The
scripture for today is about two things: (1) Forgiveness, and (2) how to be the
church together. These things are interwoven. How we forgive one another and
how we address conflict and deal with those who we feel have wronged us is
going to directly affect everything about we follow after Jesus. It starts with
accountability to others. We have to know forgiveness with one another so that we
can begin to wrap our heads around the goodness of God’s forgiveness of us
Unfortunately, we live in a world
where people see our brokenness and take advantage of it. Rather than helping
the most vulnerable by pointing out that God’s grace is for them; abusers I the
church gently coax victims to put their trust in people—in church leadership—rather
than God who has saved you by grace. Abuse runs rampant in the church—in any
institution with power, and the church has plenty
of power. Worse still, because the church feels like it should be a place
of moral authority, it’s easier still for people to be taken advantage of. The
most visible, awful manifestation of this is sexual abuse, but it’s certainly
not the only form. Plenty of pastors are spiritually abusive—whole churches
are.
One form of spiritual abuse showed
up in the mailbox at the parsonage this week in a letter from an organization
called St. Matthew’s Church in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Under the guise of being a church
concerned for you, this organization sends out this stuff, which looks like it
was typed up by a five-year-old, but that doesn’t matter. It says it contains a
prophecy for you, and there are those in our midst who hurt so badly that when
they hear that, they can’t help but feel it is true. They need it to be true. So, it doesn’t matter that this is fraudulent,
blasphemous bologna—it will still attract the most vulnerable, and that’s who
they pray on. When I open this letter, it informs me that all I need to do is
return this prayer handkerchief—it’s a piece of paper, but who’s counting??—and
my most urgent prayers will be answered. In case I’m not sure what those
prayers are, they have some options for me, including “more happiness,” “home
of their (sic) own,” “healings,” “money in the bank,” and, of course, “new
cars.”
Once I send in this prayer
handkerchief, I will then get to open the sealed prophecy. I cheated. And now
all of you are complicit, too. Sorry. The prophecy is as you might expect: all
caps, featuring many underlined and bolded sentences, filled with language about
how blessed I am going to be.
My favorite part is the last line,
which reads, “THANK GOD THAT THIS
ANOINTED PROPERITY HANDKERCHIEF IS BACK IN THE MAIL, ON ITS WAY TO
THIS 68-YEAR-OLD CHURCH. WE THANK YOU! –AMEN”
For the record, the only words in
that sentence not underlined were “that,” “is” “to this 68-year-old” and “We
thank you! –Amen.” Which sort of offends me, because, while it still feels like
they are screaming “We thank you! Amen” at me, it’s not nearly empathic enough
by comparison.
OK, so this is obviously ridiculous.
But if you Google this “church,” you will find that they report taking in
roughly $6 million a month on the backs of this scam. It’s a reminder that
there are a lot of victims and there are always willing perpetrators. In fact,
because it’s in the name of God, it attracts all sorts of spinsters, and
tricksters, and abusers. Just because you put “pastor” in front of your name
does not mean you aren’t an abuser; in fact, it often makes it more likely. Their
victims are the most vulnerable—people desperately in need of something; people
in need of the church, a better church.
If people are sending in money to
this junk, then how much more do they need a community?! The reason this stuff
works in the first place is because we have a lot of people who are lonely, who are praying for a life change, who are desperate for some miracle to come into their lives. Might as well take a chance on this shot in
the dark. Because who knows?!
* * *
The second part of the reading for
today talks about a slave who is pardoned of an enormous debt—in fact, it is an
impossible debt; no slave could have ever run up a debt of ten thousand
talents, nor could he have figured out how on earth to spend that kind of money
in the ancient world. The point is the size of the pardon and that he didn’t
deserve it. He is free to no credit of his own. And you know the rest of the
story: He turns around and shakes out his fellow slave for the few pennies he
is still owed. His response to amazing grace is to squabble over a few coins.
We can laugh. We can look at him like I
look in derision on the refuse I got in the mail. But the sad truth is that
we’re all there with him. We have been given grace and we turn around and act
as if it is nothing.
The church exists to remind us of our
hypocrisy. This is why I have absolutely no qualms about calling out abuse in
the church. None. Zero. Because the church must have leadership that gives of
themselves, following the master. The church must be a placed marked by grace
and covered by humility, which means that, no, the people of the church are not
the master; God is. And the moment we forget that—the moment we make the pastor
the master, or the people who have appointed themselves as guardians of the
gates of the church, whoever that may be—is the moment where we fail to be
church for one another.
Jesus gave us the blueprint for being
church together. Go to one another in conflict. I realize this is against our
ways. It’s so much easier to find people you know will affirm you and then talk
about how terrible so-and-so is, but that’s not the church. And I’m not talking
here to those who feel abused, who sometimes do need to be removed from the
situation and seek more support. Rather, I’m talking to those who have a voice,
because it is easy for me to say. No matter how long I’m pastor here, the
pastor is always temporary. But the thing is: So are all of you. This is God’s
church; not ours.
With that said, the church is not only a
place full of rules about how to interact. It should be, above all, a place
where the grace of God overcomes all the division we bring. It should be a
place where the lonely can find company and the despairing can find hope. It
should be that, and it is. There’s a reason so many people have such a deep
feeling of commitment to this place and its people; there’s a reason you might
never have been able to articulate that you keep coming back; and there’s a
reason you want more people to experience it—to be here, to feel what you feel,
to experience what you’ve felt.
That is the church, but it’s also a
reminder that because it’s God’s church—and not ours—the future may look a bit
different. God will continue to meet new people in new ways. And, yes, God will
forgive us of this impossible debt and we will turn around and make a mess of
it, but we will also experience what is good about this together. The reality
is we don’t know what comes next. No prayer handkerchief will change that. But
at least, as the church, we can face it together, and remind one another that
we are not alone. We can call out abuse and give voice to the voiceless. We can
follow after Jesus one step at a time, because his grace is enough.
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