Forgiveness: A Case Study

 

Jesu Juva

Gen. 50:15-21; John 19:30ff                                    

September 17, 2023

Proper 19A                                            

 Dear Saints of Our Savior~

          Today we heard the end of Genesis—the last chapter of the first book of the Bible—Genesis chapter fifty.  A lot transpires over those fifty chapters.  For a book that begins with no sin and no need for forgiveness, Genesis ends with the focus squarely on sin and forgiveness—namely, on Joseph’s forgiveness of his brothers’ sins against him.

          On this particular Sunday, more than most, everything centers on forgiveness.  However, the emphasis seems to fall most heavily—not on the forgiveness you receive for your sins, but on the forgiveness you extend to those who sin against you.  This day accents how we treat those who trespass against us.

          In today’s Holy Gospel Peter expressed a very human understanding of forgiveness for others—there’s got to be a limit!  Lord, how many times do I have to forgive my brother when he sins against me?  Seems like a legit question, right?  I mean, there has to be a limit, doesn’t there?  At some point, enough is enough.  The rabbis of Jesus’ day would have said three times was plenty.  Peter suggested seven times, which has a nice ring to it.  Once a day, every day, for one week.  That should do it, for sure.

          But forgiveness that has limits is not real forgiveness.  Forgiveness, according to Jesus has no limits, no exclusions, no asterisks with fine print at the bottom of the page.  I tell you, not seven times, but seventy times seven, says the Savior.  And the point is not 490 times.  The point is that forgiveness doesn’t keep score.  Forgiveness keeps no record of wrongs.

          Joseph’s brothers had certainly kept a record of their wrongs.  Their guilty consciences couldn’t quite believe that Joseph had forgiven them.  After all, Joseph’s jealous brothers had conspired to murder him.  But in the end they decided it was better to make a buck by selling Joseph into slavery than to shed his blood.  These sly siblings had gone so far as to tell their dear ol’ dad that his favorite son was dead—shredded and slain by a vicious animal.  With brothers like these, who needs enemies? 

          If you know the story of Joseph, then you know how Joseph’s life was led by the Lord.  You know the happy ending of how Joseph saved his entire family from famine—and how he forgave the sins of his big brothers.  But Joseph’s brothers doubted that forgiveness.  They assumed that Joseph’s forgiveness had an expiration date.  It sounded too good to be true. 

          So when their father, Jacob, died, all bets were off.  Joseph’s brothers became filled with dread.  They thought that their father’s death signaled their doom.  Now, they figured, Joseph could get back at them without hurting their father in the process:  It may be that Joseph will hate us and pay us back for all the evil that we did to him.  Now they would surely get what they knew they deserved.

          It’s hard not to feel some sympathy for Joseph’s brothers.  In fact, if we’re honest, we can identify with them.  We share their guilt.  We share their shame.  We share their sin.  Our jealousy and hatred of others is not so different from theirs—if only perhaps more carefully concealed.  We all have enemies we would gladly get rid of, especially if we could make a buck in the process.  And we too know the pain of a prickly conscience—a conscience that relentlessly reminds us of our sin, and makes our hearts heavy with fear and guilt and shame.

          Joseph’s troubled brothers decided to take action.  They manufactured a message from beyond the grave—a dying wish from their deceased father that Joseph would forgive his brothers all their sin and evil.  And for good measure Joseph’s brothers all fell down on their knees and declared, “Behold, we are your servants.”  And with those words we can see just how their understanding of forgiveness was flawed. 

          With those words—We are your servants—the brothers were trying to bargain, hoping to cut a deal, aiming to engineer a great escape from the punishment they deserved.  We do it all the time.  We vow to make things right and work our way back into the good graces of those we have sinned against.  We promise to do better and to pay off our debt.  Like the prodigal son who, on his way home, planned to ask his father to take him back as a “hired hand” (Lk 15:19), so we think we can clean up our own mess and earn our forgiveness.

          But Joseph would have none of it.  Learn from Joseph to recognize the

sacred source of all forgiveness:  “Am I in the place of God?” he asks.  Joseph’s full and free forgiveness of his brothers was of divine origin.  If it is God’s desire and delight to forgive sins, then who was Joseph to withhold forgiveness?  By faith Joseph saw what his guilty brothers could not see:  You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.  What Joseph’s brothers intended for evil, God used for good—that many lives should be saved.

          Can you believe this?  Can you comprehend the wonder of Joseph’s words?  Do you dare to believe the golden good news by which Joseph absolves his brothers?  Can it be that all the evil that gets thrown against us, from friend and foe alike—that God will take it up into his own hands and somehow redirect it for good?  Can you see what Joseph saw—that behind the despicable sins his brothers committed against him—God himself was at work for good?

          That good news is never so plainly depicted as it is on that dark Friday afternoon we call “good.”  On that day the good that God intended transcended the evil of man.  Look to the crucifixion cross of our Lord and you will see it plainly. Men intended that cross for evil.  They wanted to kill the Son of God—get rid of Him for good, silence Him, destroy Him.  They lied.  They gave false testimony.  They perverted justice to engineer the execution of the Son of God.  It was evil upon evil—evil to the “Nth” degree—bloody, blasphemous evil.  But God used it all for good—for your good—to save you and a world full of sinners, and to open the kingdom of heaven to you and all believers.

          It is finished.  Every sin ever committed against you is atoned for in the death of Jesus.  Every sin you have ever committed against another person is atoned for in the death of Jesus.  It is finished.  In Christ God was reconciling the whole world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them (2 Cor 5:19a).  In Christ God was working all things for your eternal good.  Sin and evil do not get the last word where you are concerned.  Jesus does.  And our Lord’s last word is the best of news:  It is finished.

          Believe it and receive it.  Don’t let a guilty conscience deceive you into doubting God’s full and free forgiveness.  Who are we to deny the forgiveness our Lord won for us on the cross?  Are we in the place of God?  No, but God in Christ has taken our place, and borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. And the forgiveness He earns and extends to us is the defining feature of the faith we confess. 

          The book of Genesis concludes with a tender and moving scene.  It’s Joseph’s last interaction with his forgiven brothers.  It’s a case study in forgiveness. Joseph, his eyes wet with tears, gives his beloved brothers the comfort they craved:  “So do not fear; I will provide for you and your little ones.”  Thus he comforted them and spoke kindly to them.  Joseph demonstrated in both words and actions his ongoing love and affection for his family.  Joseph wanted to remove all doubts his brothers may have harbored about his forgiveness. 

          The Lord Jesus does the same for you.  Today in the church the Lord Jesus not only forgives our sins, but demonstrates that forgiveness with clarity and comfort, with ongoing love and affection.  Jesus removes all doubt.  Every sin committed against you (and by you) is atoned for in the death of Jesus.  When you look at that person who has sinned against you—cheated you, cheated on you, hurt, harmed and abused you—see that person as one for whom Christ died.  Does he or she know that?  Will he or she know that from you?  Certainly not if you’ve got your hands clenched around his throat.  Certainly not if you regularly remind him of what a terrible person he is—or shun him as if he doesn’t exist.  But he or she may yet come to know the mighty power of God’s love for sinners with your hand on his shoulder and by your speaking the three most powerful words in the English language:  I forgive you.

          You leave here today like Joseph’s brothers—forgiven, assured, comforted.  The score against you has been settled by the blood our Savior shed.  In His name and with His own words we will continue to pray this petition until our Savior comes again:  Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.