40 Graces for Forgiveness - A Healing Journey

  The last time they ate a meal together before he went to the cross, Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. More than unexpected or unusual, this act of service turned on its head the established order: servants washed their masters’ feet; the master did not wash the servants’. Jesus did this to impress upon his disciples (then and now) that as he did for them they were to do for others. Only recently did a very significant, yet textually unremarked-upon, detail jump out at me: Jesus washed Judas’s feet, too. And the scripture says that Jesus already knew it was Judas who would betray him. Jesus  washed the stinking, filthy feet  of the man who would send him to his undeserved death just a few hours hence. I don’t care to serve anyone who doesn’t treat me properly, or whom I feel is less deserving of respect than I am. Right now signs are pointing to the possibility that I will soon find myself under the management of someone who I find prideful and inexperienced. The idea of...

  Jesus was hungry. He saw a leafy fig tree in the distance. He went to get himself a nosh, but the tree had no fruit on it. So he cursed it, that it would never produce again. Yikes. I have  h-anger issues  myself, but that’s taking it to a whole ’nother level, Jesus. The Bible doesn’t waste any words—there are no throwaway narratives. So… might this account suggest that there are cases when Jesus won’t forgive? Keeping in mind that I am not a trained theologian, I will now explore this question a bit. Scriptures tell us that not everyone will get into heaven: There’s  the separating of the sheep and the goats ; and  those who were part of the kingdom, but then turn away ; as well as  the sexually immoral and the coveter  (isn’t that an interesting pairing?). If we ever thought that Jesus is too good and kind and loving to turn anyone away at the gates, I guess we need to think again. He is good and he is kind and he is loving—and he makes it very cle...

  I didn’t appreciate till I just looked at the scriptures about the Triumphal Entry how much Jesus did in those last days before his death. He turned over the temple moneychangers’ tables, told parable after parable, fielded loaded questions from religious leaders until they gave up trying to trap him, and foretold the signs of the end times. The account feels like a car chase scene in a movie, where you wish things would slow down so you can catch your breath. But you know what? People were still calling Jesus a prophet. He was not a prophet. He was  the   prophesied . What happened between the Triumphal Entry—when people cheered and waved palm branches and cried, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”—and days later when those same people demanded that Barabbas, a murderer, be granted freedom (i.e.,  forgiven ) while Jesus be crucified? I think Christ didn’t fulfill their expectations. The Hebrews looked for a conqueror to come and rout the Romans, to ...

  Some commentators point to the raising of Lazarus as the turning point which led to Christ’s crucifixion, because it was after this miracle that the religious leaders ramped up their plans to murder Jesus. Jesus’s ability to resurrect a dead man prompted Caiaphas, the chief priest, to declare of Jesus (prophetically, no less) “‘it is better [that] ... one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish,’ and not for the nation only, but also to gather into one the children of God who are scattered abroad” (Luke 11:50-52). Caiaphas had an entirely twisted perspective on how this individual sacrifice for the benefit of the world would play out: in fact, the resurrection the priests hated (of Lazarus) led to the death they applauded (Jesus’s) and in turn to the resurrection they denied (of Jesus) which led to the ultimate fulfillment of Caiaphas’s prediction (the salvation of the nations). God is the master of poetic irony, isn’t he? God misses ...

  I am so ridiculously happy to be finished with the last ten days of looking at how damaged, depraved, and dysfunctional I am. As we move into these last ten days of meditation on forgiveness, I want to draw my attention back to Jesus, and specifically to his last week on earth as he approached Jerusalem and the cross. His death and resurrection are  the  pivotal event in all of history, so this is no light and airy subject. But as with everything, what Satan intends for destruction God transfigures into deliverance. Let’s start this last quarter with discipleship, as observed through Christ’s disciples. Disciples are simply followers, those who walk with a master and learn to emulate him or her. Jesus had twelve disciples during his time on earth, but all of us who claim Christ as our savior now are equally his disciples. The scripture for today describes the aftermath of Jesus’s baptism, when God audibly declared Jesus his beloved Son. The text says that the disciples ...

  The other day I made up a silly little song and sang it to my nine-year-old: “She’s my daughter! She’s my daughter! So glad we bought her, ‘cause she’s my daughter!” She scowled and said, “I knew somebody was adopted. But I thought it was Anna.” I wonder if anyone who hasn’t experienced adoption can really grasp what it means to be orphaned, to live severed from any connection to kinship, and then to be welcomed into a family and granted full rights as a child within it. I know I can’t wrap my head around that. But when I look at it from the other side—from the perspective of the one doing the adopting—it’s even harder to make sense of. When parents adopt a child, they typically don’t know that much about the kiddo. From what kind of lineage does s/he come? What character and physical and medical traits accompany that lineage? What sort of personality will the child develop? What might s/he be when grown up? All of this is a mystery. When God adopts us, of course, he knows all of...

  I just learned something kind of fascinating when I was looking for today’s Scripture reference. The Bible translation I’m using has “abandon” in it 33 times. Six times it assures us that God will not abandon those who love him. The other 27 refer to people abandoning things: the Lord, the land, the law, other people, cities, highways, covenants, counsel, tents, horses, donkeys, camps, commandments, the poor. When I chose abandonment for this study, I planned to talk about the experience of feeling abandoned, and my need to forgive because of it. Instead, my scan of the Scriptures has led me to the epiphany that people are simply prolific abandoners. Me included. What have I abandoned? I’ve abandoned hope, faith, and love. I’ve abandoned people, places, and responsibilities. I’ve abandoned determination, ethics, and even honesty. I’ve abandoned honor for expediency, truth in favor of intrigue, the long run so I could grab at some fleeting pleasure. Conversely, I have held onto lo...

  High school was really easy for me. Too easy. I could do my homework for second period in first period, for third period in second period… you get the idea. Ten minutes of work usually got me a B, whereas I knew it would take more like an hour to score an A. It seemed like an efficient use of time to just take the B. I was deep into college before I discovered the many benefits of working to one’s potential. Now I have children of my own, and two of them are rather like me, and I want to beat my forehead against the nearest brick wall because, “Why are you content to settle for such substandard performance when you’re so much more capable than this!?!” The parents’ curse (“I hope you have a kid just like you someday!”) really works. Utter it with caution. I think my acceptance of academic mediocrity grew from the habit of comparing myself to others. It wasn’t so hard to outscore a lot of the other kids, and the ones I’d really have to work to compete against were pretty hardcore....

  One of my dearest friends, who adores animals, always says, “Everything needs to be loved,” as she ruffles up the facial whiskers of any furry creature who will allow it. Those words are so much more profound than they sound in her puckery little baby voice. Considering my aversion to social activities, my distrust of anyone I haven’t met (as well as a few that I have), and my ongoing affair with self-sufficiency, it’s kind of surprising—or maybe not surprising at all—that I also struggle with love-starvation. It’s never enough. There’s no amount of attention, praise, adulation, romance, validation, or camaraderie in the world that could satisfy me. Here’s another ugly story about myself. Some years ago a friend of mine gave the message at church on Sunday morning. I could barely pay attention to her words, I was so eaten up with jealousy. I knew it was wrong to feel like that, and I hated to even admit my angst, but I told the hubs about it when we got home. “I’m older than she ...