Pastor Aaron

The Practice of Reconciliation

The Practice of Reconciliation

Call to Worship

Here we engage in the spiritual practice of reconciliation. You might be more familiar with this practice if I use the name “confession” or “confession and forgiveness.” I prefer the word reconciliation because the word because it communicates more than listing off the ways we have hurt God and one another. Additionally, I fear that forgiveness is something of a weakened concept today. Many of us equate forgiveness with “I forgive you but a will not forget what you did to me,” which is far removed from the image of forgiveness that God offers us. God offers us complete and total reconciliation––a fully restored relationship with God and with others. So this evening we will explore this multi-faceted practice.

The grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

Let us pray.

Holy God, out of your great love for the world, your Word became flesh to live among us and to reconcile us to you and to one another. Rekindle among us the gift of your Spirit that we might live as one new humanity in Christ, dismantling the walls that divide, ending the hostility between us, and proclaiming peace to all people; through Christ Jesus, in whom we all have access in the one Spirit to you, both now and forever. Amen.

Confession

Our first exercise in reconciliation is the order for confession and forgiveness found in the church’s liturgy. I am using the wording that is likely most familiar to you. I have broken up the liturgy by sentence and will show it on your screen. You are all muted, but you can read along with me. There will be a minute or two of silence in which you can reflect on concrete examples from your life that correlate with that particular part of the confession. Engage in this time with open hearts and minds.

Most merciful God,

we confess that we are captive to sin and cannot free ourselves.

We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.

We have not loved you with our whole heart.

We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.

We are truly sorry and humbly repent.

For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us.

Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name. Amen.

God, who is rich in mercy, loved us even when we were dead in sin, and made us alive together with Christ. By grace you have been saved. In the name of +Jesus Christ, your sins are forgiven. Almighty God strengthen you with power through the Holy Spirit, that Christ may live in your hearts through faith. Amen.

Word

A reading from the gospel of Matthew:

“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder'; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.' But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, "You fool,' you will be liable to the hell of fire. So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser….” (Matthew 5:21-37)

Practice of Reconciliation

Earlier I mentioned that another term for the practice of reconciliation is “confession and forgiveness.” There is yet another term that addresses this practice, that is “salvation.” It might make Lutherans a little uneasy to think of salvation as a spiritual practice because we’re inclined to think of salvation as something that takes place entirely on God’s side of things. It is by faith that God saves us; we are not saved by our actions. That is absolutely true. And yet, because the restoration of all things is God’s ultimate goal––because that is what God promises and offers to us––then there is a particular way that we are to act in response to that gift. Certainly you can see the fault in the logic of thinking, “Since God has saved me, I do not have to forgive that person who wronged me (nor do I have to seek forgiveness from that person I wronged).”  

I have drawn a lot from the writing of Richard Foster as I have learned about the spiritual disciplines and he says this, “The Bible views salvation as both an event and a process….[it is a discipline] because there are things we must do. It is a consciously chosen course of action that brings us under the shadow of the Almighty.” (Celebration of Discipline, 145).

Practicing the discipline of reconciliation reorients us to float along with the divine current of God’s work in the world, rather than swimming upstream in pursuit of our own ego-driven desires.

One more word of background before we engage in another exercise. I recently read a book on the topic of spiritual healing. This book put me well beyond my comfort zone and I am still wrestling with a lot of what the author had to say; but I want to convey one idea to you because you might find it informative.

To put it simply, the author, Agnes Samford, suggests we think about healing along the lines of an electric current. The energy flow starts with God, flows through you in prayer, and is received by the one for whom you are praying. The electrical energy from God is always on and dependable. We are to make sure that our switch is flipped to the “on” position so that it can flow to the subject of our prayer. If our switch is turned off, we disrupt the flow of God’s energy. If you are praying for healing for someone in your life, the most important thing you can do is to remove any barrier that would block God’s energy. The clearest example would be praying that someone would be healed without actually believing God will heal that person. Perhaps this is what’s behind Jesus’ instruction in Matthew 5 to be reconciled with your brother or sister before offering your gift at the altar. Withholding your forgiveness of another, as well as not accepting God’s forgiveness of you, makes it impossible to cooperate with God’s ongoing work of restoration and reconciliation in the world. 

The stakes are very high; so let’s practice. Take a moment now to think of someone whom you need to forgive. This person, knowingly or unknowingly, hurt you on a deep level and you have not yet mustered up the energy to forgive him or her. Picture this person. Get as detailed as you can. This might prove to be the hardest step of the exercise because one technique we use to cling to our condemnation of another is to not think of the offender as an actual person. The more real they become in our minds, the easier it is to see them as human and worth receiving your forgiveness.     

While holding this image of the offender, identify where in your body you feel the pain of his or her offense. If the offender said you were stupid, think of your brain. If the offender said you have a character deficiency, think of your heart. If the offender physically hurt you, think of that physical location on your body.

Now imagine that place on your body being filled with light––the kind of radiant light equivalent to staring at the sun, yet there is no pain when you look at this light. It is a light that permeates everything, leaving no shadows or dark corners. It grows from that one place on your body until your whole body is filled with light and feels warm. Now see that light shine from you towards the one whom you need to forgive. See this person filled with the same light, warmth, and divine energy. See this person as God sees this person: a beloved image-bearer of the divine––a child of the light.

