Sermon on Forgiveness

My sermon from today's liturgy...

Seventeen years ago, in the spring of 1994, a brutal civil war broke out in the East African nation of Rwanda. Pitting the ethnic tribes of the Tutsis and Hutus against one another, the brutal, devastating conflict led to over one million deaths in the space of just three months. In the wake of the disaster there was much recrimination and countless calls for revenge and getting even from both sides. However, in the midst of it all, powerful, transformative stories of forgiveness also started to emerge and served as an opening for healing and hope.

One such story is that of a Tutsi woman named Imaculée Ilibagiza. Just a young woman at the time of the outbreak of the violence, Imaculée was awakened by her brother one morning and told she had to flea immediately in fear of her life. The mass killings were already beginning and her only hope lay with a Hutu pastor who offered to hide her and a few companions in the shower stall of his bathroom. Trusting that he would not betray them, Imaculée and the other women huddled together in the bathroom for several hours as a band of Hutus passed by and searched the house.

Surviving that initial brush with death, Imaculée endured another 91 days of waiting and praying – reciting the words of the Lords’ Prayer over and over but always stumbling over the words “forgive us our trespasses…” These were words she could not yet bring herself to speak, and yet while she was still in the bathroom Imaculée had an epiphany. As she put it, “You being mad at them, you getting angry, wanting to do what they’re doing—doesn’t change a thing…Something was so clear in that moment, that told me…everyone has a chance…there is a chance that this person can see the truth. That allowed me to let go of that anger.”

Through the gift she received of being able to let go of her anger and desire for revenge, Imaculée reached out in friendship and reconciliation to members of the Hutu tribe, including one woman interviewed for the program I saw who spoke of what it meant to her to hear Imaculée’s words… “At the beginning I didn’t believe her, that she was really sincere…but after a few days I saw her love for God…and her faith in forgiveness touched my heart…and I believed she really wanted to be a friend.”

Hutus and Tutsis, death and genocide, revenge and animosity. These were some of the realities facing the people of Rwanda in the aftermath of unspeakable brutality and yet stories like those of Imaculée and her friend were there too – as a light shining in the darkness of a terrible tragedy – as a balm for the deep spiritual wounds that both peoples suffered. In a word, stories like Imaculée’s were and are seeds of the gospel…points of light and hope rooted in compassion, reconciliation, and forgiveness.

Jesus himself speaks today to the transformative power of forgiveness. In our gospel he tells Peter and the other disciples that what they bind, what they refuse to let go of, will remain so…and that what they loose, what they release and let go of, will be set free. This power, this remarkable force, as Jesus tells us, is nothing less than the key to the kingdom. The key to open up the kingdom of God and to allow God’s reign of justice and abundant peace to break forth is fundamentally tied to nothing less than our ability as human beings to forgive—to let go of our resentments, bitterness, and anger and to let God heal us and those who have harmed or wronged us.

This is certainly not an easy process and sometimes seeking justice and speaking the truth of what happened is a necessary part of it. But above all I think the heart of the matter comes in learning, as Imaculée did in her own story, that vengeance accomplishes nothing and that there is always a chance that others will see the truth and that healing, forgiveness, and even friendship can come as a result.

In the end, the remarkable thing is that keys of the kingdom don’t belong especially to any church leader or spiritual figure or religious authority. In truth, they belong to all of us and they work not by any superhuman strength or effort on our part. No, the way to turn the key and to unlock the kingdom of God’s goodness, mercy and peace is right inside all of us. All we have to do is let go and let God – let go of our desire to mete out justice on our own terms and let God move through us, bringing healing, hope and transformation to ourselves and to our world.