Sunday, September 13, 2020

All Apologies: Sermon for Proper 19A



As a Christian, as especially as a preacher, I always approach this reading with a good dose of fear and trepidation. I have had people attempt to use this injunction against me—and I bet you may have too. You know what I am talking about—the person who knows that as a Christian we are supposed to forgive, and when they have knowingly done wrong, perfunctorily apologize and demand forgiveness.

Now maybe you can go ahead and forgive them—but unless their request for forgiveness is back up by a turning away from the habit or action that caused the initial injury, the relationship cannot be fully reconciled. 

To be very clear: Jesus does not expect us to deliberately place ourselves at the mercy of those who abuse us or even just take advantage of our good graces. Asking forgiveness is not a get-out-of-jail-free card. Asking forgiveness without being willing to make amends and to name specifically what one has done does nothing to actually create a spirit of reconciliation.


And let’s face it. We live in an era where the non-apology has become an art form. 

Apologizing makes one vulnerable—even sometimes legally vulnerable. 

People try to wriggle out of apologizing so that they won’t be seen as being at fault. 

Some examples include, for starters, anything with “I’m sorry” followed by “but,” “if,” or “that you….” Such as

1. “I’m sorry if you were hurt.” This is called a “conditional apology.” It can be used to gaslight the person who was hurt by suggesting that the wrong didn’t really happen. And speaking of gaslighting, there’s

2. “You know I would never…” Nothing to see here folks! Didn’t happen. Why are you so sensitive?

3. “I’m sorry that you…” This is called a "blame-shifting apology"—it puts the onus on the person hurt and evades making the wrongdoer the subject of the sentence.

4. “I’m sorry, but ...” This is the “excuse-making apology.” It is worse than saying nothing at all.

5. “Mistakes were made…” Nice "passive voice" non-apology there. Mistakes just sprung up out of nowhere!

6. “I regret that you were injured…” This so-called “side-stepping apology” is also terribly passive voiced.

7. “I guess I should apologize…” Also known as a “phantom apology,” it also never actually apologizes AND is self-delusional while also trying to inject doubt into the admission of fault.

8. “If anyone was offended by my behavior, I apologize.” This one seems to be a favorite of politicians. What does that even mean? If no one was offended, I got away with it? There’s even a great word for this one: the “ifpology.”

9. “I was just… (kidding, trying to help, etc.) This is known as a “self-justifying apology.”

10. “The Devil made me do it/I am not that person” which shifts blame onto, no kidding, Satan, The Prince of Darkness, Lord of Hell. This was an actual excuse used most recently by an Arkansas sheriff recently who was caught using repeated and disgusting racial slurs in a tirade. This is the "demonic possession" non-apology, I guess.


Apologizing sometimes seems to be harder than forgiveness in our culture. And that is exactly why using today’s gospel for self-reflection is so necessary.

We are always interested in mercy, as long as those receiving mercy have not harmed us personally. But, as we discussed last week, the far more difficult thing to do is to get our own house in order and forgive those who hurt us, even when they do it repeatedly. Some other scriptural reminders that this has been true throughout cultures and throughout time:

“Do not be so confident of forgiveness
that you add sin to sin.” (Ecclesiasticus 5:5)

Yet a common misperception is that the verses we’ve been hearing about forgiveness and reconciliation have only to do with approaching the offender. Jesus is advocating care for both the offender and the injured party.

Jesus calls us to forgive, and to remember that we ourselves have been unconditionally forgiven by both God and others in our lives. But forgiveness does not take away the original injury. And one of the great sicknesses in American society is a lack of empathy for others—an ability to discount or deny the validity of others’ suffering and pain. In the places in our own lives where we have hurt others, an illustration I like to use is that of a piece of paper, fresh out of the package. If you wad up the piece of paper, no matter how much you try to flatten it out, it will always bear the mark of having been crumpled. Even when you say “Sorry” to the paper, it will never be the same.


Peter’s question that opens our gospel reading today should be relatable to most of us. Peter wants to know what the limit is. He wants to know when he is let off the hook if someone continually injures him. He starts—like most of us—in thinking about times when he has been the injured party. Yet how would the question change if we approached it from the position of the transgressor? “Lord, how many times should my brother, sister, or friend forgive me?” Do we want the answer then just to be only seven? I am certain that I could pile up seven offenses against my loved ones in a very short amount of time. When we are on the giving end, we like to limit our obligation. When we are on the receiving end, we want a never-ending stream.

