The Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
The gospel reading for this Sunday opens with this sharp exchange:
Peter: “How Often Must I Forgive? Seven times?”
Jesus: “Not seven times. Rather, seventy-seven times.”
If you read the first chapter of my new book, Preacher in a Hard Hat (go to Blue Collar Preacher Home Page, then to BOOKS), you’ll know about my “take your pastor to work” initiative…and how weekly visits to certain job sites provide the input for this blog.
[Note: A first draft of my homily for this Sunday appears at the conclusion of this article; your constructive criticism is requested.]
FORGIVENESS "AT WORK"
So, what sort of work requires a high level of skill in the Forgiveness Department?
I was unable to visit an actual worksite this past week, but I had an amazing discussion with a young woman employed by Children’s Protective Services.
I’ll call her Bonnie. She works in a rural, Midwestern county. Her job requires her to practice forgiveness at least 77 times a day, occasionally 77 times an hour. Here’s her story:
“The little guy compliments himself now. It’s so cute. He’s only three and he’s learned to mimic the positive reinforcement of his foster home: ‘Good job, Justin!’ he’ll say after cleaning his plate. By the way, that’s not his real name.”
“That’s unusual…?” I ask, “for a child to give himself that kind of validation?”
“When the agency acquired custody of Justin, all he could so was scream. He’d holler things like, ‘I’m thirsty!’ or ‘Hold me!’ Evidently, he had to yell to get any attention.”
Bonnie goes on to tell of the emaciated state of his younger sisters.
“Their eyes were sunken; their arms and legs so thin.” Bonnie sighs and diverts her eyes. “But now they smile and reach for you! In fact, they’ve each gained five pounds in four weeks.” She pauses and looks at me. “I’ll never understand how parents can ignore their own children.”
Bonnie’s work does not involve the act of forgiveness per se, after all, she is not the victim in these situations. But it does involve a continuing effort to distance herself from intense emotions surrounding the tragedy of child abuse. So, the conversation turns philosophical. We discuss various factors—social, physical and psychological—that contribute to child abuse and neglect. She says that, sometimes, knowledge of a medical condition or previous abuse suffered by the perpetrators themselves helps her maintain a professional focus as she goes about her job of helping dysfunctional families address their problems.
“When you see bruises all over a battered child, it’s hard to forgive.”
Bonnie is under 30 and single. She has no children.
“How do you keep perspective?”
“It’s hard,” she says. “I’ve done this work for nearly eight years and sometimes I’m still shocked at what I see.”
“So, how do you steel yourself?”
She crosses her arms. “I don’t know. It’s a tension you carry inside you.”
“Give me an example.”
“Well, some time ago,” a frown darkens her face, “I was called to a house where a three-year-old boy was beaten so badly by his teenage brother that his face was swollen beyond recognition. Bruises covered 80% of his body. The older brother had hurled him into a chair with such force that the chair broke.”
Bonnie looks at me. “Guess who was assigned to work with the perpetrator?”
“You?”
She nods. “I remember driving to the retention facility telling myself the usual things, you know, ‘He has issues. He might have a mental condition. Keep your emotions under control. Focus on the tasks at hand. And don’t—don’t—think of how his little brother looked after the attack.’”
“You got through the interview?”
“He’s a human being.” She shrugs. “And besides, I got a code of ethics to follow. The code reminds me that everyone has the right to self-determination. In other words, it’s up to that teenager to decide how his life is going to unfold from this point. He’s facing serious consequences. I’m there to present options to help him come to terms with what he’s done. I’ll do my part, the rest is up to him.”
There’s a long silence and I realize that I am in the presence of an amazing individual, a woman whose work requires a resolve to suspend judgment…a resolve so intense that few of us would be able to sustain the effort.
HOMILETIC REFLECTION
There are a lot of misconceptions about forgiveness. First of all, true forgiveness does not deny the seriousness of the offence, nor does it let offenders off the hook. Second, forgiveness does not require reconciliation with the offender (it’s not always possible or desirable). Third, does forgiveness does not require that offences be “forgotten” (given the way our brain works, that’s physiologically impossible!).
But the worst misconception about forgiveness, in my opinion, is that it is simply a freeing, glorious, instantaneous surge of emotion: “Just forgive!” “Just let it go!” “Just move on!”
Easier said than done. Forgiveness is not a one-time thing, it is a continual act of the will.
The hard effort required in Bonnie’s line of work—the effort to rise above emotions in order to accomplish an important goal—shines light on the “77 times” aspect of forgiveness. In other words, it’s hard, hard work!
HOMILY FOR THE TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
(This is a preliminary draft…your constructive criticism is requested)
As many of you here know, I don’t own a TV.
And, sometimes, I catch myself crowing about that.
Especially to the kids over at the grade school.
