Fr. James Callan
September 13, 2020
Matthew 18: 21-35
When I was about seven years old I broke my mother’s expensive, beautiful teapot. It was a heirloom in the family, a wedding gift that she had treasured for years and in a rare moment of anger my mother exiled me to the laundry room in the basement as punishment. About 45 minutes later she came down. She sat on a load of laundry and she said, “Jimmy, today is Good Friday and I have been thinking if God forgives me I have to forgive others. So I forgive you and I am sorry for getting upset about the teapot.”
I remember two things about that moment. One, how good it felt to not have my mother mad at me anymore because it was so rare. Two, the lesson. God forgives us, we must forgive one another. And that’s the story that Jesus tells today. God forgives us so we must forgive one another.
There is a servant who owes the King $100,000. He falls to his knees and says: Be patient and I’ll pay it back. Moved with pity the King cancelled the entire debt. And that same forgiven servant meets a companion who owes only $10 and he seizes him and chokes him and says, “Pay back what you owe!” The companion falls to his knees and says, “Be patient. I’ll pay it back.” But the servant won’t forgive him and puts him in prison.
This parable is called: The Story of the Heartless Servant. It demands that we look at what we are doing to each other. Even though God forgives us, we often don’t give others any breathing space. We choke off the life of people.
Notice the language in this story: He seized him and choked him. Does that sound familiar? Police seized George Floyd, knelt on his neck and choked him until he died. Police seized Daniel Prude. Knelt on his naked body and choked him until he died.
“I can’t breathe!” is the language of the last 400 years. Blacks couldn’t breathe on the slave ships or under Jim Crowe. Or even on March 23rd on Jefferson Avenue in Rochester. Daniel Prude died of asphyxiation as police chatted, joked and appeared indifferent.
Jesus says the people who saw this were deeply disturbed and they went to report the entire matter. They refused to let this injustice go unnoticed.
For too long black people have suffered alone and in silence. Since George Floyd and Daniel Prude and Breonna Taylor, people are deeply disturbed and are reporting the whole matter.
Reverend Myra, Christine Walker and many of our parishioners have demonstrated every night. We opened our church doors when the police were shooting at people with rubber bullets. Late at night they made our church a sanctuary. A safe haven where we gave medical treatment. They also found creative ways to deescalate the violence so people’s anger and grief and outrage could be voiced and heard. And yesterday, Reverend Myra gave a racial justice training for 16 politicians, judges and candidates. At the end of the four hours they asked for another session.
Last Thursday night some of you watched the NFL game as I did. And as you know they put Black Lives Matter signs at the end zones. They put the names of black victims like Breonna Taylor on the back of their helmets. They knelt down and sang Lift Every Voice and Sing, the African American national anthem. They made their protest public. Like Jesus says, “They were deeply disturbed and reported the whole matter.”
As you know our church runs Spiritus Christi Mental Health Center. Defunding the police has a lot of definitions. But it spot lights the need for police to utilize mental health professionals. The movement maintains that money for law enforcement needs to be shifted to mental health treatment and education. Because of racism, people of color like Daniel Prude are more likely to get arrested or killed instead of receiving proper mental health treatment.
The police culture, very much like the clerical culture in the church, needs over hauling. In both institutions saving face is often more important than saving lives. Protecting each other is often more important than protecting the people.
One very hopeful sign is a new program being used in New Orleans, Arlington, Texas and Ashville, North Carolina. It is called Ethical Policing is Courageous (EPIC). It gives officers the skills they need to intervene before problems escalate. And it allows other officers, even junior officers, to stop wrongful practices. So for example, if an officer is stressed out in handling a person who is resisting arrest and starts choking or kicking the person, the other officer yells, “EPIC” and he takes over the situation. Gets the first guy out of there and he takes over. And you can shout EPIC even if you are a junior officer. Police officers, like church officials, are known for their loyalty to one another. But with EPIC, loyalty doesn’t mean protecting a fellow officer after they have done harm. Loyalty means preventing them from doing harm to begin with.
