Lent Day 11 - Forgiveness Part 2

 I was a little shit when I was a kid. The thing is that most people didn’t know. My siblings knew, especially my sister. She was often the victim of my shenanigans. But, I had a reputation as a well-behaved lad. I never got in trouble at school. I rarely got in trouble at home. So, how can I say that I label myself with such a harsh moniker? First, I would do naughty things, but not get caught. I was good at being rotten behind the scenes. For example, I was very fast with the channel switching button when I watching something I wasn’t supposed to. I would always have the “last channel” ready to jump to something innocent the moment my mom would clomp into sight. Then I would watch MTV to my little heart’s delight. Or I stashed the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated or my brother’s surfing magazines where nobody found them. One of my favorite activities was to hide various places and jump out at my sister.  Bathroom closet, hall closet, hidden stairwell, under her bed. Second, on the times that I would get busted, I would take advantage of my reputation and lie my way out of trouble. There were so many times when I did something and get stone cold caught. But I made up some ridiculous explanation, which people would accept. One time my sister was sitting up in the hallway, reading her book all sweetly. I stuck up the stairwell and peeked over the edge to see her. Then I threw a handful of Goldfish crackers over the banister onto her lap, screaming “ROACHES!” as they flew. They landed on her, with the salt and tails feeling like insect legs. She jumped up screaming. Then she told on me. I should have gotten in so much trouble. Instead, I told my mom that I thought maybe Holly wanted some crackers. For some reason, she bought it, and I skipped off scot free.  In school one time, there was a kid nobody liked much. I sat next to him. Several kids came up with the idea that we should put a pin in his seat when he got up. I was tasked with this. I wasn’t a complete reprobate, so I put it on his seat, but far enough over that he wouldn’t actually sit on it. He saw it and told the teacher. She was angry, and tried to deal with who did it. The other kids sold me out. Yet I convinced the teacher that I thought the kid might have needed the pin to put his pages together. Nothing happened to me. See? A little shit. 

Why did I tell you that? You’ll see in a bit. 

As I mentioned last week, I figured that Sunday’s post would be spent dealing with the sermon. And today, that was exactly the case. Last week we tackled the difficult, brilliant story of the Prodigal Son. This week, we covered the story of Jesus and the Adulterous Woman. Quick David International Version rundown of the story. Jesus is there teaching a group of his followers. Minding his own business. Up comes a gaggle of religious leaders, dragging a woman with them. They toss her down in the dirt in front of Jesus. “We caught this ***** in the act of adultery! The Law says we are supposed to stone her. What do you think?” This is one of several times when Jesus was put into a classic Charybdis and Scylla situation by religious leadership. Sorry … my mythological background coming in again. Rock and a hard place. Catch-22. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. They knew that if Jesus was to say, “Yeah, go for it. Rock on, my homies,” that the people who had followed him would be horrified. It would go against all of things he had done to this point. But, if he was to say, “Naw my guy, let her go,” that he would have done the equivalent of high treason. He would have spoken against the Law of Moses, which was actually considered treason. They then would have the smoking gun needed to arrest and kill him. 

The truth was that the leaders were right. The Law did indeed call for capital punishment for anyone caught in adultery. They caught the woman in the act. Think about that. They caught her … in the act. So they walked in on her and someone else in the middle of sex. We could just hang out here on this detail for a week and a half. This was more than likely in the middle of the day, so this was a pretty brazen extramarital sexual encounter. Were these religious leaders wandering through town, peeking into windows and car backseats, hoping to find a couple in the throes of passion? Or did they happen upon The Notebook prequel being filmed? A young couple caught up in their burning passions in the donkey pen? More likely, in my thought, is that this was all a setup. There is enough subtext in the story that these weren’t just some random citizens who had their illicit hookup interrupted. I think that this woman was a … professional … of sorts. And that Sgt. Mustard’s Fun Busting Crew had gotten some fine gentlemen to book her services, and then the posse “caughtthem.” You know another reason that I think that? Where is the guy? As we know from the amazing theologians Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock, it takes two to make a thing go right. And the Law of Moses says anyone caught in adultery must be stoned - man or woman. Yet, where’s the beef…cake? I mean, this is a society with serious deficiencies in how they treat women. But this is extreme, even for them. Why isn’t the guy there? My theory is that it was one of their cadre, and he was chilling back at the homestead. Even still, if this was a courtroom drama, this would be a slam-dunk case they assigned to the overworked sweaty new addition to the district attorney’s office. The Law was clear. The woman was busted in flagrante delicto. Open. Shut. 

Jesus, as usual, doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he squats down and starts writing in the dirt. In fact, he does that two different times. Then he stands up and says, “Anyone who is without sin, fling the first rock type projectile.” And everyone leaves. I have heard so many different guesses as to what Jesus wrote in the dirt. Today, our pastor Dawn said she had read one suggestion that Jesus had drawn a line between everyone else and the woman, then erased it. That’s poetic and interesting. I’ve heard people say that he wrote the Ten Commandments. Others suggest that he started naming names, if you get my drift. He called out the people who were doing the same things. Maybe he wrote the name of the missing mystery man. I don’t know. It worked. The accusers all left. Then he told the woman she could leave, but she should stop doing naughty things.  

