I'm thinking a lot about forgiveness lately. I'll spare you the details, but this passage, from John 20, keeps coming back to mind:
I squirm because Jesus' audience here isn't just a few rag-tag group of disciples gathered around him. No, his audience is wide. As wide as the Church.
Where Catholics find confirmation of their ecclesiology, Protestants find a hurdle. That hurdle is John 20.19-23. Because here Jesus is addressing every Christian.
And it exposes the deepest problem with being a Protestant.
Protestants tend, almost completely, to ignore the communal act of forgiveness. We care more for the forgiveness of Jesus, and less for the forgiveness of, say, Bob.
But if we take John 20 seriously, we should be worried about Bob's forgiveness, too.
Because John 20 really ups the stakes here. Jesus suggests that failing to become a community of forgiveness -- failing to forgive each other -- will have eternal consequences. When we fail to forgive each other on earth nothing in our private experiences will Jesus will wipe away that sin. Until forgiveness is experienced among our brothers and sisters that sin, in some form or another, remains on the books. If we want forgiveness, Jesus is saying, it's up to us.
That last sentence is alarming. But stay with me for a minute.
Imagine if what Jesus is saying is actually the truth. We're all "Church" together. And, like what happens when you get humans in groups, this group is bound to have members that can and do hurt one another. But being followers of Jesus who are called into this community, we exercise the nonviolent, non-judgmental love that seeks out the reconciliation of the offender with the offended. We have, as Paul puts it, been invested with this "ministry of reconciliation" (2 Corinthians 5.18). And as reconcilers, we take our common life with this much seriousness:
And lest anyone think I mean that forgiveness is a juridical thing, it isn't. Forgiveness isn't about the mathematics of cancelling debts. It's not as simple as overlooking faults. No, genuine forgiveness is nothing less -- for Jesus -- than the refusal to treat one another as oppressors or victims. Forgiveness of sins, for this community called Church, is a new way of living together that eschews all forms of violence (even interpersonal ones) and seeks to live life as a gift from God.
That's why reconciliation is so central to any ecclesiology. If we take Jesus seriously, any outstanding forgiveness is unforgiven -- now, and in the Kingdom to come.
That's a tough thing to swallow for we Protestants.
But there's a moral genius at work here. So bear with me for a few minutes.
Remember Bob? Let's say that Jesus was serious and that mine and Bob's forgiveness of one another is literally bound up with God's forgiveness of us.
This makes my forgiveness of Bob -- and Bob's forgiveness of me -- a swift kick in the pants. It's not an option. It's not something to postpone -- especially not indefinitely. Outstanding sins on earth becomes outstanding sins in heaven.
Because here's the problem with so much modern Christianity: We're worried about God forgiving us, but not so much about being reconciled to others. It's much easier for us to pray to God and ask for forgiveness, but it's harder to do the work of going to others and forgiving, or being forgiven.
What Jesus is saying is pretty simple: There are longer consequences to what we do with one another on earth. Forgiveness in heaven is irrelevant if there's no forgiveness on earth. Why fall down at the altar and ask for God's forgiveness when I need to fall down at Bob's feet and ask for his forgiveness first?
Because I think that's exactly what Jesus says in Matthew 5. Bob's forgiveness is more pressing, more important, and more vital than God's forgiveness at the altar.
Or let's try it this way.
Imagine you're a parent with a child on the playground. Your child gets into a little fight with another child and punches, as little kids can do, the other child. You jump in to scold your child. Your child, feeling contrite, looks at you and says, "I'm sorry".
What does any good parent do in that moment?
"I appreciate that, but you really need to go say sorry to that little boy over there."
I think that's what Jesus is saying. Jesus is effectively saying, "As God's representative on earth I forgive you. So you don't have to worry about that anymore. You don't have to go to the temple and make sacrifices anymore to secure God's pardon. In my life, death and resurrection I've ended your need to seek forgiveness from God. I have forgiven you. Now you are released to live out that forgiveness with each other. Those are the actions -- your forgiveness of each other -- which will determine your eternal destiny. How you forgive on earth is how you will be forgiven in heaven."
I think that's the heart of Jesus' message on forgiveness.
Consider the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant in Matthew 18. Or this little saying from Luke 6, that's used in a variety of places in the same way: "Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven".
And here's the deal, even if you reject this strong formulation it is indisputable that if I restrict forgiveness to what happens between God and myself energy and urgency is sapped from seeking forgiveness from others because that just isn't my most pressing concern. I think we've seen the practical effects of this all over the place. I sin against Bob and then seek forgiveness from God in prayer. I never really get around to seeking reconciliation with Bob. That's just not my central concern. And it might not be a concern at all.