Last week we marked the 75th anniversary of the end of World War II. Recently, what has come to light is the story of the GI Bill of Rights. Maybe some of you have received the GI Bill of Rights. It was signed by Franklin Roosevelt in 1944 and promised World War II soldiers free education and job benefits after the war was ended. Last week we were at Holy Sepulcher Cemetery and we buried Steve Heverin Smith’s father, John Smith. I was telling a story about John and I said that he used his GI Bill to go to the University of Massachusetts to get a degree in agriculture and he became a very successful businessman. But as I was saying that, next to me was Reverend Myra. We were leading the service together and I was wondering, I didn’t ask her, if she was thinking the same thing I was. That black soldiers were given the same promise as white soldiers. NAACP and other civil rights groups encouraged blacks to enlist in the service so that they could get the benefits after the war was over. But there was a loophole in the Bill. It deferred to state and local authorities and because of racism at the local level black veterans were denied access to colleges. Instead they were diverted to vocational programs. If they did go to college, they went to historically black colleges, which were usually underfunded with limited resources. Again the white culture didn’t give blacks any breathing room. It choked off the opportunities to advance with education and good jobs. The white culture has had its knee on the necks of black people for centuries.
And who suffers? Not just black people. We white people suffer also. It takes a lot of effort to deprive black people of room to breathe. It takes a lot of police; it takes a lot of jails to control black people. Plus it dehumanizes the white people as well as the black people.
The man in Jesus’ story who choked his companion – how did he end up? He ended up tortured and imprisoned himself. That’s what happens when we act in an unjust ways. White people feel guilty, we feel ashamed, we feel embarrassed, defensive, we are in denial, and we don’t want to talk about it. And black people feel wounded, sad, angry, fearful, weary, discouraged and often imprisoned or dead. Both white people and black people are injured by racism. We can’t heal our wounds by inflicting pain on others. We need to arrive at some common ground and healing.
Two days ago we marked the anniversary of 9-11. Rabbi Irwin Kula in the months following 9-11 did a study. He sought out the last words of those who died on that tragic day. He went around and found out what people said, their last words. The Rabbi said, “You know what I discovered? Not a single person said, ‘Kill them, revenge their death, or get them back.’ No, overwhelmingly the last words of those killed in 9-11 were about love.” Tell Mom and Dad I love them. Tell the kids that I’ll miss them and I love them forever. “Julie, we are in a terrible spot here but know that I love you.” Words of love. Just like Jesus, his last words on the cross were words of love.
Years ago when I was at Corpus Christi I met a black minister, Andre Shaw; he ran a store front church in the Corpus Christi neighborhood. One day he said to me, “Our little church is growing and we don’t have enough room. I wonder if we could use Corpus Christi?” I said sure but we had an 11:00 mass and we didn’t get done until about 12:30. I thought it was kind of late. But he said that that would be about the time we start and that it would be perfect. So their church used our church for a long, long time. One January I asked Pastor Shaw to give the homily at the Martin Luther King Day. During his homily Pastor Shaw surprised us. Here is what he said: I want to ask all of you white people here to please forgive all the harm we black people have done to you. I was stunned. I was shocked. As a matter of fact I got out of my seat and I came up to the pulpit with him. And I said that I wanted to ask all the black people here to forgive us white people for the harm we have done to you. We have done far more harm to you than you have done to us. The two of us embraced, people were on their feet, the applause lasted forever. There wasn’t a dry eye.
Where would be we without forgiveness? Where would our marriages be without forgiveness? Where would our families be without forgiveness? Where would Rochester be without forgiveness? Where would the world be without forgiveness? It would be a world of darkness and despair.
Fortunately we have God’s unconditional forgiveness. God forgives us seventy times seven and just asks us to pass it along to others.
Last Thursday was the anniversary of my mother’s death. I just want to say, “Mom, you got it right on the teapot. Thanks for your lesson in forgiveness.”
0 Comments