Monthly Archives: September 2017

MtE Update – September 28 2017

The latest MtE News

  1. This Sunday October 1 there will be a conversation following morning tea of the “Voluntary Assisted Dying/Suicide” consultation paper prepared by the VicTas Synod’s Justice and International Mission unit. Rosalie will lead us in one aspect of the document before we open up to a general discussion. You can download the document here, or pick up a hard copy at church on Sunday. If you’re pressed for time, pp.22-51 of the document might be the most helpful for our conversation.
  2. The next “Conversations which make a difference” at Church of All Nations (Carlton) will be on Friday October 20; see here for more info.
  3. “Sin boldly!” in October: In October Christ Church Kensington (76 McCracken Street, Kensington) celebrates the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation, especially one of its leaders, Martin Luther—who actually meant it when he said, “Sin boldly!” On three Tuesday evenings at 7:30 PM (10, 17, and 24 October) at Christ Church, members of CCK will gather to learn about Luther (and what he meant by his “advice”). We will be reading portions of a short book, Martin Luther: A Very Short Introduction by Scott H. Hendrix, available from Book Depository and Amazon. If you would like to participate, please let Craig know and he’ll pass on your interest to the organisers (or let Margaret Rolfe [Christ Church] know directly).
  4. For those interested in some background commentary to the readings for this Sunday October 1, see the links here. We are presently hearing the Series II OT readings on Sunday.
  5. Go Tiges.

Other things potentially of interest

  1. TEAR Australia Justice Conference (Melbourne, October)

 

October 6 –  William Tyndale

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

William Tyndale (c.1494-1556)reformer of the Church

Born to a yeoman family in Stinchcombe, Gloucestershire, where Lollard influences appear to have survived, he studied in Magdalen Hall, Oxford from 1510-15, gaining an MA and being ordained, possibly in 1514. He appears to have met Erasmus when he was teaching in Cambridge, gaining from him a passionate commitment to translation of the Bible4 into the vernacular. For some 18 months, he lived with Sir John and Lady Walsh in Little Sodbury, possibly as a tutor, and took a lively part in the theological discussion in their home Suspected of unorthodoxy, he translated Erasmus’ Enchiridion to underline his Christian commitment. He needed episcopal support to translate the New Testament, but Bishop Tunstall of London refused that in late 1523.. Tyndale, however, had built up support among London merchants like Humphrey Monmouth, who later were to help to distribute his translations.

He went to Hamburg in early 1524 and later that year moved to Wittenberg. His New Testament translation was published in Cologne in 1525 and Worms in 1526 after narrowly escaping confiscation by the authorities.  Some copies reached England in 1526. Many were burnt and Sir Thomas More, in his Dialogue concerning heresies published in 1529, attacked numerous alleged errors in translation, claiming that English was not a suitable language for conveying theological truth. Tyndale forcibly replied the following year in Answer to More, to which More replied in his Confutation. Tyndale was living clandestinely in Antwerp, supported by some English merchants there. In addition to continuing his translations, he wrote on aspects of Christian discipleship in Parable of the wicked Mammon and Obedience of a Christian man in 1528 and Practice of prelates in 1530. For a time he was assisted by George Joye, but their partnership broke up because of deep differences over translation.

Thomas Cromwell made several attempts to contact Tyndale through Stephen Vaughan, but his attempts to persuade Tyndale to return home failed, because he did not trust the goodwill of Henry VIII. Fluent in Hebrew and Greek, Tyndale also made discerning use of Luther in Prologue to Romans (1528) the Pentateuch (153o), Jonah (1531), Genesis 1534). He was constantly frustrated by printing mistakes, but was an outstanding translator, putting the Scriptures into vivid and readily understandable English which still resonates with readers.

A sharp critic of the papacy and medieval formularies, he was constantly at the risk of arrest. Finally betrayed by Henry Phillips, he was imprisoned at Vilvorde near Brussels in May, 1534 on the orders of Henry VIII.  His trial for heresy was very comprehensive, but he continued to revise the New Testament and translate the Old Testament. He was strangled and burnt on 6 October, 1536.

