[Propertalk] proper 15 a

Wed Aug 10 22:46:48 EDT 2011

This is up for editing, but it's here 8 - )

Bob

THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ST. ALBAN, ALBANY                   THE NINTH 
SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST – A
GENESIS 45:1-15					           		  PROPER 15 A
ROMANS 11:1-2a, 29-32					               14th AUGUST, 2011
MATTHEW 15:10-28 					     	               PSALM 133

	Forgiveness is so horrendously difficult. There’s none of us who can be 
completely comfortable with it, no matter on what level we’re talking. 
Yet it’s at the heart of our pledge to follow Jesus.

	We’re less than a month away from the tenth anniversary of the wrecked 
passenger planes and the loss of life of thousands of people in New 
York, Washington D.C and a spot in the countryside in Pennsylvania. 
People have been thinking about this already for quite some time now. 
How will they feel? What reactions will their emotions produce? And how 
have they grown as individuals, how have WE grown as a nation since that 
day?

	I have a couple of friends whose birthday falls on the 11th September 
and one of them wishes he’d never been born on that day. He said it’s 
just not possible to celebrate.

	It’s an understandable reaction. To have people plot, deviously, to 
take the lives of others, to control millions, to toy with their 
emotions as if they were merely playthings to amuse – all of that seems 
incomprehensible to most of us, for which I’m truly grateful. To take 
this as anything like acceptable practice seems beyond understanding. To 
set out to kill, to maim, to terrorise, to destroy even the smallest 
part of humanity, seems incredible, particularly if we’re approaching 
this from the perspective of followers of Jesus, who pointed out the 
sacredness of life and was so furious when He saw people being abused or 
denigrated. Yet we do it – WE as individuals, we as a congregation, we 
as a State and as a nation.

	We may not be quite up front about it, but we’re quite capable of 
plotting someone’s downfall. We may be so used to it by now that we 
hardly notice what we do to other people on the freeway, or even the 
grocery line. And if someone dares to sit in our pew in church, or take 
our favourite coffee mug at the time of refreshment after the liturgy – 
even if these people had no idea that it was supposedly our pew, far 
less our coffee mug – if anyone tries to do something like that we 
certainly spend a split second trying to cut that person down to size.

	So, if we do that to people we know, what are we likely to do to those 
whom we don’t know and for whom we have no feelings? What if someone 
desperately seeking a relationship with Jesus, for whatever might be 
troubling her or him today; what if someone desperately trying to find 
solace and a comforting smile; what if someone came through these doors? 
How would we respond?

	A month ago the Executive Council of the Episcopal Church, at it’s 
meeting in Baltimore, considered just these thoughts, along with the 
upcoming tenth anniversary, and put out a suggestion to every 
congregation of The Episcopal Church.

	“Invite Episcopal communities of all kinds ‘to open the doors of their 
institutions the weekend of September 10 and 11 to commemorate the 10th 
anniversary of the 9/11 attacks with acts of prayer and remembrance, 
service, creativity, inter-faith cooperation, education, community 
building, and fellowship, offering our institutions as active, 
accessible sites of healing for our local communities.’”  1

	It’s another way of saying, no matter what you do to me, I’ve been 
taught to forgive. But, gosh, is it hard!

	That’s the major emphasis of the first scripture reading this morning.

	Joseph had ALWAYS been such a royal pain! He had his father wrapped 
around his little finger. He cajoled the best and most flamboyant 
clothing out of his mother. He was insufferably arrogant to his brothers 
and sisters. Thank God I don’t have a sibling or a child like him! But 
we all know folk like him. They’re everywhere. They’re probably even 
here. They’re the people for whom the expression “throwing someone under 
the bus” was probably coined, and that was likely letting such people 
off lightly, at that!

	I can see how selling that insolent little twerp into slavery could 
have been done without a moment’s hesitation.

	We know how the story continued. We know how it came to the point 
described this morning in that first reading. Somewhere along the line, 
Joseph learned how to relate to other people, to take account of their 
feelings, to work for the well-being of all society, not to push his 
talents as a dream-interpreter or whatever and think that he was the 
greatest thing since, well, Sigmund Freud.
	So when he could have wrung the necks of those who’d dropped that bomb 
on him, instead, after a little surreptitious horse-play, instead of 
wringing their necks, he embraced their necks, hugging them, restoring 
the family once again.

	He flat out forgave them. He opened wide the doors of his heart as well 
as his palace and he drew in those who’d wronged him.

	How easy is that for US to do?