Now, I know there's an objection here. What if I forgive Bob, but Bob doesn't forgive me? Can Bob keep an outstanding sin again me, and thereby create an outstanding sin in the Kingdom? Doesn't that mean Bob holds my eternal destiny in his hands, which might be rather capricious. Bob could hold grudges, after all. Does that mean I'm doomed?
Three responses.
First, if you're more worried about your own skin at this point, you've really missed Jesus' point all along. I'd go think about that. Quit worrying about hell and talk to Bob. If you talk to Bob, trust God to have done his part. But talk to Bob.
Secondly, there's a spiritual symmetry here. Bob is supposed to seek you out, too. Because Bob is commanded to forgive you. And if Bob's not doing that, he's damned himself. You don't have to worry about if Bob does or doesn't forgive you. You just have to take care of your own responsibilities. Which means to seek Bob out and talk to him. I think that's why Paul says it the way he does in Romans 12: "As much as it depends on you, live peaceably with others".
Thirdly, there's a communal idea in Jesus' statement. Don't make this too individualized. A community where I am to forgive Bob and Bob is to forgive me and there are others around us helping us both to do this. That is, I don't think it's best to think of two people keeping score. I think what Jesus is doing in John 20 is giving us a picture of the Kingdom of God on earth. Sure, any given expression of this will fall short of the ideal. But that doesn't take away from the vision of what Jesus is calling us to, that if we want God's forgiveness in heaven we should be focusing on forgiving each other on earth. By ending the temple sacrifices God pushed forgiveness out of heaven and onto the earth -- out of the temple and into the church. A community of forgiveness replaces sacrifices on an altar.
So we come back 'round to the scary question I asked at the beginning: If Jesus was right, does that mean I hold the eternal destiny of others in my hands?
I wonder if that's exactly what Jesus says.
And, for the record, I'm not alone.
On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you!" After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.My Catholic brothers and sisters don't squirm when they read that. But I do.
Again Jesus said, "Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you." And with that he breathed on them and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone's sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven".
I squirm because Jesus' audience here isn't just a few rag-tag group of disciples gathered around him. No, his audience is wide. As wide as the Church.
Where Catholics find confirmation of their ecclesiology, Protestants find a hurdle. That hurdle is John 20.19-23. Because here Jesus is addressing every Christian.
And it exposes the deepest problem with being a Protestant.
Protestants tend, almost completely, to ignore the communal act of forgiveness. We care more for the forgiveness of Jesus, and less for the forgiveness of, say, Bob.
But if we take John 20 seriously, we should be worried about Bob's forgiveness, too.
Because John 20 really ups the stakes here. Jesus suggests that failing to become a community of forgiveness -- failing to forgive each other -- will have eternal consequences. When we fail to forgive each other on earth nothing in our private experiences will Jesus will wipe away that sin. Until forgiveness is experienced among our brothers and sisters that sin, in some form or another, remains on the books. If we want forgiveness, Jesus is saying, it's up to us.
That last sentence is alarming. But stay with me for a minute.
Imagine if what Jesus is saying is actually the truth. We're all "Church" together. And, like what happens when you get humans in groups, this group is bound to have members that can and do hurt one another. But being followers of Jesus who are called into this community, we exercise the nonviolent, non-judgmental love that seeks out the reconciliation of the offender with the offended. We have, as Paul puts it, been invested with this "ministry of reconciliation" (2 Corinthians 5.18). And as reconcilers, we take our common life with this much seriousness:
Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift (Matthew 5.23-24).That is, before we do anything else -- sing, pray, take communion, read Scripture, whatever -- we work on forgiving one another. This act of reconciling defines us more than any other act. It's this forgiveness of sins that is spread around that Jesus means to characterize his Body. All other communities where that forgiveness is postponed -- for worship, song, sermons, prayer, classes, ministry or communion -- are false churches.
And lest anyone think I mean that forgiveness is a juridical thing, it isn't. Forgiveness isn't about the mathematics of cancelling debts. It's not as simple as overlooking faults. No, genuine forgiveness is nothing less -- for Jesus -- than the refusal to treat one another as oppressors or victims. Forgiveness of sins, for this community called Church, is a new way of living together that eschews all forms of violence (even interpersonal ones) and seeks to live life as a gift from God.