Though sometimes abrasive personally, he could also be warm and generous in pastoral care.He demonstrated the positive features of Reformation discipleship.  His translations were incorporated into officially approved English Bibles up to the Authorised Version, so that his influence continued until late in the 20th century.

by Rev Dr Ian Breward

Lectionary Commentary – Sunday/Ordinary 27A; Proper 22A (October 2 – October 8)

The following links are to the Revised Common Lectionary commentary pages of Howard Wallace and Bill Loader, and are suggested as preparation for hearing the readings in worship for the Sunday indicated above.

Series I: Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20 and Psalm 19

Series II: Isaiah 5:1-7 and Psalm 80.7-15 (see Psalm 80:1-2, 8-19)

Matthew 21:23-32

Philippians 2:1-13

 

 

October 6 –  Helen Pearl Mackenzie

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Helen Pearl Mackenzie (1913-2009), medical missionary and educator

HELEN Mackenzie, who was instrumental in bringing life and health to many mothers and babies, and training women doctors in obstetrics and gynaecology in postwar Korea, has died at an aged-care facility in Kew. She was 95.

Born in Pusan, Korea, the eldest daughter of five children of the Reverend James and Mary Mackenzie, missionaries of the Presbyterian Church, she was educated at the American Missionary School in Pyongyang, now the capital of North Korea. She completed her schooling with one year at Presbyterian Ladies College in Melbourne.

Helen and her younger sister, Cath, felt called to return to Korea as missionaries and from their childhood experience were convinced that they needed medical training. Helen studied medicine at Melbourne University, and with a friend during holidays she rode a bicycle once to Adelaide and twice to Sydney; they slept in barns and church halls along the way. In her pack was a dress and hat for when she attended church.

Helen graduated as one of the few women do so in medicine in 1938. World War II prevented her from going to Korea, but she gained invaluable experience at Queen Victoria Hospital in Melbourne, where she became acting medical superintendent. In 1944, Helen and Cath accepted a call from the Church of Christ in China and the following year they established a small hospital in an old Taoist temple in Jianshui, Yunnan. It took some time but the facility was accepted by the people; it was the only “Western medicine” within a three-day journey. Much to their sorrow, they had to leave in 1950 after the communist takeover, not knowing what would happen to the hospital. (In 2007, a colleague travelled to Jianshui and found that the hospital had continued to grow and was now a major part of the provincial hospital.)

On return to Australia, the Mackenzie sisters again hoped to go to Korea, but this time were frustrated by the Korean War. However, in 1951, they were appointed by the Australian Presbyterian Mission Board and in February 1952 eventually landed in Pusan, at that time a city of refugees with overwhelming medical needs. The Korean Ministry of Health and United Nations agencies advised them that the main need was for maternal and child health, something for which the sisters were well suited.

On September 17, 1952, Il Sin Women’s Hospital was opened in a kindergarten hall with 20 beds and a staff of five. The name “Il Sin” was chosen because it was the name of the pre-war Australian mission school, and very appropriate for an obstetric hospital as it means “Daily New”. There were two main objectives. One was to accept anyone who came, irrespective of that person’s ability to pay and regardless of their religion, or lack of any faith. This differed from the local system in which a person had to pay first, and the local church, which felt that a Christian hospital was primarily for Christians.

The Mackenzies, however, were convinced that through the healing ministry, God’s love should be to shown to all. The other main objective was to train women doctors in obstetrics and gynaecology, and nurses in midwifery.

At that time it was difficult for women doctors to get good post-graduate training, and with changes in nursing education, nurses were being given midwifery certificates along with their basic certificate, sometimes not even having seen a normal delivery. Through hard work and determination, using limited and basic resources, the Mackenzies, along with the Korean staff, built the hospital into one that was highly regarded throughout Korea for training and for expert care.

Helen was a brilliant surgeon and a great educator; although often tired given the constant load, she gave of herself for hours in the operating theatre or delivery room. When Helen retired in February 1976, 12 doctors had been trained in obstetrics and gynaecology – and since then another 120 have graduated. Other doctors have been trained in pediatrics, family medicine and anaesthetics, all women except for three or four. By last month, 2599 nurses had graduated as midwives, and 284,655 women delivered of their babies.