This gospel message calls us into something that is uncomfortable for many of us—reflection. In our busy lives, this is hard for us. It hurts if we have either been terribly hurt by someone who has not sought reconciliation. But it is FAR WORSE if we ourselves are the ones who have wronged someone and we have not sought not just forgiveness but reconciliation. 

And that’s the thing—we are pretty apt to view forgiveness from the perspective of the person who has been hurt. But we also have erred. 
We’ve been bad friends. 
We have betrayed confidences, or said something unkind behind someone’s back, or lied, or cheated. 
We have cut people out of our lives when they were too much trouble, or became too needy, or just when their friendship just became inconvenient. 

It’s important to go back through this gospel and look at from the perspective of one who has hurt others either by what we have done, or by what we have remained silent about—what we have refused to acknowledge. Jesus here is not just calling us to forgive, but more importantly, is calling us to examine ourselves.

This is a daunting task indeed—impossible for any individual. To try to live a life based on the determination to forgive as is described here would require help. That’s when we remember that these instructions Jesus gives us are addressed to the community of faith—to the Church. We are reminded of the communal nature of this commitment to forgiveness every time we say the Lord’s Prayer together at worship and repeat, “Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.”

Because we have been fasting from Eucharist in this time of pandemic, it has been a long while since we have said the Lord’s Prayer together. But there’s another prayer we do say that reminds us that forgiveness is a two way street. Thinking about forgiveness from the perspective of the person who has been sinned against is easy. Thinking about forgiveness from the perspective of being the person who has harmed others is harder—our tendency is to flinch from that, or deny our fault altogether.

Yet anyone who denies that they hurt others is dangerously fooling themselves. As the Church, we are called to the work of discipleship—by both reaching out to the world to share the good news of Jesus, but also by holding each other accountable. By naming sin as SIN, and not just an “accident.” Everyone sins. Everyone has things for which they need to atone—both for the sake of the person they have hurt, and for their own sakes. Thinking you have nothing to apologize for is the mark of a narcissist.

So how DO we apologize? By acknowledging that sin exists both individually and systematically. Listen to the words of the Confession we often say this service. We often say it together in a block, it’s hard to see how much is being said here. Let’s look at it on page 12 of our service leaflet together:

"Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name."

What does this mean? Let’s take it apart.

“Most merciful God,” -- we are reminded that God’s very being exudes mercy and grace.

“We confess that we have sinned against you”—We confess. Together. And we confess that each time we have sinned, we have harmed our relationship with God who calls us to be a new creation in Christ.

“in thought, word, and deed,”—Our sins start even in our intentions and snap judgments inside our heads, that little sarcastic silent running commentary no one usually hears, and includes even careless words as well as deliberate choice.

“by what we have done,” -- these are known as “sins of commission;” we did something that hurt someone else.

“and by what we have left undone.”—This is actually an important point to understand. By failing to act or refusing to acknowledge the hurt even our passive acceptance or support of a wrong, we sin. And the excuse of “that’s just the way it is” doesn’t excuse us.

“We have not loved you with our whole heart;” -- this refers to the ancient Jewish statement of belief, the Shema Yisrael found in Deuteronomy, that promise to love the Lord your God with all your heart, your strength, and your mind.

we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.”—this ties to the Great Commandment that we have discussed several times recently. We should love those around us and care for them as if we were caring for our very own self.

“We are truly sorry and we humbly repent.”
– No dodging. Just acceptance of blame and a determination to turn from the path of sin and being the cause of pain for others. In the Greek, it’s called metanoia—the turning to repentance.

“For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us;”-- We are God’s children alongside Jesus, and as children seek reconciliation.

“that we may delight in your will,”—Love does not insist on its own way, but delights in the wellbeing of the beloved. Likewise, God’s will for us is our full flourishing. If we look at it this way rather than as “submission"—a word that scares far too many, we will DELIGHT in making God’s will our own.

“and walk in your ways,”-- As disciples it is not own way, but the way of Love as revealed in Jesus that we are called to emulate.

“to the glory of your Name. Amen.”-- Our actions as professed Christians should bring glory to God- Our lives should be our most powerful testimony to God’s goodness. And “Amen” signals our full-bodied assent to this new creation God is calling us to be, seeking forgiveness and reconciliation with all.

This willingness to apologize and turn aside from holding grudges is anything but bad news! No! This is the way of freedom. The way of compassion and empathy for others, that hopefully will lead us to be more mindful in our care of each other and faithfulness to God. In this way, we are given new life in Christ, and renewal of the bonds of community which are more important now than ever.

Amen.


Preached at the 10:30 am worship service at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, MO on September 13, 2020

Readings:

Citations:
1) Top image is Forgiveness © Jan Richardson. Used by permission from janrichardson.com.

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