Grace and the Bottom Line

Grace and the Bottom Line--September 6, 2016

"Every seventh year you shall grant a remission of debts. And this is the manner of the remission: every creditor shall remind the claim that is held against a neighbor, not exacting it of a neighbor who is a member of the community, because the LORD's remission has been proclaimed." [Deuteronomy 15:1-2]

You know, for people who can sometimes get very fussy about "taking the Bible seriously" and "insisting on Biblical authority" on real-life issues, Christians can sometimes be very... hmmm, what's the word... wishy-washy about what we "take seriously." Maybe that's putting it nicely--maybe we have "selective reading."  Maybe we are hypocrites.  Maybe we just haven't read our Bibles. 

Or sometimes, our problem is that we think that Bible only offers "spiritual" advice and "inspirational" pick-me-ups.  We can end up thinking that when the Bible talks about forgiveness, it is mostly there to help us let go of grudges for the sake of our emotional health, and that forgiveness just about feeling better and making up with your friends.  And when that happens, we regard forgiveness as rather like taking vitamins: something that may be good for us, but certainly not something life-or-death if you forget it from time to time, and much more an option or a suggestion than a way of life. 

Or we hear the Bible's talk about "starting over" and "new beginnings" and make it just sort of a self-help book's lukewarm, "let's try again tomorrow" advice, rather than something real and solid and daring. 

So we religious folk--who often like to bellyache about people not listening hard enough to the Bible--end up watering down the strong brew of the what-the-Bible-actually-says into a weak tea of vaguely encouraging, minimally inspirational slogans, like "Don't hold grudges" and "Tomorrow's another day."  We are aching for so much more newness, so much more real mercy, but we have taken the bold colors and big letters of the actual teachings and practices of the Bible on forgiveness and new beginnings and made them pastel-tinted friendly decorative notes with curlicue cursive writing in dainty narrow type.  No wonder that isn't enough to get us through the day, or through our lives.  And no wonder so much of the watching world takes a look at us religious folk and says, "You are so out of touch with the actual lives of people whose families are ripped apart by estrangement, or whose futures are trapped in endless cycles of debt and poverty."  If all we have to say to them is some vague self-help advice like, "Try again tomorrow--it's a fresh start!" while nothing else is changed, well, no wonder folks are not interested in listening to our invitations to church.

But the problem here, it turns out, is not the Bible being lukewarm or vague--it's that we have either stopped reading or stopped thinking about what the Bible has been saying all along.  Because when the Biblical writers think about "forgiveness," they are not merely thinking of "overlooking the time some long-lost friend from high school forgot to wish you a happy birthday on Facebook." They are thinking of forgiveness as a radical, costly action that sets people free, cancels debts, and literally resets the arrangement of things.

Take the notion of "Sabbath," for example.  In the hands of 21st century respectable church folks, talk about Sabbath often boils down to, "You should go to church on Sundays."  And that is fine--yes, I happen to believe that being in worship is not only a smart idea on a weekly basis, but actually life-giving in days of soul-crushing sadness and anxiety like these.  But the Biblical writers had a much deeper--and more radical--understanding of Sabbath.  It was not just a day for "going to church." It was a day when work stopped all around--not just for bosses, but for employees; not just for humans, but for animals.  And it was not even just a day--it was also part of a larger pattern of Sabbath years, when, in a seven-year cycle, the land rested, slaves were freed, and--get ready for it--debts were cancelled.  In other words, there was blanket forgiveness, not just of personal grudges for petty little slights, but of real-life hard currency.  Forgiveness was not merely the WASPy "I'll just hold in my anger toward someone until I don't think about it anymore," but rather a very tangible cancellation of debts.  Forgiveness was not merely about my self-centered wish to get the guilt of a grudge off my conscience, but about freeing people from being stuck forever in the cycle of debt from which they could never climb out.  The new beginning wasn't just starting each morning with a positive attitude and looking at your "Hang in there" kitty poster--it was about an actual fresh start on life, all the way down to your bank account and wallet.

Now, my point in all of this is not to say that we should all go wiping out our bank records every seven years. But it is to say--gulping as I say it--that the Bible is actually a lot closer to THAT kind of radical action of relief for people than it is to self-help pablum and decorative plaques reminding you to "let go and let God."  Forgiveness certainly includes the day to day personal relationship stuff, but so often we treat that as so small and petty (because often, it IS small and petty) that it is unimportant and optional.  And at the same time, many of us respectable religious folks couldn't stomach the idea of just outright cancelling peoples' debt, because we are more interested in our profits or the income stream we would lose out on than the lives of people who are being crushed by debt.  And to be really, really, honest, there is some part of us that likes to judge people who are in debt (if you happen to be someone who is not in debt) because it lets you look down on them for making bad choices, or not saving as much as you did, or not getting in on the market when you did. 

But if we are going to take the Bible seriously at all, and if we are going to take seriously the idea in the Bible that grace starts over with us, then we are going to have to deal with starting over in solid, real practical ways.  Forgiveness is not just for when it is easy--forgiveness is for when it is hard and costly.  Forgiveness is not just about hurt feelings--it is about being willing to take a loss.  So often we are unwilling to take a financial hit, to take a loss, not because we can't afford it, but because we are afraid of looking like "losers" or "letting someone else off the hook." How many family stories have had chapters like that, where there is discord between relatives because somebody got forgiven their debt to dear old Grandpa and Grandma, and it doesn't seem "fair" to anybody else?  How many friendships have been ruined because someone who had the chance to let go of a wrong instead kept nursing the grudge and twisting the knife because they felt they didn't want to look like a "loser"?  What a load of dingo's kidneys--at least if we seriously claim to be people who listen to the Bible.

Today, what if we let grace be real and practical today, by taking forgiveness and the idea of a new-beginning seriously?  What if we dared to let go of wrongs against us, even, yes, at personal cost, because we dared to believe that grace is not just for easy stuff and small slights, but for heavy-duty heartaches and actual pocketbook practice? What if we dared to love people more than the money or apologies we think we are owed?  And what if we could see that forgiveness has to be that real in our actions because God has forgiveness us even when the cost was real--and infinite--at the cross? 

That's just it: God takes the cost of practicing forgiveness so seriously that God was willing to go to a cross.  We don't get to harp about "biblical authority" if we aren't going to take grace that seriously, too.  It's real.  Today, let grace be real in your actions and words.

Lord God, make us honest about the cost you went to in forgiving us, so that we will be real in our practice of forgiving others, too.