Please Think about the occasion when Jesus and his twelve apostles shared the memorial bread and the fruit of the vine for the first time. The Master knew that one of those reclining there was a thief and would very soon betray him. Yet he shared the love feast with him. And later that night he greeted him with the words, “Friend, why have you come?”
At that table also was one who thought he was strong, but was so weak that he would shortly deny with cursing and swearing that he had ever known his Lord, his Master and his greatest friend. Yet Jesus insisted on getting down on the floor and washing his feet.
Also at that table were two ambitious young sons of thunder who were there at the meal because they wanted big places in the new Israeli regime which they expected king Jesus soon to organize. And he washed their feet, too.
The blood of the covenant
With them all he shared the emblems of his life and his love. As he passed around the cup of wine, he said to them all, “Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”
The forgiveness of sins? Did they really understand what he was saying? The chances are, not one in twelve had the remotest thought of forgiveness. For as they left, they took swords and it was not long before one was being used to attempt homicide. And in amazement, they watched the Lord replace the severed ear of the high priest’s slave who had been sent to arrest him.
A little later, one or two of them may have heard Jesus utter incredible words as brutal men nailed him to a tree: “Father, forgive them.”
Forgive them?
It is in the very nature of every one of us to nurse bitter feelings and show resentment to those who we believe hate us, and to wreak revenge. We feel justified in curdling and fomenting resentment and bitterness when we feel we have been wronged, or slandered, or, as we say in the Caribbean, maliced.
Jesus will have none of it. Instead, he says, “Bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.”
He told a simple story. “The kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. As he began the settlement, a man who owed him millions of dollars was brought to him [it wouldn’t be a gentle ‘bringing,’ would it?]. Since he was not able to pay [obviously not!], the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt [that would only cover a tiny fraction: all the rest would have to be forgiven!]. The servant fell on his knees before him. ‘Be patient with me,’ he begged, ‘and I will pay back everything’ [Everything? Ridiculous! An utter impossibility]. The servant’s master took pity on him, canceled the debt and let him go [amazing grace!]. But when that servant went out, he found [he obviously went looking for him] one of his fellow servants who owed him a few dollars. He grabbed him and began to choke him. ‘Pay back what you owe me!’ he demanded. His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back’ [probably it would not have taken him long to do so]. But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt [what good would that do? However could the debt be paid that way? And when we bar a child of God from the Lord’s table, isn’t that what we are doing?]. When the other servants saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed and went and told their master everything that had happened…In anger his master turned him over to the jailers to be tortured.”
The lesson of the little ones
Then comes the real hard lesson. “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart.” When we see how badly we need forgiveness ourselves, we will be filled with love and compassion for others. And when we realize how deeply we have hurt others, our own deep hurts will fade away.
The context of Jesus’ parable is illuminating, and sobering. It is concerned with his little ones who stray: “In the same way, your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should be lost.”
Visiting ecclesias in my own Caribbean region, and elsewhere, I have been appalled at the number of brothers, and especially sisters, who do not break bread, either by choice or at the ecclesia’s request. In the great majority of cases, it is because they are considered to be “unworthy.” Even more painful is it to hear brethren speak of those who feel too discouraged or too disheartened to take the communion that they have left the truth. Some ecclesias insist on “cleaning up” the Lord’s table and that its “purity” must be maintained. Then why did Jesus eat with thieving Judas, and cursing Peter, and doubting Thomas, and thundering James and John?
The cup of forgiveness
Why? Because the cup was a cup of forgiveness — yes, even for weak and wavering Simon Peter!
I tremble to have to say it, but some of our Caribbean elders have forgotten what we were taught by our pioneers. I recall in my younger days our late beloved Bro. Allan Barrow presiding at the Lord’s table in Georgetown. He displayed the same welcoming warmth that is clearly apparent in the demeanor of the Lord at the first Last Supper. Like Jesus, he spoke of love and joy and peace and humility and forgiveness. There were no dire warnings about certain damnation if we dared to stretch unworthy hands toward the loaf. With characteristic gestures, he invited us to share the wondrous feast.
Warnings about unworthy partaking have no place at the Table. The only appropriate warnings are those silently addressed to our own heart. In fact such warnings, heard so often nowadays, are actually a travesty of the truth. Paul tells us to examine ourselves and so eat, not to refrain.
To me, the saddest thing is that several of our Caribbean elders who may now deprive the unworthy of their only source of solace and forgiveness, were themselves freely forgiven similar indiscretions years ago by their elders, who were a lot more merciful. And they were usually spared the shame of public exposure. Let us remember Jesus’ warning: the measure you give is the measure you will get.
We cannot survive spiritually without partaking of the communion. That is so, simply because we all desperately need forgiveness and that is where we are reassured of it — at the Lord’s table. Otherwise we will die in our sins. Unless we are blatant hypocrites who love wickedness and have no guilty conscience at all, the only barrier to sharing the bread and wine with Christ and our brethren is if we have malice and have not forgiven others.
Seventy times seven
We are to forgive others 490 times (at least!) because the number of times God has forgiven us is far greater. It is amazing. God, the maker of the mind, will forgive and forget. As Ezekiel tells us, none of the offences we have committed “will be remembered.” Far too many of us carry to our graves that hard and unrelenting spirit that Jesus caricatured in his parable. The wicked servant enjoyed being hard. It bolstered his ego.
In 1994 the IRA blasted a beautiful Irish girl, Marie Wilson, into oblivion. Protestant para-militaries urged the father to join them in a revenge killing. He refused: “That will not bring her back. Christ tells me I must forgive, not retaliate.” He was scorned and threatened by many who called themselves holy Christians. But when Gordon Wilson continued to insist on unconditional forgiveness, the militia backed down and called off their planned attack.
Pan Thi Kim Phuc
The Vietnamese people have been surprisingly forgiving to the Americans after all the horrors of the Vietnam War. But few know one of the principal reasons why.
In 1972, John Plummer led a savage napalm raid on the Vietnamese village of Trang Bang. Unknown to him, someone took a photograph of a screaming naked girl, badly burned, fleeing the blazing inferno that had been her home. That picture was seen by tens of millions all over the world, and came to typify the Vietnam War. The girl was Pan Thi Kim Phuc.
For years after the war, that photograph tormented Plummer’s conscience. His marriage broke down, his health broke down. In 1996, he went to the unveiling of the Vietnam Veterans’ Memorial in Washington. To his astonishment, Kim Phuc was also there, and spoke at the ceremony. She said that like Jesus Christ she forgave those who knew not what they had done to herself, her land and her people. Plummer plunged through the crowd and begged for a chance to speak to Kim Phuc. They had two minutes together. All he could say was “I’m sorry.” She said, “Because I know God will forgive you, I forgive you too.” Then they prayed together.
Today Plummer is a busy pastor in Virginia, and he and Kim Phuc work together to reconcile their nations. If they can see and find what God’s forgiveness can do, surely we can.
“Lord,” said Peter, “how many times shall I forgive my brother?.” It is around this Table that we learn the answer.
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One