Lead, Kindly Light

The sermon from this last Sunday was about the parable of the prodigal son. In the way of framing, Assistant Pastor talked about the man who killed five Amish schoolchildren a couple years ago – he pointed out that the Amish response to the killing was a portrayal of forgiveness as it ought to be: it was immediate and total.

The gunman committed suicide after the shooting, and members of the Amish community reached out to his wife and children to communicate their forgiveness of the gunman, and to express their sympathy for their loss of a husband and father. According to this story from Fox news, the wife responded to the outreach thus, “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 our world, and for this we sincerely thank you.”

In the same way, the father in the parable issued immediate and total forgiveness to his wayward son. First, he extended mercy when his younger son first approached him and demanded his inheritance–which in Jesus’s day and historical context would have been the equivalent of a son telling his father, “I wish you were dead.”

That type of demand would have spelled shame for the father, and even greater shame for the son, as the traditional response would have been for the father to disown the son–perhaps even holding a funeral to mourn the son that was now, for all intents and purposes, dead.

Then, when the son returned after squandering the third of father’s wealth that had been given to him, the father covered the son’s shame. As the son made his way home, doubtless the people in his village would have seen him in his miserably disgusting state (by the end, he had been feeding pigs), and recognizing him as that shameful son, they would have hurled insults him as he passed them along the way. The father ran to him and covered him with an embrace, and kissed him – and immediately reinstated his son back into the family, even placing a signet ring on his son’s finger. Immediate and total forgiveness.

So should our forgiveness be. Immediate and total. This was such a convicting sermon, as I have just been realizing in the last few months that one of my flaws is that I’m passive-aggressive to those who are closest to me. Often when I am offended or upset by someone, I silently seethe and gripe inside. If I don’t let it go, I just get all self-righteous and indignant about things, and any forgiveness, if any, is partial and very delayed. No good.

Forgiveness is about letting go of our rights to be angry, our rights to be right, our rights to be treated in a certain way. And immediate forgiveness is about learning to do those things right away–not after we’ve nursed our pride-filled wounds after a time. This is a very very difficult thing to do. And particularly difficult for me, I’m just now realizing.

Assistant Pastor brought up another verse – Luke 12:48 – “And to whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required: and to whom they commit much, of him will they ask the more.” Pastor Josh said he had always thought of this verse in terms of material wealth (also my general understanding) – we often hear this verse preached on in terms of stewardship of financial resources or time.

But…what about in terms of mercy? He raised a very good point – that all of us are benefactors of an incredible, incredible grace. Could we interpret the verse as – “And to whomsoever much mercy is given, of him shall much mercy be required”? Jesus paid for the enormously and unbelievably and unimaginably gigantic mountain of my sins, past present and future. That’s a heck of a lot of mercy. So from me, much mercy is also required.

Convicting, right? I’m still reeling from this realization. **still munching on this food for thought**