Henrietta United
Rev.
David Inglis
Luke 6:32-38
Learning to
Pray, Learning to Live: 4. “Out of Debt”
“Forgive
us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” Well, there’s no getting around
it. We’ve come to the line in the Lord’s
Prayer that forces us to look at something that’s unpleasant, unpopular, and
unsettling--sin. And not just sin in
general, but the wrongs that have been done by us, and the wrongs that have
been done to us. Aren’t you glad you came to church today?
I think it was President Grover Cleveland who
went to church one Sunday and got back to the White House later than
expected. Mrs. Cleveland asked him what
had kept him. “The pastor preached a long
sermon about sin,” he explained. “Well,
what did he say about it?” The President
thought for a moment and said, “I think he was against it.”
Pastors have been preaching against sin ever
since there have been sermons. And every
Sunday, we and a couple billion other Christians pray to God, “Forgive us our
debts, as we forgive our debtors.” But
then on Monday, we might wake up to news of domestic violence, and we find ourself
still steaming about that biting comment our spouse or kid made to us
yesterday. On the way to work we might
hear news about road rage, and find ourself seething at the jerk who
cuts us off, and hoping one of those big SUV’s really rams into him one of
these times, like soon.
We might shake our heads over stories of retaliatory killings
in the
I think the best place to start is by
understanding what Jesus meant when he said, “Forgive us our debts.” What are these “debts” Jesus is talking
about? And why do some people say
“trespasses,” and others say “sins”?
Have you ever wondered that?
The word “debts” was sometimes used for “sins”
in the Bible because, if we wrong someone in some way, we owe that person
something to make it right. I’ll give
you an example. An upstanding
out-of-state family I know has a daughter in her 20's that we’ll call
Annie. Annie became very rebellious as a
teen, ran with a bad crowd, and eventually hooked up with a guy who was not
into working but was into drugs. They
had a couple of babies together, and they would periodically drop the kids off
at Annie’s parents’ house and disappear for long periods of time. Sometimes they would steal Annie’s parents credit card before they took off, and would run up
large bills. Her father said, “If she
had taken a knife and driven it right into my heart, she couldn’t have hurt me
more.”
Recently, she got diagnosed with a brain
disorder and began taking medication for it.
She said, “It’s like a fog was lifted from my brain. Now I can see everything clearly.” What she saw very clearly now was how much
she had hurt her parents. So she told
them how sorry she is for everything she did.
She said she wants to do whatever she can to make it up to them.
That’s the sense of being in debt that we have
when we wrong someone. That’s why we
talk about “owing” someone an apology. Often a heartfelt apology is payment
enough. Sometimes some kind of restitution is needed to pay the debt.
Now when we ask God to forgive us our debts,
wouldn’t that also include our unpaid debts to God? What do you owe God? Think about that for a moment. . . . There’s nothing we can give God that God
needs. But there are things that we can
give God because we need to give them--because our lives are
impoverished when we fail to give them.
Things like our gratitude, our trust, our love, our will, our time, our
talents. When we pray this prayer, I
think Jesus also wants us to bring to mind the ways we’ve short-changing God,
and therefore impoverished our own spirits.
Now how about this word “trespasses” that Roman
Catholics and many other Protestants say when we say “debts”? The origin of that was a major third-Century
Christian leader whose name was Origen.
He started using “trespasses” when saying the Lord’s Prayer, and it
stuck until Protestant reformer John Calvin went back to the way it reads in
the Bible, which is “debts.” Origen
probably used it because Jesus used the word “trespasses when he elaborated on
this part of the Lord’s Prayer. Jesus
said, “For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will
also forgive you” (Matthew
To trespass means to step over
the line, like the line between right and wrong, or to go where we don’t
belong. We might think about the line between honesty
and exaggeration, or evading the whole truth, or white lies. We might think about the line between generosity
and giving to look good, or giving to avoid feeling guilty, or giving to make
someone beholden to us. We might think
about the line between love and condescending tolerance, or “being
nice,” or sugar-coated manipulation.
When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, I think Jesus would want us to think
about those lines that we’ve trespassed over in our dealings with people. Even when they don’t hurt another person in
any significant way, they’re all signs that we’re straying away from our
highest self, and we’re crossing the line from God-centered living into
self-centered living. Praying “forgive us our trespasses” can help point us
back toward home, back toward God.
Many Christians today pray “Forgive us our sins,
as we forgive those who sin against us.”
Partly this is to overcome the “debts” versus “trespasses” divide in
Christianity, and partly it’s to use a word that we better understand. But it’s also based on Luke’s version of the
Lord’s Prayer, where Jesus prays, “Forgive us our sins, for we ourselves
forgive everyone indebted to us.” The
Greek word that’s translated as “sins” here is hamartia. It comes from a word that was used in archery
that meant “missing the target.”
Annie’s story helps us see how our sin makes us
miss the mark and fall far short of who God has created us to be. Annie had been missing the target of
everything she had been given life to learn to do–love selflessly, develop her
gifts and offer them to the world, help make the world
a better place.
And who of us isn’t falling short of the target
of who God created us to be? We
always will fall short in this life. The
question is, are we aiming for the target as best as
we can discern it? Are we stretching ourselves
to love more deeply and widely? Are we
striving to live in our integrity? Are
we opening our heart more fully in understanding and in generosity? Are we stretching our self to develop our
talents? Are we working to shine our
light into the world? The more we
practice aiming at these targets, the closer we’ll come to them. But in some profound sense, our life will be
wasted if what we’re aiming for is to slide by with the minimum of effort, to
keep ourselves as safe and comfortable as possible, or to avoid risking doing
anything we might fail at.
