Home of Parrish W. Jones

God Wants Us to be Better

by Parrish W. Jones, Ph.D.

©2005 All rights reserved.

 

 

Psalm 114

Exodus 14:19-15:21

Matthew 18:21-35

 

In the movie Junebug , Ashley, a sort of ditzy very pregnant blonde from North Carolina, journeys a somewhat long-suffering road with her distant and under-motivated husband. As a viewer, one is delighted when she finally quits just taking it and says to him, "Johnny, God loves you just like you are, but wants you to be better."

It seems to me that the story of Exodus tells that story about the people of Israel. God loves them as they are but wants them to be better. Indeed, I think that is the story of salvation. God loves us but wants us to be better.

The people of Israel seem to stand on the brink. I'm not sure we can in simple words characterize the terror of the moment we read about this morning. With their backs to the wall and Pharoah's army bearing down on them, we see Israel in a state of fright and utter turmoil with no Department of Homeland Security and no Department of Defense. They quickly disintegrate into despair and hopelessness. So they cry out.

We have seen them do this before. Their cries emanated from the core of their fear, anxiety and despair in the face of the glory of the empire. They had spent a day in lament as they prepared for the Passover, an ominous enough event. Now they faced what appeared to be certain death. What was the purpose of this?

That is a question that comes to mind quite often for us. It was a question on our minds that fearful, anxious, traumatic day four years ago. It was certainly on the minds of those who watched as flood waters rose in their homes and threatened to destroy not only all they had but their very lives. 911 operators in Biloxi tell of traumatic calls for help from elderly, mom's and dad's, even children begging for help—help they could not send. Needless to say that is the gripping terror also experienced by the people of Israel.

We began our service with songs and prayerful litany to remember and lament. There is a reason for that. The scriptures show us that there is little real joy unless we lament the tragedy of life. In a culture that teaches us to just buck up; in professions like those in which many of you serve that tells you to cover it up and get on with it, we find this a peculiar teaching.

Sadly, our focus on psychoanalysis, and I do not mean this as a blanket condemnation of such, we have substituted self-indulgence for lament. Lament you see is focused complaint, grief, despair, sorrow, and penance that knows from beginning to end that God has saved and redeemed and God will do so in this situation. Lament is founded on absolute dependence on God.

It was not until the people of Israel had submitted themselves completely to God's redemption that joy came to them and they were able to celebrate. That is to say they became better by being faith-full to God.

I don't know about you, but there are certain parts of me that have problems with that. I want to believe that I am good enough, far better than most, so why should I become better. Yet, the fact that a part of me thinks that is the very sign that I need to surrender myself to God's transforming power. I need to lament this arrogance of mine.

Which is where our gospel comes in. Peter, this paragon of faith, asks Jesus, "How many times must I forgive a brother or sister—seven times?" Jesus response is fully unexpected because the answer Peter gave was the Rabbinic answer. Jesus says, "No, you must forgive 70 times 7." That is to say just as God has heaped grace upon grace, we are to do likewise.

There is no implication here that Jesus supposes this is an easy thing for humans. He had told them they had to take up their cross to follow him. Crosses are not comfortable things to carry. They chaff the shoulder and break the back. Consistent faithfulness is a matter of conformity not to the conventions of the world but to the direction and example of Jesus who forgives without counting our sins.

It still does not make it easy. Just after September 11, 2001, a church member called me late on Saturday night to make sure that I would not counsel forgiveness of the hijackers. The conversation was quite short and anxious mostly on her part. I had not intended on doing any sort of thing. I had not worked out what that even meant. It didn't occur to me that we could forgive. I sincerely believed, as did most, that the others involved in the attacks needed to be apprehended and brought to justice. I did not agree that they should be hunted down and brought in dead or alive, which to many simply meant dead.

But what do you do when the culprit is not human such as in the case of tsunamis, hurricanes, and earthquakes? Despite that those living in the U.S. are overwhelmingly Christian, Jew and Islam, we have not learned much from scripture about how to deal with such events. Nor have we struggled mightily with becoming truly gracious as God is gracious.

I do know one example where that kind of struggle took place and that was in South Africa. In their struggle to move South Africa from the terror of Apartheid to a peaceful democratic society, Alan Boesack, Desmond Tutu, Nelson Mandela and thousands others struggled with how to deal with the horror of human rights abuses, assassinations, massacres, rapes, and brutality that characterized the 50 years of Apartheid. Having avoided a bloody Civil War through the boycotts launched by the churches and thousands of synagogues in Europe and the U.S. that led to the downfall of the government, they decided to form a Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The commission was written into the constitution and would hold hearings. Anyone who came and testified and told the truth about and lament what they had done could receive forgiveness and go on with life as they could. Anyone who did not and evidence was gathered regarding their crimes would be prosecuted.

The truth tellers did not get off Scott free. Telling the truth is often a devastating experience when one goes home to face family who wonder who this person is whom they believed to have been a loving parent, spouse, neighbor, child and Christian. How do you face family that has become horrified over this beast they now know you to be. Serving time in jail may have been easier for some.

Desmond Tutu tells this story in his book No Future without Forgiveness . Forgiveness was never easy for any of them as it is never easy for us. He tells of the time a woman approached him after one of the hearings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. She lamented to him, "Bishop Tutu, I want so much to forgive the men who tortured and killed my family and raped me, but how can I forgive if I do not know whom to forgive." It is to her credit, of course, that she hoped to forgive. Most of us have difficulty getting to that point for rather minor conflict. How do we get there on the big questions and larger infractions?

The answer lies in the scriptures. Our culture teaches us to trust human systems in times of tragedy, but scripture teaches us to trust God. The Israelites were ready to take one of the animal responses to danger. They were ready to surrender. God provided salvation. Peter liked sevenfold forgiveness. Jesus taught that we should heap grace upon grace. Jesus loves us as we are but wants us to be better.

We can be thankful that so far the people of this nation and the world community have been so generous in giving to the victims of the hurricane. The question scripture calls us to is what more can we do? How much more generous can we be? God loves us as we are, but wants us to be better.