After she retired, Helen studied theology at the Melbourne College of Divinity, and wrote a biography of her father titled Mackenzie – Man of Mission (Hyland House, 1995). She also continued her love of music as someone who was able to play many instruments: tuba in her school band, then cello, clarinet, piano, and in her 70s she learnt to play the pipe organ.

Helen received many awards from the Korean Government and in 1962, along with Cath, she was awarded the MBE. In October 2002, she was awarded an honorary fellowship of the Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists in recognition not only of her expertise in this field, although she had not received specialist training, but also of all that she did to train women in that specialty.

Helen is survived by her sisters Lucy Lane and Sheila Krysz, and their families.

Lucy Lane (Helen Mackenzie’s sister)

and Dr Barbara Martin (a colleague)

Lectionary Commentary – Sunday/Ordinary 26A; Proper 21A (September 25 – October 1)

The following links are to the Revised Common Lectionary commentary pages of Howard Wallace and Bill Loader, and are suggested as preparation for hearing the readings in worship for the Sunday indicated above.

Series I: Exodus Exodus 17:1-7 and Psalm 78 

Series II: Ezekiel 18 (no link) and Psalm 25:1-10

Matthew 21:23-32

Philippians 2:1-13

 

October 4 –  Clare & Francis of Assisi

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Clare & Francis of Assisi, faithful servants

Francis of Assisi (c.1182-1226) and Clare of Assisi (c.1194-1253) are among the best-loved saints in the Christian tradition. Over the centuries they have captured the hearts and imaginations of men and women of all nationalities and creeds. People everywhere have been attracted to their manifest spirituality, their Christlike nature, and their genuine simplicity, devotion and compassion. Their lives are increasingly relevant to today’s world: in 1979 Pope John Paul II named Francis as ‘Patron Saint of Ecology’ and recent studies of Clare portray her not only as a fervent disciple of Francis but also as a new leader of women and ‘a light for our time’. Francis and Clare shared a similar vision—a love of the crucified Christ and a desire to lead a biblically-inspired, simple life modelled on the example of Christ in the Gospels. The chief characteristics of their spirituality may be treated under four headings: poverty, contemplation or prayer, mission and creation.

Francis and Clare embraced voluntary poverty because they wanted to imitate Jesus who had made himself poor for us (2 Cor. 8.9). Christ’s freely-chosen material poverty defined their whole manner of life. Francis’ understanding of poverty was shaped by Christ’s total obedience to the will of the Father. He saw in Jesus’ obedience a revelation of the humility of God. Clare, on the other hand, had a more ascetical understanding of poverty. She focussed her devotion on the ‘poor Christ’. For Clare, the spiritual life consisted of conforming oneself to the poor Christ by the observance of the most perfect poverty. Poverty was the door to contemplation. By living in poverty, Clare maintained, one might enter upon the ‘narrow’ way that leads to the kingdom of heaven. Following Christ’s example, both Clare and Francis vowed to use only that which was needed and to live without owning anything—no lands, no income, no saving up ‘for a rainy day’, no possessions beyond what was needed for daily life. Poverty was a source of their joy and freedom. It was a treasure to be sought, the ‘pearl of great price’.

Both Clare and Francis emphasized the close association between poverty and prayer (contemplation). For Clare, the ‘poor Christ’ was a mirror into which she gazes. She was awe-struck by the poverty of Him who was placed in the manger. She was overwhelmed by the mystery of God’s love that led Christ to suffer on the Cross. Her prayer gives us insight into her life of contemplation: ‘Gaze upon Him, consider (Him), contemplate Him.’ Her way of being was to be a mirror to others living in the world. Clare was careful to point out that no other work was to supersede the spirit of prayer and devotion. For Francis, however, contemplation was focused on the Eucharist. Participation in the Eucharist was tantamount to the apostles’ own experience of being with the earthly and incarnate Jesus. Thus, the mystery of the Eucharist enabled Francis to ‘see’ the poor and crucified Christ and to respond in a similar form of humility. The simple prayer that Francis taught his followers expresses his intense devotion to the Eucharist: ‘We adore You, Lord Jesus Christ, in all your churches throughout the world, and we bless You, for through Your holy cross, You have redeemed the world.’

