Healing Hostility
Matthew 18:21-35[1]
It seems that everywhere you look
these days you can find hostility. Some of it is very open, even “in your
face.” Some of it is more subtle but no less real. It’s not hard to find
someone who’s angry about something. And the sad truth is that the hostility is
within us as well. All of us have people in our world who “push our buttons.”
Sometimes we “go off” in the privacy of our homes, talking to the TV. Or
listening to the radio in the car. I think that’s a truth we’d rather not have
to face: that we may be part of the problem, not part of the solution. When
hostility seems so prevalent, what can one person do?
I’ve seen one man stop a whole
line of tanks simply by standing in their way. I’ve seen public officials
kneeling in front of angry protesters in a move that seemed to diffuse the
tension instantly, at least for the moment. Perhaps the ancient wisdom that “a
gentle answer deflects anger” (Prov 15:1, NLT) still holds true. Sometimes, at
least. There are times when it seems like hostility and the violence it breeds
is like a flood that nothing can stop. But there are times when simple, honest,
friendliness can win over even the most stubborn enemy.
In order to be able to take that
kind of friendly approach even toward those who are openly hostile to us, we
have to find a way to heal the hostility in our own hearts first. I think
that’s where our Gospel lesson for today comes in. Jesus teaches Peter to go
beyond forgiveness that only goes so far. Rather, Jesus says to practice
unlimited forgiveness.[2] That’s quite a tall order for most of us. There are some people who have done
us wrong in such a hurtful way that we simply find it impossible to let go our
hard feelings. And yet, Jesus doesn’t let us off the hook—he makes it clear
that those of us who look to God for unlimited forgiveness must put it into
practice in our lives as well.
And to reinforce the point, Jesus
tells a parable. A king demands of his servant the settlement of an
unimaginable fortune—10,000 “talents,” which would have been several billion
dollars in our world. When the servant begs for more time to pay, the king
relents and forgives the entire debt. That’s hard for me to fathom! Who
forgives that kind of debt? And yet, as the story goes on, the first servant
goes out and demands settlement of a much smaller debt: about $10,000. When the
second debtor begs for more time, using the exact same words he used, he
refuses to even grant him more time to pay. When the King hears about it, he
brings the first servant back in and states the obvious: “Should you not have
had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?” (Matt. 18:33). And the
point of the story is that we who have known God’s unlimited forgiveness are to
extend that to others “from the heart” (Matt. 18:35).
Unfortunately, Jesus doesn’t teach
us how to do this. It’s much easier said than done, I find. I’ve learned that I
have to get to the place where I can truly understand and even empathize with someone
who I feel has done me wrong in order to offer them this kind of unconditional
forgiveness. That doesn’t always come easily. In fact, sometimes I have to have
an experience where I wind up being in their shoes myself to be able to reach
that level of awareness and empathy. Sometimes it has taken me years.
Sometimes, it has taken me decades.
There’s a film called The
Interpreter that I think illustrates the choice we face. The film is about
an interpreter at the United Nations named Sylvia. She tells the story of a rite
of forgiveness in Africa called the “Drowning Man Trial.” When someone is
murdered, after a year of mourning, the killer is tied up and thrown into a
river to drown. The family of the victim then have to choose—if they let the
killer drown, they will have justice, but they will spend the rest of their
lives grieving. If they save the killer from drowning, their act of saving a
life can heal their own grief. I wonder what I would do if faced with that
choice!
Whether there is or ever was such
a thing as a “drowning man trial,” I think it serves at least like a parable
for us: do we forgive as we have been forgiven, and in so doing find healing
for ourselves? Or do we nurse our hurt feelings, our hostility, and our anger,
and so find ourselves trapped in bitterness? I think most of us would agree
that it’s better to come to the place where we can acknowledge that we share a
common humanity with those who have done us harm. When we forgive them, we not
only take a step towards healing the hostility we may feel. More than that, by
changing our own hearts, we put a little more kindness, a little more
friendliness, a little more understanding out into the world. And I do believe
that the more we do that, the more we can heal the hostility that plagues us
all.
[1] © 2020 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Alan
Brehm, Ph. D. on 9/13/2020 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman NE.
[2] Cf. M.
Eugene Boring, “The Gospel According to Matthew,” New Interpreters Bible 8: 380, where he observes, “Whoever counts
has not forgiven at all, but is only biding his or her time (1 Cor 13:5). The
kind of forgiveness called for is beyond all calculation.”
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