~ Practicing Forgiveness in the Family
A woman had a startling size of family with fourteen children in the household, ranging from ages one to fourteen. She sued her husband for divorce on the grounds of desertion. The skeptical judge asked her, “When did he desert you?” She replied, “Thirteen years ago.” The frustrated judge responded, “If he left you thirteen years ago, where did all these children come from?” She answered, “Oh, he kept coming back to say he was sorry.”1
Practicing forgiveness effectively and authentically is difficult these days, especially in the family. The small matter of an unkind word spoken or an insensitive forgetfulness can be easily mended by an apology, followed by a healing embrace. But what is the role of forgiveness when that callous word is a subtle suggestion of a deeper infidelity? How can one offer forgiveness and earnestly seek reconciliation when one’s heart has been cruelly carved out and viciously stomped upon through some horrendous act of unfaithfulness, making a mockery of the marriage covenant?
On this Father’s Day we face the sobering reminder that our households are fractured by unforgiving attitudes and irresponsible behavior. Fifty percent of all children living in North Carolina will live in a single-parent home sometime before age 18, according to the Governor’s Commission on Responsible Fatherhood. A heavy price is paid of these unreconciled relationships. Eighty-five percent of the children who exhibit behavioral problems are from fatherless homes. Ninety percent of all runaway children are from fatherless homes.2
But what constitutes authentic forgiveness? Is forgiveness too high a price to pay for keeping the family together? What is the message of the church amidst a culture that harbors hurts, encourages alienation, is entertained by domestic courtroom controversy, and thrives upon stories of vindictive retaliation?
Forgiveness is a haunting issue among many families within the church. Disputed property issues divide brothers and sisters. Acts of greed foster alienation. A legal settlement results in a hostile resolution. Family unity is destroyed. Years of silence merely amplify the heat of hostility. Yet, we do not talk about such things in the life of the church. We act as if Jesus our Lord approves of such behavior perpetrated by his followers. We say that we believe in forgiveness of sin. We even pray a general prayer of confession every Sunday. But we avoid the suggestion that our doctrine of forgiveness be applied to the particulars of our own family life.
Greg Jones, Dean of Duke Divinity who spoke from this pulpit just over a year ago, reminds us that, “God’s forgiveness in Christ is universal in scope, but it cannot be general or abstract. It needs to be made particular….”3
A particular woman entered the Galilean home of Simon the Pharisee during a time in which he was honoring Jesus. All four of the gospels tell a version of this story. Well-meaning interpreters, who have tried to synthesize these four accounts, have done an injustice to the unique theology of the four separate evangelists. Luke gives no name to this woman. She is merely identified as a sinner, in contrast with the men who filled the room, regarding themselves to be righteous. Jesus’ compassionate response to this woman threatened the men’s pre-conceived notions of God’s attitude toward a sinner—especially a woman with a bad reputation.
The woman began bathing the feet of Jesus with her tears and drying them with her hair. This description by Luke is more than a metaphor. Many impoverished peasant women carried with them their most precious possession: their tear vase. When in grief, anguish, or sorrow, they collected their tears in this vase, drop by drop. If a woman carried a large tear vase, brimming over with a collection of substantiated grief, one could be certain that she had suffered much. She had endured much emotional strain. Moreover, she was regarded to be a sincere person in her grief, contrition, or confession. This woman of Galilee had collected enough of her own tears to wash the feet of Jesus. Moreover, she expended her second most valuable possession: precious ointment. In Mark’s gospel, the theological import of the story is to suggest that the woman was preparing the body of Jesus for death. But here in Luke’s account, the woman merely honors her Master through this radical expression of gratitude.
Her remarkable act of contrition and love prompted Jesus to tell a parable about a creditor forgiving the debt of two debtors. One debtor owed five hundred denarii. Fitzmyer, that exacting authority on Luke’s gospel, suggests that this was an amount equivalent to five hundred days of labor (that is, a year and two months worth of work). 4 The other was forgiven his debt for only fifty pieces of silver. So, Jesus asked, “Now which of them loved [the creditor] more?”5 Reluctantly, Simon gave the obvious answer. Thus, Jesus cited the fact that this woman acted much like a person who has just been forgiven a huge debt. Her gratitude resulted in her anointing his feet and kissing him. Then Jesus turned to the sinful woman and calmly said to her, “Your sins are forgiven…. Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”6
The church, in faithfulness to the Messiah, is in the business of forgiving sin. We must begin within our own households, among the people whom we know most intimately.
Our friend Greg Jones, in faithfulness to his Wesleyan heritage, writes about the judgment of grace. The grace, which the church offers, is never cheap. It involves the recovery of memory. We dare not forget the way we have offended another person nor shall we forget the times we have been hurt by someone close to us. The judgment of grace involves holding the offender accountable for one’s behavior and the results of one’s offenses.
Only forgiveness can break the vicious cycles of hurt, retaliation, and more hurt within our families. When we who are followers of Christ come to the table of communion, we are reminded of our relationship with Christ. He comes to us much as he came to the home of Simon the Pharisee. Christ wants to heal the brokenness within our families. But our past will never be healed if we see ourselves only as a victim or as a victimizer. We must come to the table of our Lord as a sinner redeemed, a lost sheep found, and a forgiven person forgiving others. Only this redemptive procedure can break the cycles of hurt, vengeance, and harbored hatreds.
For years I used to visit a local prison. Among those to whom I ministered was a man who had fired a pistol at his wife and killed her when he was in a drunken rage. Over and over he would look into the blue eyes of his adorable young daughter and repeat these words through his tears, “I am sorry for taking the life of your mother.”
When I was pastor in Haywood County, I served for years as board chairman of a private agency, which responded to issues of domestic violence. The churches of the county purchased a shelter. We presented programs of education in the schools and community centers. We provided group counsel for victims and for abusers. There is not authentic forgiveness and reconciliation until there is accountability through acts of retribution.
The other night ago I watched three minutes of arguably the worst movie produced in Hollywood in the past thirty-five years—Love Story. This sentimental tear-jerker makes victimization into an art form and concludes with the most ridiculous line ever spoken on film: “Love means never having to say ‘I’m sorry.’”
Love not only means having to say “I’m sorry,” but love also evokes within us a quality of contrition by which the one whom we have hurt truly knows that we are grateful for his or her forgiving grace. Such costly, contrite love is the only source of redemption for a world caught in the vicious cycles of guilt, grief, and retaliation.
The woman of Galilee washed Jesus’ feet with her tears. Gratitude for grace causes us to say and do some crazy things like that. Crazy things: like coming to church and kneeling here at the altar. Unnatural things: like demonstrating gratitude through humble service or forgiving those in our family who have harmed us, even as we have been forgiven by the One whose feet were washed by tears. .
Footnotes:
1. Lowell D. Streiker, An Encyclopedia of Humor (Peabody, Massachusetts: Hendrickson Publishers, Inc., 1998), p. 130. )
2. Figures cited here are from the Governor’s Commission on Responsible Fatherhood.
3. L. Gregory Jones, Embodying Forgiveness: A Theological Analysis (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1995), p. 135.
4. Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke, Chapters I-IX: A Translation with Introduction and Commentary (The Anchor Bible Series, Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1979), p. 683-694.
5. Luke 7:42
6. Luke 7:48 & 50 NRSV