Francis’ idea of poverty was also linked to his understanding of mission. In poverty Francis found a freedom that fostered reconciliation. In the spirit of poverty he urged his followers to adopt a simple, non-polemical style of missionary presence, to renounce any desire to dominate, and to minister mostly among the poor. Francis was accustomed to saying, ‘The poor are sacraments of Christ for in them we see the poor and humble Christ.’ When a brother asked if it were proper to feed some robbers, he responded affirmatively, for in every person he saw a possible thief and in every thief a possible brother or sister.

Finally, Francis’ concern for the environment was also shaped by his devotion to Christ. While the whole created order is a reminder of God’s goodness and to be received as gift, there are certain things that are worthy of our special love and care because they symbolise aspects of the nature and activity of Christ. Thus, rocks reminded Francis of the rock that was Christ, lambs of the Lamb of God, trees of the Cross, and lights of the Light of the World. In Francis’ magnificent hymn, the ‘Canticle of Brother Son’, he expresses his vision of a reconciled world that reflects the poor and crucified Christ. This, it is commonly said, is the deepest meaning of the Francis’ stigmata: his being becomes what he ‘sees’, he lives the life of Christ as literally as it is humanly possible.

Contributed by William Emilsen

24 October – Graced work

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Pentecost 16
24/9/2017

Jonah 3:10-4:11
Psalm 145
Matthew 20:1-16


[There is something is very troubling about God’s economy. It’s bad enough that those who work only an hour are paid the same as those who’ve worked the whole day. But the point is made without apology, and events unfold so that the unfairness is emphasised and made unmistakable to all. The landowner deliberately pays first those who’ve worked only an hour, so that there’s no possibility that anyone misses the point. We’re expected to be offended. Now, clearly what we have here is not a proposal for an economic or industrial relations policy, but a statement about what it is to deal with the God who sent Jesus. The concept which is usually thrust forward here to help us understand what is going on is “grace”. God freely does with people as he wishes, and he wishes to bless. But we need to think more deeply than such an all-too-easily applied theological label as “grace” might suggest.]

One thing we understand straightaway in Jesus’ story of the workers in the vineyard is that those who’ve worked the whole day are horrified at what has happened. At the same time, we are supposed to see that the all-dayers have received exactly what they contracted for, and so the landowner rightly rejects their objections. It’s his money. If he wants to fritter it away with such extravagant payments, he may. And so we might see that the parable points an accusing finger at those pious and upright people who would deny that God can be gracious even to those who have not contributed much in God’s “vineyard”. The point seems simple enough: do not presume to limit God’s freedom to be gracious to whomever he chooses.

But this is still all too simple if we think the point is merely “grace to late comers”. For if God shows “grace” to those who start work at 9am, noon, 3 and then 5 o’clock, what does God show to those who began work at the start of the day (6am)? Simplistic talk about the grace which God shows to the late starters actually turns his relationship to the early starters into a graceless contract of work and reward. The late starters were told: “go into the vineyard, and you will be paid whatever is right”. But the early starters were later reminded, “did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Did we not have a contract?” On this reading, while the late starters receive more than they would normally be due, it seems that the early starters receive only what they were due. The late-starters have been gratuitously blessed, but early starters have been paid.

Simplistically naming as “grace” God’s blessing of the late-comers leaves us with a problem: some seem to receive what they need on account of what they have done, and some receive irrespective of what they have done. If the lucky latecomers get into God’s good graces simply because God chooses to bless them and does not require that they do as the all-day workers have been doing, what does that say about the work the all-dayers have been doing? Or, more generally, if grace is overwhelming, what is the value of work?

The only answer which makes any sense of the paradox of work and grace – here and elsewhere – is an extraordinary one: the work we are given to do is the form of the grace we receive. The lavishness of the landowner shows clearly that he doesn’t measure the workers’ value by the quantity of work they do. Yet all have been put to work. At the same time, the landowner is able to bless the workers whether they’ve put in a full day’s work or not, for he clearly doesn’t need what they produce in order to bless. If the owner does not need the work to be done in order to pay the workers, then the work must actually be for the workers’ sake, and not for his.

