Fifth Sunday in Lent

Jeremiah 31:31-34
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31The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. 32It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt—a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the LORD. 33But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. 34No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, “Know the LORD,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the LORD; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.

John 12:20-36a
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20Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. 21They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” 22Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. 23Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. 25Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.

27“Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. 28Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” 29The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” 30Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. 31Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. 32And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” 33He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die. 34The crowd answered him, “We have heard from the law that the Messiah remains forever. How can you say that the Son of Man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of Man?” 35Jesus said to them, “The light is with you for a little longer. Walk while you have the light, so that the darkness may not overtake you. If you walk in the darkness, you do not know where you are going. 36While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.”

Seeing Jesus

For the last few weeks a group has been reading and discussing the book, “Amish Grace.” The authors consider the nature of Amish forgiveness in light of the tragedy of October 2, 2006. On a Monday morning down in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, a non-Amish man, who lived in the area and had regular business dealings with the Amish, walked into a one-room schoolhouse carrying several guns. He sent all of the boys out of the building along with the adults. After nailing shut the doors and lining up the ten girls along one wall, he shot all of them. Five died. The gunman then took his own life as police were breaking into the schoolhouse.

What surprised the world was hearing that the Amish had gone to visit the family of the gunman that evening to tell them they forgave the shooter and to offer grace to his family. The Amish realized that the killer’s widow and children were victims, too. A few days later about forty Amish attended the funeral of the gunman. The Amish continued to keep contact with the gunman’s family, helping his widow with their presence, with food and with money. While there were skeptics and critics, most found the response of the Amish to be amazing and profoundly moving.

Reading this book seems especially relevant in light of recent events. I’m thinking about Staff Sgt. Robert Bales, the American soldier charged with killing 17 Afghan citizens including women and children. I’m thinking about George Zimmerman, the Sanford, Florida man who killed teenager, Trayvon Martin. And I’m thinking of Steven Eldridge, the Penn Yan man who killed 6 Amish in a horrible car accident while under the influence of drugs.

In the case of Steven Eldridge, the Amish have been in communication with him while he has been in jail and they've offered him compassion and solace. But the word heard most frequently in these cases and others is “justice.” And when people speak of “justice,” usually they mean punishment or retribution. The victim or her family has suffered and now someone has to pay for it. Regarding the case in Florida, I’ve even heard someone quote the Old Testament law called “lex talionis” – an eye for an eye. There hasn’t been much talk about forgiveness. That’s not surprising in our world today. The primary message is about judgment and justice. The way to eliminate threats from enemies is to eliminate them violently or make them suffer. Consider any recent movies or video games and the main character that has been wronged finds redemption through violence. I’m not sure many of us can think of alternatives.

We are nearing the end of the Lenten season – Palm Sunday is next Sunday and Easter the Sunday after. During this season we customarily reflect upon the meaning of Christ’s death on the cross for the world, for us. This week’s text from John’s gospel is rich with images and descriptions. A group of Greeks have asked to see Jesus. By the way, that’s probably code for wanting to come to believe. When the request finally reaches Jesus through the disciples, he responds with a lesson that’s directed not just to the Greeks, but to all of us. The climax of his speech comes when Jesus says his crucifixion judges the world. And when Jesus talks about the world here, he is not referring to the world that God created and so loves; he is referring to human institutions and systems.

These systems determine Jesus is a threat and plan to kill him. But Jesus refuses to respond using the same violence as the system. During his trial before Pilate, Jesus responds to one question by saying, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over” (John 18:36). On the cross Jesus publicly and dramatically judges human institutions and systems by exposing them for what they really are – opponents of God’s purposes; not a way of life, but a way of death. And by exposing them, Jesus takes away their power. This frees us to live fully and freely in the way of Jesus Christ (Charles Campbell – Feasting on the Word – year B, vol. 2).