For most of them,
the thought of someone living without a TV
places you on a very elevated plane…
somewhere between miracle-worker and martyr.
The looks you get nothing short of jaw-dropping:
“You mean you really don’t have a TV?”
Sometimes parents are equally incredulous.
Of course, what I fail to mention to those parents
is that it’s very easy to get along without a TV
when you don’t have kids in the house…
and it’s also very easy to live without TV
if your work finds you in the office or at a meeting
every night of the week.
So, why would I have a TV
when my free time occurs in the middle of the afternoon?
Do I miss having a TV? Not in the least.
But occasionally I read about a program that makes me wish I did.
Last year, ABC had a surprisingly successful program called “Lost.”
It’s a survival story in which four dozen people
from different walks of life
are thrown together on a deserted island following a plane crash.
At first, according to the review I read,
the regular roster of disaster film characters
(you know, the tense doctor, the pouty rich girl,
the bad Southern boy, the rock star with a drug problem,
the young mother with a baby, a spiritual African-American woman,
a father and son who can’t get along…)
all these stereotypes appear…at first…quite superficial.
But at the series progressed,
the viewers learned, through flashbacks,
about significant moments in the characters’ lives.
And slowly, the shallow stereotypes turned into
compelling, three-dimensional individuals.
The heroine, Kate, is actually a fugitive from the law.
John, the take-charge hunter, was, in real-life,
a low assistant manager at a box company.
The show, “Lost,” continually surprises the viewers
with intriguing information,
making it clear that no person is a simple as they initially appear.
Each one of the characters carry a unique set of burdens and regrets,
or to use the Bible’s language: a unique history of sin and shame:
loved ones betrayed,
harm caused to strangers as well as friends,
personal compromises and self-degradation.
The review I read about this program appeared in America Magazine,*
the Jesuit news weekly.
And the question the author raised is the same question posed
by today’s gospel:
How many times is forgiveness necessary?
How often must I forgive my brother or sister?
How often must I forgive myself?
According to Jesus, once is not enough.
Twice isn’t sufficient.
Three times isn’t the charm.
If you’re lucky, 77 times might do the trick.
Why do you suppose he says that?
Might it be for the simple reason
that real forgiveness doesn’t come overnight?
* * *
Let’s switch from TV show to real life.
This past weak I was talking to a young woman
who is employed by Children Protective Services
in a rural county here in the Midwest.
(If any of you think that life is sweeter in the country
and that families are strong and loving
and child abuse is problem confined mainly to the city,
she’ll set you straight.)
Bonnie is a social worker.
Her job doesn’t require her to “forgive”
but it does require her to exercise skills
that are somewhat similar to forgiveness.
Sometimes she is called to homes
where children have been neglected
or have been physically and brutally abused.
Then, a few days later, she must work with the perpetrators;
helping them come to terms with what they have done
and helping the court assess appropriate options
between foster homes, time in jail, family counseling or a combination of all three.
It is very difficult work
and when I asked Bonnie
how she manages to keep her emotions under wrap,
she said that the training she received
helps her maintain some level of perspective but, she added,
there is a tension that you carry within you.
I found her use of the word “tension” very revealing.
In other words,
when faced with situations where your heart is in agony
and every fiber of your being wants to scream out at the sharp realization
of pain, hurt, destruction and injustice…
prudence requires a suspension of judgment
and a willingness to allow time to take its course.
That’s tension…that’s an incredible amount of tension
to have to hold inside yourself.
And if the harm has been done to someone you love,
you’re doing well if you simply manage to refrain from seeking vengeance…
At that point, the notion of forgiveness is so far down the road
and you can’t even begin to think about it.
I bring this up because I think it is important
to give this passage…this difficult passage…a true hearing.
When Jesus says,
“You must forgive from the heart,”
he’s not suggesting that it’s easy or that it’s something that happens overnight.
“77 times” would seem to indicate that forgiveness requires
extensive therapy…and lots of time.
We know how long it takes for a broken bone to heal.
And we don’t expect someone on crutches
to jump back into the game.
Likewise, when your soul is injured, it does no good to pretend
that the pain doesn’t exist or that nothing traumatic has happened.
When someone ruins your reputation
When your spouse has betrayed you
When a daughter refuses to call you
Or a son refuses to respect you…
the hurt reaches to the heart
and there the work of forgiveness begins…slowly…like working a knee
after surgery for an injured ligament.
It takes time, lots of time, to work through the pain.
But, as with a jammed up knee,
if you want to ran again…
you’ll work through the pain…
It just might require 77 leg lifts a day…
but in the end, your heart will be healed and your spirit set free.
*"Fear and Trembling in Oceania: Pondering ABC's 'Lost'" by Jim McDermott, America, September 12, 2005, pp. 19-20.