The “grace” here, then, is not the generous payment at the end of the day. The grace is the invitation to see our lives as lived in the vineyard of this master. Here, the payment is not for the work done but is the sign of what they have been engaged in. It is easy to read this story as a parable of the “end-times”, so that the real pay-day is at some time yet to come. But the very opportunity of working in this vineyard, now, is itself the grace.  The early-starters thought they were merely toiling away, earning what was really a freely-given blessing. Their error is not that they moaned about the others being blessed. It was that they thought that they themselves worked in order to be paid. (Cf. the parable of the two sons [the prodigal son, Luke 15.11ff], and in particular the protests of the elder son at his father’s response to the return of the younger, and the father’s response to this objection.) In fact their work was their pay, only they did not experience it as such.  The day’s pay is the sign, the meaning, of the work which has been done, not the consequence of it. The work to which God’s people are called is blessed work because in it – in the concrete and tangible necessities of daily life – the kingdom of God becomes present.

The parable challenges us: Reassess your understanding of the work you have been given to do. You are engaged in the work of grace. What you do is a participation in the very act of creation. What else is grace but the calling into being of things which do not exist? A life lived in grace is no different.

More typically, work is associated with fear. We fear that the work we do will not be good enough to warrant our pay. We fear what others will think if we don’t get it just right, or even fear our own judgement of ourselves. We fear for our prospects if it seems that neither present nor future work will deliver the kinds of resources we think we need for life. We that what we are required to do might not, in the end, actually matter.

But if, as in the parable, the owner of the business of life doesn’t really care how much we produce but pays us regardless, the fear in the labour of our lives disappears. Work becomes activity in grace – even “toiling in the hot sun”. Work becomes something we are freed for, rather than by which we are bound.

Divine grace is not about our standing before God in some as-yet unspecified future, receiving then our daily bread. It is about God’s standing before us now, inviting us to work in the vineyard, redefining for us what we are doing, sustaining us in that work with the manna of grace. The work God gives us to do is central to the way God blesses us. This is the case for us as we make our way through Christian life by attending worship or giving of our resources as we are able. It’s the case for a church council which is confronted with the challenges of maintaining properties, paying stipends, making ends meet, growing congregations. It’s the case for a congregation having to deal with the revelation of abuse in its midst. It’s the case for an individual who finds herself moved to share faith with a neighbour. It is the case for the difficulties of coming to terms with our property challenges here, and for the hard work of Hotham Mission. It is the case for the struggle of dealing with overwhelming illness and grief.

How often these things are for us imagined as sheer burdens we have to bear. And, if we manage to bear them, how often we then secretly imagine ourselves worthy of reward. But if Christian existence is a burden which we bear in order to be rewarded by God, or by those around us, then it is not Christian existence. Taking up the cross, as Jesus invites us, is not a matter of subjecting ourselves to heavy burdens in order to achieve righteousness. The cross is a lens through which we see what a true life is like, in the world and before God.

What do we see through this lens? The life of Jesus himself, grace in the midst of ungrace, given to us our very own life. We see that we are co-workers with Christ in the vineyard which will be God’s heaven. We are co-creators with God. Our work is a share in the calling to order of the chaotic world around us, a calling to fullness of the void of meaningless effort.

That is the blessing of the gospel. It is this to which we invite others, and it is because they will also be blessed in such work that we celebrate should they join us.

So let us, then, rejoice that God gives us a life to live, work to do, a vineyard in which to labour. And let’s get on with it, looking to see what good God might do with our efforts.

Amen.

