contemporary Christians have completely lost touch of how critically important the original readers of Matthew's Gospel would have seen forgiveness as.
Our Jewish members of God's family see their own forgiveness by God as being contingent upon the forgiveness that takes place between them and their neighbor.
And if we Christians imagine God's forgiveness to be unconditional,
then we are conveniently skipping Jesus' words which immediately follow the Lord's Prayer in Matthew's Gospel:
"For if you forgive others their trespasses, God will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will God forgive your trespasses."
Friends, I don’t think it can get much plainer than this.
If we ever hope to receive forgiveness from God, we need to forgive others.
But there's another reason for forgiveness, according to Judaism, which has to do with a concept called Tikkun Olam, which means "repairing the world."
According to this notion, we each have a powerful responsibility to change, improve, and fix our earthly surroundings.
Each person has a hand in working towards the betterment of his or her own existence as well as the lives of future generations.
And we accomplish this through deeds of action and social justice, but we also do this through our acts of forgiveness.
We are called to rise above our anger through our acts of forgiveness in order to repair the world in which we live.
So you see, forgiveness, as seen within the Jewish faith, as well as within the context of this morning's scripture reading,
is much, much more than just a nice character trait to which we should aspire.
Forgiveness opens up our relationship with God, and it helps to repair a broken world.
And for that reason, when Peter asked in the 18th chapter of Matthew’s Gospel,
if seven times might be the limit that would be expected of him to forgive another person, Jesus told him he wasn’t even close.
In some translations Jesus replied that 77 times was more like it,
and other translations indicate that Jesus said 70 times seven, or 490 times.
And I would say, "As many times as it takes."
If we Christians took our faith seriously, then not only would we be willing to muddle through our best attempts at forgiveness, but we would do it as many times it took.
Why? Because every time we manage to forgive someone,
then we have taken an active role in repairing a world that is filled with grief and pain and suffering.
We have allowed God's light of hope to shine into a world that has been darkened with despair.
On this day ten years ago, our world was darkened when a series of four coordinated suicide attacks against targets in New York and Washington, D.C. took place.
On that morning, 19 al-Qaeda terrorists hijacked four passenger jets.
The hijackers intentionally crashed two planes into the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York City;
both towers collapsed within two hours. Hijackers crashed a third plane into the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia.
When passengers attempted to take control of the fourth plane, United Airlines 93,
it crashed into a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, preventing it from reaching its intended target in Washington, D.C.
Nearly 3,000 died in the attacks--
acts of terrorism which left the world stunned, and which left Americans angry and resentful.
And these are all justifiable responses.
Justifiable responses to extremist behavior that seems to have succeeded in its goal of heightening our belief that the world is a frightening place in which to live.
But what do we do now? What do we do with all our feelings of hatred and anger and fear and suspicion?
The answer is found in whether we are willing to take part in repairing a broken world or in continuing the ongoing spiral of violence.
Frankly, I don’t know how to do it.
I'm not yet at a place in my life that I can forgive those who are responsible for the deaths and suffering of so many innocent human beings.
But...that doesn't excuse me from continuing to try to forgive...over and over...
70 times 7 times, if need be. Or as many times as is necessary.
If you think what I am suggesting is unreasonable--that that sort of forgiveness just isn't humanly possible--
then let me remind you about another tragedy that took place five years after the 9/11 attacks.
This one happened in the Amish community of Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania.
On October 2, 2006, Charles Roberts shot ten girls, ages 6-13, killing five of them, before turning the gun on himself and committing suicide.
What was even more shocking to the world than the incident itself was the Amish community’s response to it.
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."
And Jack Meyer, a member of the Brethren community living near the Amish in Lancaster County, explained:
"I don't think there's anybody here that wants to do anything but forgive
and not only reach out to those who have suffered a loss in that way but to reach out to the family of the man who committed these acts."
The Roberts family spokesman said an Amish neighbor comforted the Roberts family hours after the shooting and extended forgiveness to them.
Amish community members visited and comforted Roberts's widow, parents, and parents-in-law.
One Amish man held Roberts's sobbing father in his arms, reportedly for as long as an hour, to comfort him.
The Amish also set up a charitable fund for the family of the shooter.
About 30 members of the Amish community attended Roberts's funeral,
and Marie Roberts, the widow of the killer, was one of the few outsiders invited to the funeral of one of the victims.
Marie Roberts wrote an open letter to her Amish neighbors thanking them for their forgiveness, grace, and mercy.
She wrote, "Your love for our family has helped to provide the healing we so desperately need.
Gifts you've given have touched our hearts in a way no words can describe.
Your compassion has reached beyond our family, beyond our community, and is changing the world,
and for this we sincerely thank you."
This is the response to which we are called.
We have been called to challenge and to change the world with forgiveness. How?
I'm not sure I'm the one to tell you.
But for the sake of our own souls as well as the world’s repair,
we need to figure out how to do this thing called forgiveness...if we are serious about our faith. Amen.