Peter: “How Often Must I Forgive? Seven times?”
Jesus: “Not seven times. Rather, seventy-seven times.”
If you read the first chapter of my new book, Preacher in a Hard Hat (go to Blue Collar Preacher Home Page, then to BOOKS), you’ll know about my “take your pastor to work” initiative…and how weekly visits to certain job sites provide the input for this blog.
[Note: A first draft of my homily for this Sunday appears at the conclusion of this article; your constructive criticism is requested.]
FORGIVENESS "AT WORK"
So, what sort of work requires a high level of skill in the Forgiveness Department?
I was unable to visit an actual worksite this past week, but I had an amazing discussion with a young woman employed by Children’s Protective Services.
I’ll call her Bonnie. She works in a rural, Midwestern county. Her job requires her to practice forgiveness at least 77 times a day, occasionally 77 times an hour. Here’s her story:
“The little guy compliments himself now. It’s so cute. He’s only three and he’s learned to mimic the positive reinforcement of his foster home: ‘Good job, Justin!’ he’ll say after cleaning his plate. By the way, that’s not his real name.”
“That’s unusual…?” I ask, “for a child to give himself that kind of validation?”
“When the agency acquired custody of Justin, all he could so was scream. He’d holler things like, ‘I’m thirsty!’ or ‘Hold me!’ Evidently, he had to yell to get any attention.”
Bonnie goes on to tell of the emaciated state of his younger sisters.
“Their eyes were sunken; their arms and legs so thin.” Bonnie sighs and diverts her eyes. “But now they smile and reach for you! In fact, they’ve each gained five pounds in four weeks.” She pauses and looks at me. “I’ll never understand how parents can ignore their own children.”
Bonnie’s work does not involve the act of forgiveness per se, after all, she is not the victim in these situations. But it does involve a continuing effort to distance herself from intense emotions surrounding the tragedy of child abuse. So, the conversation turns philosophical. We discuss various factors—social, physical and psychological—that contribute to child abuse and neglect. She says that, sometimes, knowledge of a medical condition or previous abuse suffered by the perpetrators themselves helps her maintain a professional focus as she goes about her job of helping dysfunctional families address their problems.
“When you see bruises all over a battered child, it’s hard to forgive.”
Bonnie is under 30 and single. She has no children.
“How do you keep perspective?”
“It’s hard,” she says. “I’ve done this work for nearly eight years and sometimes I’m still shocked at what I see.”
“So, how do you steel yourself?”
She crosses her arms. “I don’t know. It’s a tension you carry inside you.”
“Give me an example.”
“Well, some time ago,” a frown darkens her face, “I was called to a house where a three-year-old boy was beaten so badly by his teenage brother that his face was swollen beyond recognition. Bruises covered 80% of his body. The older brother had hurled him into a chair with such force that the chair broke.”
Bonnie looks at me. “Guess who was assigned to work with the perpetrator?”
“You?”
She nods. “I remember driving to the retention facility telling myself the usual things, you know, ‘He has issues. He might have a mental condition. Keep your emotions under control. Focus on the tasks at hand. And don’t—don’t—think of how his little brother looked after the attack.’”
“You got through the interview?”
“He’s a human being.” She shrugs. “And besides, I got a code of ethics to follow. The code reminds me that everyone has the right to self-determination. In other words, it’s up to that teenager to decide how his life is going to unfold from this point. He’s facing serious consequences. I’m there to present options to help him come to terms with what he’s done. I’ll do my part, the rest is up to him.”
There’s a long silence and I realize that I am in the presence of an amazing individual, a woman whose work requires a resolve to suspend judgment…a resolve so intense that few of us would be able to sustain the effort.
HOMILETIC REFLECTION
There are a lot of misconceptions about forgiveness. First of all, true forgiveness does not deny the seriousness of the offence, nor does it let offenders off the hook. Second, forgiveness does not require reconciliation with the offender (it’s not always possible or desirable). Third, does forgiveness does not require that offences be “forgotten” (given the way our brain works, that’s physiologically impossible!).
But the worst misconception about forgiveness, in my opinion, is that it is simply a freeing, glorious, instantaneous surge of emotion: “Just forgive!” “Just let it go!” “Just move on!”
Easier said than done. Forgiveness is not a one-time thing, it is a continual act of the will.
The hard effort required in Bonnie’s line of work—the effort to rise above emotions in order to accomplish an important goal—shines light on the “77 times” aspect of forgiveness. In other words, it’s hard, hard work!
HOMILY FOR THE TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
(This is a preliminary draft…your constructive criticism is requested)
As many of you here know, I don’t own a TV.
And, sometimes, I catch myself crowing about that.
Especially to the kids over at the grade school.