MtE Update – September 21 2017

The latest MtE News:

  1. The latest Pilgrim College news (September 18) is here.
  2. The latest Presbytery update (September 20) is here.
  3. For those interested in some background commentary to the readings for this Sunday September 24, see the links here. We are presently hearing the Series II OT readings on Sunday.
  4. “Sin boldly!” in October: In October Christ Church Kensington (76 McCracken Street, Kensington) celebrates the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation, especially one of its leaders, Martin Luther—who actually meant it when he said, “Sin boldly!” On three Tuesday evenings at 7:30 PM (10, 17, and 24 October) at Christ Church, members of CCK will gather to learn about Luther (and what he meant by his “advice”). We will be reading portions of a short book, Martin Luther: A Very Short Introduction by Scott H. Hendrix, available from Book Depository and Amazon. If you would like to participate, please let Craig known and he’ll pass on your interest to the organisers (or let Margaret Rolfe [Christ Church] know directly).
  5. On Sunday October 1 there will be a conversation following morning tea of the “Voluntary Assisted Dying/Suicide” consultation paper prepared by the VicTas Synod’s Justice and International Mission unit. Rosalie will lead us in one aspect of the document before we open up to a general discussion. You can download the document here, or pick up a hard copy at church on Sunday (72 pages long!).The purpose of the discussion is to:
    • To give an opportunity for members of the conversation to make comments, ask questions, and “overhear” the discussion of others on this question
    • To invite members to contribute in feedback to the Synod on this question (responses can be made up to October 20, 2017)

    Reading the consultation paper

    The consultation paper is long. It comprises:

    1. the recommendations on the governmental Ministry Advisory Committee, which outline how legislation enabling voluntary assisted dying might be constructed (pp8-19);
    2. existing VicTas Synod resolutions on the matter, theological reflections of selected members of the church, and formally expressed views of other churches (pp20-48);
    3. reasons why assisted dying laws might be needed (pp49-51); and
    4. an overview of such laws in other places (52ff)

    While reading the whole of the report will be helpful, our conversation will likely focus on the theological reflections, in connection with the “reasons why” section (that is, pp.22-51).

 

Lectionary Commentary – Sunday/Ordinary 25A; Proper 20A (September 18 – September 24)

The following links are to the Revised Common Lectionary commentary pages of Howard Wallace and Bill Loader, and are suggested as preparation for hearing the readings in worship for the Sunday indicated above.

Series I: Exodus 16:2-15 and Psalm 105:1-6, 37-45

Series II: Jonah 3.10-4.11 (no link) and Psalm 145.1-8  (see Psalm 145:1-5, 17-28)

Philippians 1:21-30

Matthew 20:1-16

17 September – The unforgiven forgiven

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Pentecost 15
17/9/2017

Romans 14:1-12
Psalm 103
Matthew 18:21-35


Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. I’ll not continue to 77 times (much less 70 x 7 times – an alternative translation)! Jesus clearly sees forgiveness an important part of the life of the community of his disciples. So far as it depends on you, forgive. We might add to this, so far as it depends on you, seek forgiveness and to live a forgiven life. And here we strike a problem for the forgiven life.

The parable Jesus uses to illustrate the nature of forgiveness is clear enough in itself. A slave with an impossibly large debt has it forgiven and yet is unwilling to forgive another slave a miniscule obligation. The comic difference of the debts illustrates the failure of the one who is forgiven. We learn that, having been forgiven, we are expected to become forgiving. The kingdom of heaven is like this.

We’ve noted before that the parables are not properly allegories in which the characters or exchanges are codes for characters and events in our typical experience. This parable, however, lends itself quite well to being read as an allegory: the king is God and the slaves are us; the king is clearly merciful and just and we are taught to honour and to echo that mercy and justice.

Let us, however, change the parable along these lines: A slave owes a great debt to another slave. She is called to account for what she owes, but cannot pay it. She begs, then, for more time to pay but he is unwilling, and requires that she and her family and possessions be sold in order to pay for what she owes. The king – their master – however, hears of this, and forgives her the debt she owes to the other slave, saving her from the loss of everything. The one to whom she owed the great debt is left without satisfaction. Is the kingdom of heaven also like this? For there seems to be an injustice here, to which we might strongly object – especially if we are the ones left without repayment.

