Our two lessons come to us at a time when our nation is going through another presidential campaign. The campaign is at the center of most people's attention. The coming election in November will impact the lives of Americans and people around the world for years to come. So much is at stake: the war in Iraq, reliance on fossil fuel, health insurance, global warming, the appointment of justices to the Supreme Court. But I haven't heard much if anything about those issues over the last several days.
I hope we can move away from the manipulation of the media by spin experts and by a celebrity mentality and start talking about how we're going to end the war in Iraq, how we're going to pay for that war, which has been piling up the national debt as a burden for our grandchildren. I hope we can start talking again about health insurance for everyone and how we will pay for it. I hope we can look at the ever-growing gap between the very wealthy and everybody else in this country. I hope we can continue to talk about broadening the definition of marriage so that it includes lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered people. I hope we can resume the conversation about alternatives to oil as fuel for the engines of our economy.
The framework for the hopes I have just expressed is the faith we celebrate in this church, the faith that comes to us through the witness of the Bible and the traditions of our Reformed heritage. I read recently that the Internal Revenue Service is expanding its scrutiny of church websites, reading sermons that are preached in churches, cathedrals, synagogues and mosques. The law is clear that tax-exempt organizations like churches are not allowed to endorse specific candidates for office. Theoretically they can lose their tax-exempt status if they do that.
In my fifty years of ministry I have not violated that part of the tax code. I have had bumper stickers on my car (when I owned a car) endorsing candidates, and I have worn buttons endorsing candidates, and I will wear a button endorsing a candidate for the presidency of the United States very soon. But I haven't endorsed a candidate by name from a pulpit. I don't expect to do that this year. But I find it hard to believe that the Internal Revenue Service had no knowledge of the hundreds, maybe thousands, of conservative churches that endorsed George Bush from the pulpit in the last two elections. Beyond that, I believe it is the duty of a conscientious pastor, especially a Presbyterian one, to make connections between the Biblical witness and the world we live in.
Throughout my ministry I have run into people who express the opinion that it's unwise or impolite to discuss religion and politics in social settings. I'm sure you know by now that I am not of such an opinion. I very much believe we need to converse about the things that are important to us, including religion and politics. I have been encouraging members and friends of this congregation to find appropriate ways to share the good news we celebrate when we gather for worship: the reality of God's unconditional, inclusive love for the world. Some of you are doing that through the plays or television programs you write, direct, or perform in. Others of you may be doing that through the music you write, sing, play, or conduct. But all of us have moments when it is good and right to share in conversation what is important to us, what makes us who we are, and why we care about the things we value.
The important thing is we need to have such conversations in ways that are respectful and courteous as well as informed and honest. Obviously people feel strongly about faith and government, or religion and politics. And if a civilization is to survive and flourish, its people need to know how to talk about the values that shape the society. And religion and politics are very much connected to values.
This morning's readings from the Bible lift up the subject of what I will call mercy. The verses from the Letter to the Romans talk about how the strong are to relate to the weak—in this case the strong in faith and the weak in faith. But the focus is the same in other areas of life. The Apostle Paul urges a sense of mutual care and awareness. He writes that "we do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves." He says that we live to God, but the clear implication is what he expresses elsewhere, that "we are members one of another." I hear this as a call to mutuality—a call to concern, especially for the weakest in society, especially for the marginalized, despised and powerless.
The Gospel reading sees mutuality in the process of forgiveness, and it is that mutuality that interests me this morning. The general subject of forgiveness is complex, and it would be unwise to make a rigid rule out of the first part of the reading, the part where Jesus seems to be advocating quick forgiveness of a fellow church member even if the offender repeats the offense four hundred and ninety times or seventy times seven times. Luke gives a different version of what Matthew remembers Jesus as saying. In Luke's Gospel Jesus says, "If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive. 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 him [or her]."
With our present knowledge of psychology, we know that instant forgiveness, or too easy forgiveness, can be injurious to both the victim and the offender. Too often a well-meaning Sunday School teacher, school teacher, parent, or minister has told a bullied child to forgive the bully, placing an even heavier burden on the hurting child and withholding a needed lesson in consequences from the bully. It would be unthinkable to tell any victim of domestic violence simply to forgive the perpetrator. To do so overlooks the importance of justice, repentance, and restitution in the whole process of forgiveness. Forgiveness may be ultimately helpful to the emotional health of the victim but only if it comes after an exploration of the victim's readiness to move in that direction.
The parable that follows the "seventy times seven" saying is best read as a parable and not as an allegory. If you remember, a parable makes a central point, while in an allegory each character or facet of the story has specific meaning. If the story of the unforgiving slave were an allegory, the king would be God, and each one of us could be the unforgiving slave. If we read the story as an allegory we end up with a mean, harsh, and less than admirable God. Matthew tells the story that way, but it makes more sense to understand that Matthew took a parable that Jesus told and turned it into an allegory.
As a parable, the story shows us the indissoluble connection between forgiving and being forgiven, between giving and receiving mercy. That is consistent with Jesus' teaching in the Lord's Prayer: forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. As I said, it is the mutuality of forgiveness that interests me today. Mutuality in a faith community, in a family, in a group of friends, or in a nation requires honest conversation, civil discourse, and a willingness to acknowledge weaknesses and strengths.
Mutuality in the Biblical perspective, as we heard in this morning's readings, means the rich showing real concern for the poor and their needs, sensitivity to differences in religious beliefs and practices, and rigorous honesty in personal and public matters. That kind of mutuality is probably not what we expect from a pit bull. It is what I expect from a leader with a vision for a nation and a world that is clear and specific, a leader with the ability to articulate that vision and energize people to help make it a reality, a leader who doesn't sneer at community organizing because in truth we need to re-organize the community of nations around the world.
There is the story of the tribal elder who was talking with a young initiate. The elder said, "I have within me two competing animals, striving to control my personality. One is calm and reasonable, open to love and kindness, full of hope and good intentions. The other one is conniving, looking for weaknesses in other people in order to pounce and defeat an opponent, shameless in distorting the truth."
"Which one wins?" asked the initiate, "the one who is calm, caring, and reasonable, or the one who is conniving and shameless in distorting the truth?"
"The one I feed," answered the tribal elder.
What part of the national psyche is being fed by the presidential campaigns and by the media? Well, you get the picture. But note that I'm not mentioning names in the pulpit.
To be continued.