For most of them,
the thought of someone living without a TV
places you on a very elevated plane…
somewhere between miracle-worker and martyr.
The looks you get nothing short of jaw-dropping:
“You mean you really don’t have a TV?”
Sometimes parents are equally incredulous.
Of course, what I fail to mention to those parents
is that it’s very easy to get along without a TV
when you don’t have kids in the house…
and it’s also very easy to live without TV
if your work finds you in the office or at a meeting
every night of the week.
So, why would I have a TV
when my free time occurs in the middle of the afternoon?
Do I miss having a TV? Not in the least.
But occasionally I read about a program that makes me wish I did.
Last year, ABC had a surprisingly successful program called “Lost.”
It’s a survival story in which four dozen people
from different walks of life
are thrown together on a deserted island following a plane crash.
At first, according to the review I read,
the regular roster of disaster film characters
(you know, the tense doctor, the pouty rich girl,
the bad Southern boy, the rock star with a drug problem,
the young mother with a baby, a spiritual African-American woman,
a father and son who can’t get along…)
all these stereotypes appear…at first…quite superficial.
But at the series progressed,
the viewers learned, through flashbacks,
about significant moments in the characters’ lives.
And slowly, the shallow stereotypes turned into
compelling, three-dimensional individuals.
The heroine, Kate, is actually a fugitive from the law.
John, the take-charge hunter, was, in real-life,
a low assistant manager at a box company.
The show, “Lost,” continually surprises the viewers
with intriguing information,
making it clear that no person is a simple as they initially appear.
Each one of the characters carry a unique set of burdens and regrets,
or to use the Bible’s language: a unique history of sin and shame:
loved ones betrayed,
harm caused to strangers as well as friends,
personal compromises and self-degradation.
The review I read about this program appeared in America Magazine,*
the Jesuit news weekly.
And the question the author raised is the same question posed
by today’s gospel:
How many times is forgiveness necessary?
How often must I forgive my brother or sister?
How often must I forgive myself?
According to Jesus, once is not enough.
Twice isn’t sufficient.
Three times isn’t the charm.
If you’re lucky, 77 times might do the trick.
Why do you suppose he says that?
Might it be for the simple reason
that real forgiveness doesn’t come overnight?
* * *
Let’s switch from TV show to real life.
This past weak I was talking to a young woman
who is employed by Children Protective Services
in a rural county here in the Midwest.
(If any of you think that life is sweeter in the country
and that families are strong and loving
and child abuse is problem confined mainly to the city,
she’ll set you straight.)
Bonnie is a social worker.
Her job doesn’t require her to “forgive”
but it does require her to exercise skills
that are somewhat similar to forgiveness.
Sometimes she is called to homes
where children have been neglected
or have been physically and brutally abused.
Then, a few days later, she must work with the perpetrators;
helping them come to terms with what they have done
and helping the court assess appropriate options
between foster homes, time in jail, family counseling or a combination of all three.
It is very difficult work
and when I asked Bonnie
how she manages to keep her emotions under wrap,
she said that the training she received
helps her maintain some level of perspective but, she added,
there is a tension that you carry within you.
I found her use of the word “tension” very revealing.
In other words,
when faced with situations where your heart is in agony
and every fiber of your being wants to scream out at the sharp realization
of pain, hurt, destruction and injustice…
prudence requires a suspension of judgment
and a willingness to allow time to take its course.
That’s tension…that’s an incredible amount of tension
to have to hold inside yourself.
And if the harm has been done to someone you love,
you’re doing well if you simply manage to refrain from seeking vengeance…
At that point, the notion of forgiveness is so far down the road
and you can’t even begin to think about it.
I bring this up because I think it is important
to give this passage…this difficult passage…a true hearing.
When Jesus says,
“You must forgive from the heart,”
he’s not suggesting that it’s easy or that it’s something that happens overnight.
“77 times” would seem to indicate that forgiveness requires
extensive therapy…and lots of time.
We know how long it takes for a broken bone to heal.
And we don’t expect someone on crutches
to jump back into the game.
Likewise, when your soul is injured, it does no good to pretend
that the pain doesn’t exist or that nothing traumatic has happened.
When someone ruins your reputation
When your spouse has betrayed you
When a daughter refuses to call you
Or a son refuses to respect you…
the hurt reaches to the heart
and there the work of forgiveness begins…slowly…like working a knee
after surgery for an injured ligament.
It takes time, lots of time, to work through the pain.
But, as with a jammed up knee,
if you want to ran again…
you’ll work through the pain…
It just might require 77 leg lifts a day…
but in the end, your heart will be healed and your spirit set free.
*"Fear and Trembling in Oceania: Pondering ABC's 'Lost'" by Jim McDermott, America, September 12, 2005, pp. 19-20.
posted by BlueCollarPreacher at 8:08 PM
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