And yet, consider the way we speak of God’s forgiveness in the church. Does not the liturgist invite us to confession of sin and then declare a word of forgiveness, in response to which we express our thanks and sing a doxology? And is not that confessed sin usually “real” sin, concrete in real interactions with real people, most of whom are not here and not party to this exchange of confession and forgiveness? To put the question most concretely, How can I be forgiven by God for sins against another person who would still hold me to account for that sin, who still withholds her or his forgiveness (or, perhaps, is dead)? Here we speak of ourselves as “fully” forgiven – for God does not half forgive – and yet the effect of our sin continues in the rupture between me and the one I’ve hurt.

We might put our question about forgiveness from God a little differently: What does it mean to be forgiven – to be in right relation to God – and still to be labouring under the effects of sin? To this framing of the question, the following answer can be put: to be living in right relation to God and yet also to continue to labour under the effects of sin, is to be living the life of the incarnate Son, Jesus. What else is the life of Jesus but that of a human being living in right relation to God? And what else is the life of Jesus – culminating and so defined in his death – but a life lived with the effects of sin?

We can say, then, that it is possible to be reconciled to God and yet still be unreconciled to those who have not forgiven us, simply because Jesus the incarnate Son lived precisely this life – our life. His was a life lived in full orientation to God. The fullness of this orientation for us is that which divine forgiveness brings; God does not “half” forgive. The life of Jesus was also lived in full orientation to the world and its lack of reconciliation within itself. Jesus lives fully oriented towards God – we might even dare to say, Jesus is “forgiven” – and yet still has enemies, is still unforgiven by the world.

“Christian forgiveness,” then, is not so much being “forgiven” our sin as simply being given – to put on as our own – the humanity of Jesus with its double orientation – to-and-from God and to-and-from the broken world.

Talk about Jesus as human and divine is not, then, abstract and groundless speculation on his nature or character. This “dogma” goes straight to the heart of the affirmation we happily make about forgiveness, and sadly make about the continued brokenness of the church and of the world and about our part in that brokenness. We need to be able to say how it is that we can speak of ourselves as whole before God – as restored, forgiven – knowing that we continue in broken relationships, with debtors and accusers who have no interest in whether God has “forgiven” us or not. To put the matter more “theologically”, we need to be able to say how perfecting divine action meets imperfect human actions. This is what the Christ-dogma does.

In fact, the church does not actually say how this is possible, for the how is a “mystery” – an impenetrable and yet clearly given thing. So the church says simply that the divine and human coincide. It says this not primarily in its dogma about the humanity and divinity of Christ; that comes later. What comes first, and gives rise to the dogma, is the declaration of forgiveness we dare to utter here every week. Here the church declares that it is possible that grace and ungrace can come together without confusion of the two, without the one changing the other, without radical division, without separation. Not only is it possible, it has happened in Jesus. And so, in one of its early councils (Chalcedon 451ad), the church declared what I’ve just said: that in Jesus the truly and holy divine meets the truly and broken human in the most intimate of ways, and yet “without confusion, without change, without division, without separation” of the divine and the human.

This sounds like hifalutin and so quite “optional” theological speculation but its meaning for us is that we can make a Christian declaration of forgiveness: you are forgiven by God for things you have done to people who have not forgiven you. It is the understanding of Jesus as the coming together of the divine and human which makes this affirmation possible. If Jesus is “only human”, then God is unjust in forgiving us our sins. Forgiveness from God, then, takes place to the extent that we are “in” Christ, to the extent that we become the Body of Christ: even if someone holds something against us, we can still receive forgiveness from God for whatever that thing is.

At the same time, this does not make the brokenness of our worldly relationships go away. The wholeness of the humanity of Jesus did not mean that the ongoing effect of broken human relationships did not continue. Jesus dies on the cross – fully in right relation to God, fully in the antagony of being human. And we might expect the same for ourselves, one way or another. This is not necessarily “good” news, but it is the news of the gospel. It is the “cost” of forgiveness. Faith receives a gift of life in the shadow of death. The death will still come, but it will no longer be death to those who have received the lively gift.

What does all this mean? It means that the grace of God is not “cheap”. To receive forgiveness from God is to be called to suffer unforgiveness in the world.

Let us, then, confess our sin, receive the lively gift of forgiveness, and rise with the courage of freed souls to live alive in this antagonistic and broken world.

Amen.

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