	In an article in a book of responses to a story that Simon Wiesenthal 
wrote, Archbishop Desmond Tutu said, “I have been overwhelmed by the 
depth of depravity and evil that has been exposed by the amnesty process 
of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission appointed to deal with the 
gross human rights violations that happened in our apartheid past.

	“I am devastated to hear police officers describe how they drugged the 
coffee of one of their charges, shot him behind the ear, and then set 
his body on fire. That is bad enough, but … they had a barbecue – 
turning over two sets of meat as it were. That is one side.

	“There is another side – the story of the victims, the survivors who 
were made to suffer so grievously, yet despite this are ready to 
forgive. This magnanimity, this nobility of spirit, is quite 
breathtakingly unbelievable. I have often felt I should say, ‘Let us 
take off our shoes,’ because at this moment we were standing on holy 
ground. …

	“What would I have done? … They are ready to forgive the perpetrators. 
What would I have done? … (South African) President, Nelson Mandela, was 
incarcerated for twenty-seven years and not mollycoddled. His eyesight 
was ruined … his family was harassed. He should by rights be consumed 
and a lust for revenge. The world watched with awe when he so 
magnanimously invited his white jailer to his inauguration as South 
Africa’s first democratically elected President. …

	 “What would I have done? repeated Desmond Tutu. …

	“It is clear that if we look only to retributive justice, (demanding an 
eye for an eye), then we could just as well close up shop. Forgiveness 
is not some nebulous thing. It is practical politics. Without 
forgiveness there is no future.” 2

	A good friend from Denver, a lawyer and sometime judge, now working on 
graduate studies in Theology, wrote a week or so ago, “It troubled me 
when Christians in Colorado tore down the 15 crosses put up to honor 
those killed in the Columbine shootings - since the number 15 included 
the two perpetrators.” 3

	Zoe went on to say, “Perhaps it is because we will not accept God's 
forgiveness of us that we are unable to forgive others. Perhaps that is 
why the Church has …” so often failed to speak out on the whole issue of 
forgiveness as opposed to justice, which is often a thinly coated 
code-word for revenge.

	Another story of the on-going quest of our evolution as people who can 
and must forgive was printed back in the last week of July.

	“An Israeli orchestra (was) set to perform a work by Adolf Hitler's 
favorite composer, Richard Wagner, in a taboo-breaking concert in 
Germany. The Israel Chamber Orchestra's concert in Wagner's hometown 
alongside the annual Bayreuth opera festival  … (marked) the first time 
an Israeli orchestra has played Wagner in Germany, …

	“The concert  (began) with Israel's national anthem, "Hatikva," and 
also feature(d) music by composers banned by the Third Reich, including 
Gustav Mahler and Felix Mendelssohn..

	“‘This is not just another concert. It is a once-in a lifetime concert, 
a victory concert,’ he said. ‘Because of the things that Wagner wrote, 
to come here, a group of Jewish musicians from the state of the Jews ... 
it is the best response and proof that they did not succeed and will not 
succeed.’” 4

	Where does this hit us this morning? What riled us up when we read “The 
Democrat Herald” or watched the TV news? What’s bothering us in our 
relationships with others?  Is any of this relevant to what goes on in 
this building, or this Diocese, and so on?

	The penny finally dropped for Joseph. Through all his struggles he’d 
come to discover how God had never left him, had forgiven him and how 
incredibly much God loved him. It was out of this  that he was able to 
caress the necks of his brothers, send for his father, and bring them 
all back together – without the brothers or father even saying they were 
sorry.

	Now THAT’S forgiveness. And it’s INCREDIBLY painful, TERRIBLY 
difficult. But it’s what we’re called to do, so, as the dismissal 
charges us, after we receive the sign of forgiveness and accepting Love, 
which is the Bread and Wine, we MUST go to love and serve God – and 
forgive, and forgive, and forgive.

	And here we thought it would be easy to leave here today!

NOTES:
1 	Executive Council 15 – 17 June, 2011, Maritime Institute, Baltimore.

2	Desmond Tutu in “The Sunflower: On the Possibilities and Limits of 
Forgiveness” by Simon Wiesenthal. Schocken Books Inc., New York. © 1998, 
pages 266-8.

3	L. Zoe Cole, Colorado   lzoecole at gmail.com

4	“Israeli orchestra to play Wagner in Germany” By JUERGEN BAETZ 
Associated Press The Associated Press Monday, July 25, 2011 10:03 AM EDT 
http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory?id=14150060

Robert P Morrison
Interim Vicar
The Episcopal Church of St Alban
PO Box 1556
Albany OR  97321   541-921-1076 (cell)