For the Amish, forgiveness is practiced regularly because it is a part of their culture, part of their understanding of scripture, part of their faith, part of their spirituality. At the core of their faith is following Jesus, and following Jesus means letting go, “uffgevva” in Pennsylvania German, and trusting God in all things.

If you have a chance to read the book, you will discover it’s not easy for the Amish. One of the fathers shared how his son’s nightmare months later about an armed man breaking into their house made him angry. And he realized he had to forgive the shooter all over again. Anger is like an addiction; one has to work at forgiving again and again – days, weeks, months, even years later. The Amish would be the first to admit how often they fail.

It’s important for us to know that forgiveness is not forgetting. Forgiveness does not mean there are no consequences for actions. Forgiveness is not pardon or reconciliation. But forgiveness is freedom: it is about not letting the offender become one’s master. Forgiveness is choosing to overcome our resentment toward the offender, not by denying our right to the resentment, but by trying to offer the wrongdoer compassion, benevolence, and love. Forgiveness is to take the offense seriously, to recognize one’s “moral right to anger,” but to “give up” one’s right to anger and resentment, to “give up” holding a grudge. And it is unconditional. In our discussions about the book, we are finding forgiveness does not require regret on the part of the offender, does not require an apology, does not require that the perpetrator even acknowledge us. No- forgiveness is about, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, our letting go. And that means freedom.

For Christians, forgiveness is possible because of Christ’s death on the cross – a sign of God’s new unconditional covenant with us. For freedom Christ has set us free. Choosing to forgive is one way to “hate (or turn away from) our life in this world” and refuse to give in to institutions and systems. It’s choosing a way that brings life and bears fruit.

A few years ago a movie came out that is set in a small village in France during the Lenten season. The village is ruled by a mayor, descended from a long line of mayors, who considers that his role is to maintain order and tranquility in their peaceful village. This includes “mentoring” the young priest assigned to the church, and making sure the townspeople are living proper, Godly lives. The mayor, of course, is the model Christian citizen, refusing even to drink tea during Lent, but only hot water with a very thin slice of lemon.

Into this seemingly ordered world a single woman with a child comes and opens of all things a chocolate shop. It is bad enough she is selling something that people are supposed to give up during Lent. But her shop becomes a safe haven for all those whose lives are not neat and orderly, who don’t fit in, who feel stifled. The mayor, sensing in the chocolate shop owner a threat to the tranquility of the village, works secretly to undermine her business and her reputation among the villagers. Isn’t that what institutions and systems do? For the mayor it’s all about rules and order; nothing else matters.

The mayor tries a number of tactics to drive the chocolate shop owner out of the town, and each time they are thwarted by one of her allies in the town. Finally, during holy week, the mayor breaks into the chocolate shop in the middle of the night and begins destroying a beautiful display the owner created using her secret recipe chocolate. Chocolate is flying everywhere, and one small sliver lands on the mayor’s lower lip which he is instinctively licks. Then it’s all over for him.

He is driven now by an insatiable urge to eat her chocolate. After consuming huge amounts of it he collapses and falls asleep fully visible amongst the now half-eaten display in the front window of the store. Just as the sun begins to rise, the priest walks by the window and sees the mayor fast asleep. Together, he and the shop owner whom he has awoken, quietly and privately care for the mayor. They quickly move him out of the display window, so he will not be seen by the other villagers. The incident is never mentioned again or used against him, and the mayor in gratitude for her discretion gains a new respect for the shop owner who has shown him a loving heart. Of course in the movies everything wraps up neatly and love conquers all. But we all know real life is rather messy.

I don’t know how the cases of the soldier and the Florida man will turn out, but I pray forgiveness will work its way into each situation. Christ’s life and death on the cross show us a better way, a nonviolent way. Probably only God can truly remember our sin no more. But perhaps our forgiving is a way of witnessing to the love of God – a love that lifted up Christ from the cross. And through our lives as children of light, God can help others who wish to see Jesus.