And there’s one more aspect to sin that Jesus
alludes to when he teaches us to pray, “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive
our debtors,” which means, in proportion to our forgiveness of our
debtors. It’s the sin of unforgiveness,
the sin of judgment, the sin of self righteousness
that measures everyone by our standards, and that can easily spot the
speck in our neighbor’s eye but is blind to the log in our own eye. In case we missed Jesus’ message about the
link between being forgiving and being forgiven the first time, Jesus
immediately followed the Lord’s Prayer with this disturbing reminder: “For if
you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive
you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your
trespasses.” So our unforgiveness is something else we need to ask God’s
forgiveness for.
Debts. Trespasses. Sins. Self-righteous judgment.
Which did Jesus have in mind when he taught us to ask for God’s
forgiveness? Jesus used all four in this
prayer and in his teachings. This part
of the prayer challenges to become repentantly aware of all the ways we have
become separated from God, from each other, and from our highest nature as an
eternal spirit created in God’s own image.
Sin is the old-fashioned name for that separation, that estrangement, that leads to all our inner conflict, our
outer strife, and the haunting emptiness we feel when our lives have gone off
course.
Well now, hasn’t this has been fun? Here you came to church this beautiful Sunday
morning thinking that you’re a good, law-abiding citizen, at least an average
Christian, and a pretty decent church member.
And now I’ve gotten you thinking about all the ways you’re a
sinner.
Well, I’ve got one thing to say to you sinful people: Welcome to the human race. As Paul so thoughtfully pointed out to us, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Being a sinner doesn’t mean you’re a “bad person.” It just means that you’re a person. And being a sinner doesn’t mean you should live in shame about it. Did you hear that? No matter what you’ve heard the church tell you, Jesus never said or did anything that would suggest that he wanted sinners to live in shame. Shame
only locks us into our sin and separation. Jesus came to liberate us from our sin and
shame.
So how can we get liberated from sin and get
more fully connected to God, to each other, and to our God-created spiritual
nature?
As I’ve pondered this question recently, I’ve
gained a new insight into why Jesus kept telling us that when we get down on
our knees and ask for God’s forgiveness for our sins, we need to also forgive
others their sins. Jesus knew that you
can’t really separate the two. The thing
that keeps us from receiving forgiveness for ourself and from giving it to
another is spirit-strangling judgment.
When we have messed up, we keep going back over
the mistake we’ve made, berate ourselves for it, label ourselves as stupid,
bad, foolish, incompetent, or a failure, and feel ashamed of ourselves. This keeps us separate from God’s forgiving
grace and healing going to work in us, it separates us from other people
because we feel so unworthy, and it separates us from our higher nature because
our whole focus is on our weakness. If
sin is separation from God, others and ourselves, this judgment about our sin
keeps us locked into that sin.
When we apply this kind of judgment to someone
who has wronged us, we keep going back over the hurtful or thoughtless thing
they did to us, nurse our wound and our fantasies of them feeling as bad as
they’ve made us feel, and we label the person as uncaring, dishonest, callous,
or selfish, and blame them for how we feel.
Again, we’ve locked ourself in the sin of separation from God’s healing
grace for them and for us, of separation and estrangement from the person who
wronged us, and from our higher self.
What’s the answer to these prisons of
judgment? The heart of the good news
that Jesus gave us is that God sees us, not through eyes of judgment, but
through eyes of grace. And God invites
us to see ourselves and each other through these eyes too.
When the prodigal son came up the road in rags,
his father didn’t see a morally bankrupt failure. Through grace, he saw his beloved son coming
home again.
When Jesus felt the nails being driven into his
hands and feet by the Roman soldiers, he didn’t see those soldiers as
deplorable scumbags worthy of eternal punishment. Through grace, he saw them as men who didn’t
know what they were doing, and worthy of God’s forgiveness.
When in our blindness or anger we hurt somebody,
when in our selfishness we deceive somebody, when in our preoccupation we miss
the mark of God’s high calling for our lives, when in our arrogance we look down
on somebody, we don’t have to stay locked in a prison of self judgment. We can receive this grace too. We can confess our sins, and this very naming
of these things that separated us from God now opens the door to God’s boundless, forgiving love for
us. It reconnects us to our higher
spiritual self, the part that is sorry and wants the damage to be
repaired. And it empowers us to find a
way to seek reconciliation with those we have hurt. God’s grace frees us from our soul-strangling
judgment and heals our separation.
And when somebody in their blindness, anger,
selfishness, or arrogance hurts us, we don’t have to keep replaying the
feelings of pain, powerlessness, and righteous indignation over and over again,
or our futile fantasies of their hoped-for pain, as we poison our own body and
soul with roiling resentment. We can ask
for the grace to see the other person as we are and all humans are--sometimes
misguided, selfish, or blind and more preoccupied with meeting our own needs
than meeting other people’s. By grace,
maybe we can also see them as God sees them–God’s beloved child who is
struggling against their lower nature, inwardly suffering from their own
mistakes, and learning life’s lessons as they go. And by grace, maybe we can see ourselves as
Jesus sees us--not a powerless victim of anyone, but having the spiritual power
to do the amazing things he commanded his followers to do in Luke 6:27-36:
This is our high calling, our spirit’s goal, our
target we were created to aim for. And
it is possible to do these things, if we take the sins we have done and the
sins that have been done to us to God in prayer, come to see ourselves and each
other through God’s eyes, and become recipients and carriers of God’s amazing
grace.