God seeks to be reconciled with you. God seeks you to be reconciled with that person. This is only possible when we invite God’s light, energy, and power to work through us, in spite of our reservations, fears, or doubts.

A Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love;
where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union;

where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy;  

Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.  

For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

The Big "Why?"

John 11:32-44 

When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, "Where have you laid him?" They said to him, "Lord, come and see." Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, "See how he loved him!" But some of them said, "Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?" Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, "Take away the stone." Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, "Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days." Jesus said to her, "Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?" So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, "Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me." When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."


The original, pre-Coronavirus, plan for today was for the high school youth and I to use the sermon time to share our experiences about our mission trip to North Carolina. We would have arrived home yesterday; but, of course, we never went on the trip. 

I imagine that by this point in our collective social distancing experience you are well aware of the things you have been missing out on. Some of you, like me, are lamenting missing out on long-awaited travel experiences. Some are missing work (or at least work as you knew it). Others are missing out on physical proximity and relationships. And most of us miss living in a world where the thought of being subjected to a deadly disease was not at the forefront of our mind whenever we venture to the grocery store. 

All of these things that we miss are legitimate. There’s nothing wrong for wishing things could have turned out differently, for wishing that our lives look more like they did a couple weeks ago before everything changed. 

Much of what we feel today is what’s behind Mary’s words to Jesus following the death of her brother Lazarus. Recall that when Jesus arrives in Judea from Jerusalem Mary tells him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 

This is simultaneously a confession of great faith and a confession of great frustration. Mary believes Jesus has the power to prevent death. What an extraordinary claim...an extraordinary claim rooted in the many times she witnessed him healing others. Mary also feels let down that Jesus did not arrive in time to help her brother. Mary laments that her life has changed completely in the course of one week, and she feels like Jesus did nothing to prevent it. 

This dynamic is the core question that has frustrated God’s people throughout history. If God can heal people, why didn’t God heal that person?

Sit with that question for a moment. I think it’s a universal concern that will bring up very specific examples in your mind. Maybe you are drawn to one particular person in your life who suffered in such a way that it seemed like God was not present. Who is it in your life that causes you to march up to Jesus and demand an explanation? “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

“Lord, if you had been here, my spouse would not have died.”

“Lord, if you had been here, my child would not have died.”

“Lord, if you had been here, my friend would not have died.”

“Lord, if you had been here, thousands of people would not have died from this disease.”

All these thoughts and questions are perfectly acceptable. It is perfectly acceptable to be disturbed by the pain, injustice, suffering, and death that is in our world. It is perfectly acceptable because God, too, is greatly disturbed by these things. 

Notice how Jesus responds to Mary. He doesn’t disregard her concerns as unfaithful or short-sighted. He doesn’t get defensive or argue that it’s all part of God’s plan. Instead, we read that Jesus was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. Jesus, the Son of God, had a friend who died. This made him feel greatly disturbed and deeply moved. 

This demonstrates that God is not far off, detached, or watching the events of our world play out while sitting safely on the sideline. Rather, God is here in the thick of it, in the pain and devastation and fear and suffering and loss and death and grief. God doesn’t want any of that for any of us. It’s not the way things were meant to be. I simply have to believe that because I’m not about to worship a God who stands apart from all the pain and suffering and either says, “Not my problem” or “Get over it” or “At least she’s in a better place now.”

It is comforting to know that God is with us in our suffering; but we are still left with a giant “why.” Why? Why is there pain and devastation and fear and suffering and loss and death and grief? 

I have no answers to that question. It’s one of the great unanswerable questions. To be clear, volumes have been written in an attempt to explain the problem of suffering. But in my experience they all eventually fall short of providing a satisfactory answer. 

But we can still ask the question. We have to ask the question. Otherwise we resign our faith to one of two false extremes: either a God who causes these things to happen or a God who is completely powerless to stop them. Asking the question keeps us in the paradox and uncertainty, which is a perfectly safe place for your faith to reside. Faith, after all, is only possible in the absence of certainty.

Now, what happens next in the story does not answer the question of suffering, but it is incredible and important nonetheless.

What happens next is that Jesus, greatly disturbed in spirit, commands Lazarus to come out from his tomb. And he does! This dead man’s lungs take in oxygen, his heart beats and pumps blood throughout his body, the neurons in his brain fire. The dead man walks out from his tomb and into the presence of God. As impressive as the raising of Lazarus is, it is only a taste of what is to come; for, shortly, Jesus will go to even greater lengths to defeat death and fully resurrect. And even that is just a taste; for, in due time, all of God’s creation will be resurrected. All of God’s creation will live again. Your friend, your sibling, your parents, your child, you, and I...all will live again. 

So, when you experience suffering and death, go ahead and ask “why?” It is a perfectly healthy and natural thing to do. But please also take courage in the good news that though we cannot explain why there is suffering and death, we know that it is not our ultimate destination. God has the last word, and that word is life!

Amen.