Pentecost Sunday - Homily 4

Homily 4 - 2019 

As the crucified Jesus went into his agonising death, the disciples had abandoned him, and Peter had even denied knowing him. How must Jesus have felt? He was “completely like us in every way”, after all. And here he was, risen, coming especially to connect with them; and his first words were “Peace be with you”. He had obviously forgiven them. But at what a price? I suspect that Jesus’ struggle to forgive had meant his having to draw on the deepest resources of his humanity – indeed, as the Letter to the Hebrews put it, to “become perfect through suffering”.

It is impossible to love without learning also to forgive. And if we do not love, we cannot truly be happy. That is a pretty stark choice! It may explain why there is so much restlessness, such deep divisions and polarisation within society, even within the church. I shudder whenever the TV News reports some tragic murder, and the reporter asks the grieving family how they feel, and so often the response comes, “The monster should rot in prison”, or “rot in hell!” And yet, remember Rosie Batty, the mother who forgave the husband who had killed their only child. We made her Australian of the Year. Deep within, apparently, we seem to admire the strength of soul of the person who can forgive the seemingly unforgiveable.

To forgive can be extremely difficult – as we all know. It can seem like surrendering all sense of personal dignity, and letting ourselves be treated like doormats, expecting that we leave ourselves open to be abused again some time in the future. It can also seem like betraying the love and respect we have for another we love whose dignity has been violated.

We often confuse the meaning of forgiveness in other ways, too. So often we hear, “Forget it!” “Get over it!” “Let bygones be bygones!” To do that is only to avoid the hard work of forgiving. Excuse, by all means, what can or needs to be excused. Excusing and forgiving are not the same thing – forgiveness deals precisely with the inexcusable. But while forgiving has its price, so, too, does withholding forgiveness. Withholding forgiveness breeds resentment and bitterness. If these are not dealt with adequately, they become poisonous – psychologically and even physically. This is true not just for us as individuals, but for the community and society in general, leading to floating anger, lack of cooperation, discontent and various levels of depression.

Yet, important as it is, defining forgiveness is difficult. What does it involve? I think Jesus’ greeting to the disciples in today’s Gospel is enlightening. He wished them “Peace”. Does that capture the essence of forgiveness? If it doesn’t, it goes very close to doing so. It would need to be honestly meant – but is certainly worth thinking about.

Jesus went on to say, “As the Father sent me, so am I sending you.” Was Jesus sending the disciples to preach the message of “peace”, not just in words [that is no big deal] but essentially in deeds? Is that fundamentally the mission of the Church – to be lived out by you and me? Not surprisingly, Jesus went on to say explicitly, “For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven …” – effectively connecting the wishing of peace with the commitment to forgiving.

In today’s climate, it is better that the Church not preach anything. We have lost credibility. To preach forgiveness can only be heard as a ploy of defensiveness. But what we can do is to live the message of peace – especially with those who criticise us and thereby shame and hurt us. We can respect them, listen to them, take seriously what they say, and in our hearts genuinely wish them peace. It might be difficult. Perhaps that is why the newly risen Jesus gifted the Church with the “Holy Spirit”, the efficacious outpouring of the joyfully creative love of Father and Son.