That's why reconciliation is so central to any ecclesiology. If we take Jesus seriously, any outstanding forgiveness is unforgiven -- now, and in the Kingdom to come.
That's a tough thing to swallow for we Protestants.
But there's a moral genius at work here. So bear with me for a few minutes.
Remember Bob? Let's say that Jesus was serious and that mine and Bob's forgiveness of one another is literally bound up with God's forgiveness of us.
This makes my forgiveness of Bob -- and Bob's forgiveness of me -- a swift kick in the pants. It's not an option. It's not something to postpone -- especially not indefinitely. Outstanding sins on earth becomes outstanding sins in heaven.
Because here's the problem with so much modern Christianity: We're worried about God forgiving us, but not so much about being reconciled to others. It's much easier for us to pray to God and ask for forgiveness, but it's harder to do the work of going to others and forgiving, or being forgiven.
What Jesus is saying is pretty simple: There are longer consequences to what we do with one another on earth. Forgiveness in heaven is irrelevant if there's no forgiveness on earth. Why fall down at the altar and ask for God's forgiveness when I need to fall down at Bob's feet and ask for his forgiveness first?
Because I think that's exactly what Jesus says in Matthew 5. Bob's forgiveness is more pressing, more important, and more vital than God's forgiveness at the altar.
Or let's try it this way.
Imagine you're a parent with a child on the playground. Your child gets into a little fight with another child and punches, as little kids can do, the other child. You jump in to scold your child. Your child, feeling contrite, looks at you and says, "I'm sorry".
What does any good parent do in that moment?
"I appreciate that, but you really need to go say sorry to that little boy over there."
I think that's what Jesus is saying. Jesus is effectively saying, "As God's representative on earth I forgive you. So you don't have to worry about that anymore. You don't have to go to the temple and make sacrifices anymore to secure God's pardon. In my life, death and resurrection I've ended your need to seek forgiveness from God. I have forgiven you. Now you are released to live out that forgiveness with each other. Those are the actions -- your forgiveness of each other -- which will determine your eternal destiny. How you forgive on earth is how you will be forgiven in heaven."
I think that's the heart of Jesus' message on forgiveness.
Consider the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant in Matthew 18. Or this little saying from Luke 6, that's used in a variety of places in the same way: "Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven".
And here's the deal, even if you reject this strong formulation it is indisputable that if I restrict forgiveness to what happens between God and myself energy and urgency is sapped from seeking forgiveness from others because that just isn't my most pressing concern. I think we've seen the practical effects of this all over the place. I sin against Bob and then seek forgiveness from God in prayer. I never really get around to seeking reconciliation with Bob. That's just not my central concern. And it might not be a concern at all.
Now, I know there's an objection here. What if I forgive Bob, but Bob doesn't forgive me? Can Bob keep an outstanding sin again me, and thereby create an outstanding sin in the Kingdom? Doesn't that mean Bob holds my eternal destiny in his hands, which might be rather capricious. Bob could hold grudges, after all. Does that mean I'm doomed?
Three responses.
First, if you're more worried about your own skin at this point, you've really missed Jesus' point all along. I'd go think about that. Quit worrying about hell and talk to Bob. If you talk to Bob, trust God to have done his part. But talk to Bob.
Secondly, there's a spiritual symmetry here. Bob is supposed to seek you out, too. Because Bob is commanded to forgive you. And if Bob's not doing that, he's damned himself. You don't have to worry about if Bob does or doesn't forgive you. You just have to take care of your own responsibilities. Which means to seek Bob out and talk to him. I think that's why Paul says it the way he does in Romans 12: "As much as it depends on you, live peaceably with others".
Thirdly, there's a communal idea in Jesus' statement. Don't make this too individualized. A community where I am to forgive Bob and Bob is to forgive me and there are others around us helping us both to do this. That is, I don't think it's best to think of two people keeping score. I think what Jesus is doing in John 20 is giving us a picture of the Kingdom of God on earth. Sure, any given expression of this will fall short of the ideal. But that doesn't take away from the vision of what Jesus is calling us to, that if we want God's forgiveness in heaven we should be focusing on forgiving each other on earth. By ending the temple sacrifices God pushed forgiveness out of heaven and onto the earth -- out of the temple and into the church. A community of forgiveness replaces sacrifices on an altar.
So we come back 'round to the scary question I asked at the beginning: If Jesus was right, does that mean I hold the eternal destiny of others in my hands?
I wonder if that's exactly what Jesus says.
And, for the record, I'm not alone.