The story was presented to show us the need forgiveness, even when we have every right to go for blood. The accusers were right! That’s undeniable. The woman had done what she was accused of. The Law was clear. The stones should and could have been flying. But, Jesus demonstrated mercy and forgiveness even when there shouldn’t have been. I looked at this sermon as the sequel to last week’s Prodigal Son one. This was the father letting the younger son back into the house. The older brother had EVERY RIGHT to be pissed. The younger brother never should have been accepted home. The woman should have been stoned. And if WE were the older brother, if WE were the Puritan Parade … we would be holding our rock in our hand, waving our fists I the air, screaming at the un-fairness of it all. It isn’t fair. Forgiveness isn’t fair. Mercy isn’t fair. And that no good wasteful deviant brother of mine is going to get away with it!

You know that phrase? “They can’t get away with it…” That concept has spurred countless superheroes to action. The Punisher. Batman. John Wick. The Revengers. Liam Neeson in every movie. The human desire for justice is strong. That isn’t something taught by parents. I didn’t sit our kids down and explain, “Now, listen here youngsters, when someone wrongs you, you need to make sure justice is accomplished. Punch the person back. Trip them. The possibilities are endless. Let your mind go wild.” That is just something ingrained in humans. One of my favorite stories from when the kids were young demonstrates this. Our oldest child had a hard time keeping his hands to himself when he was young. We were well aware of this thanks to the many many many many times that a teacher would tell us. He and our daughter were sitting in the kiddie seat of the grocery cart. He kept poking at her; she kept whining. I finally told him, “If you don’t stop messing with her, she’s going to hit you. And I’m not going to punish her for it.” Not even five minutes later, I heard a loud THWACK as I was looking at the shelf. I looked around and my son was rubbing his chest while my daughter scowled. Sure enough, she had punched him right tin the sternum. “Told you, bud. Frontier justice.” I loved my daughter’s willingness to stand up for herself. JUSTICE! ChestPuncher’s origin story right there. We love revenge stories. We love seeing the bad guy get their due. How unsatisfying is it for a movie to end with the bad guy safely escaping? I mean, sure, we will get a sequel that way. But we want to see Scar thrown into a raging inferno, Jafar stuffed into a lamp, Ursula get skewered, Lord Farquaad eaten by a dragon… You do realize I’m naming kids’ movies, right? From the beginning, we don’t want people to get away with it. JUSTICE! 

And now not only are these people going to get away with it, but WE are the ones letting them get away. We have the rock ready to hurl, and we let them go. But but but.  What if they pull a Private Saving Ryan and come back to stab us after we let them go? (Ryan’s Saving Privates? Ryan’s Private Savings?) They’ll never learn! They’re just going to hurt us again! This isn’t fair. I have yelled that so many times in my life. When my siblings would get away with something. When classmates cheated on tests and never were busted. When co-workers who didn’t follow the rules got promoted. When maniac drivers whipped through traffic and didn’t get pulled over. I did it right, dammit. Splutter sputter grumble. 

Except…

Remember that first paragraph? Foreshadowing…. There’s a line in The Lord’s Prayer that says “forgive us our debts(trespasses) as we forgive our debtors (those who trespass against us).” That’s the rub, isn’t it? For every time that we get our panties in a bunch because some miscreant got away with something, there is that time we got away with something as bad or worse. I may be sitting there angry that my sister didn’t get in trouble for some offense against me, but she was sitting there in her room angry that I didn’t get in trouble for throwing roach Goldfish at her. None of us are innocent. Yes, that coworker may flout every work standard, but there have been shifts when I phoned things in. That dirtbag whipped through traffic today, but I will do it when I’m running late tomorrow. I hate it when someone is on their phone while they are driving, and they make me look up from my Twitter feed to not hit them.  I’m kidding … I don’t use Twitter. 

This is the problem, though. I can accept this conceptually. That doesn’t help when I’m ranting and wanting to throw that rock. And so many times I want to throw that blasted rock. 
For a person who spent a good portion of his life avoiding the trouble he should have gotten into, I have a very strong sense of justice. I can stoke the fire of my righteous anger quite high when I get going. (A bunch of you are nodding your head vigorously.) I have actually had friends who would intentionally needle me just to get me going. (Nathan Bryant … looking in your direction.) As I move along in my journey, I find that the groups I get up in arms about have shifted. However, the fire hasn’t cooled. Which means my willingness to forgive has actually gone down. The villains in my world have heard sooooo many people, so deeply, so insidiously, so callously. They don’t deserve my mercy or my forgiveness. I’m just now getting my feet under me to start fighting again. The last thing I want to do is to lay my rocks down. I want to rip, shred, tear, burn, destroy. And THAT is precisely the problem. If I go into the next phase of my life, if I try to do what I feel like I’m being directed to do, if I head into that with guns and rocks blazing, it will not work. If I’m going into this out of revenge, it won’t work. If I go into this for MYSELF, it won’t work. I say that I want to make my life look as much like Jesus as possible. He forgave. He loved. He was about dropping rocks, not throwing them. Being fully honest (you know how much I love that phrase), I’m not there yet. And there is a loud part of me that doesn’t WANT to get there. Who is going to make sure all of those people don’t get away with it - whatever it is? But what am I going to be about throwing rocks? Or building bridges? Which will lead me into tomorrow’s post…