The Cathedral Quarterly: Reconciliation

Reconciliation

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OUR MISSION Inspired by the love of Jesus, we are building the kingdom of heaven, where differing people live in community, serving God and each other.

DEAR CATHEDRAL,

When I was four, I fell off my big wheel (a low-to-the-ground, threewheeled toddler toy) and cut the inside of my right ankle badly. Scar tissue formed over the wound. Tough and thick, it still reminds me of where I injured myself, but it is tougher and stronger than my normal skin.

Conflict is a part of the human condition. We learn and grow through conflict and struggle. But the way to grow is by moving through the conflict to the other side, by repairing the breach that was created – bridging the divide. We must create a new connection, and like scar tissue, it will be stronger.

This Lent we will be diving deeply into the theme of Reconciliation. Reconciliation is different from simple healing. It is when we are able to repair a ruptured relationship, and it can only happen fully when God grants us grace.

In a recent sermon, Father Mark talked about how Corrie Ten Boom, a victim of a Nazi concentration camp, was able to forgive one of the guards who approached her after the war. She was overcome by anger and rage when she saw him, but she asked God for help. She merely tried to take the first step of lifting her hand, and when she did so, warmth traveled through her entire body and she was granted the gift of forgiveness. Reconciliation was made possible because she asked for God’s help.

Reconciliation is not about condoning violence or oppression. It is not a way to ignore pain or injustice. Rather it is following Jesus through the violence and hatred of the cross itself into the new life of resurrection. Reconciliation is pure miracle, and it can only happen with God’s help. But when it does, it changes everything.

Let us pray for reconciliation throughout the world this Lent. And let it begin in our own hearts.

With love in Christ,

RECONCILIATION 201: EMBRACING THE ATTACKER

by the Rev. Gee Alexander

Straight to the point and said with love, anger is a malignant, persistent infusion in the soul of everyone. Undetected and untreated, it moves into every facet of our lives, thoughts, and actions: prayer, love of ourselves, family and neighbor, our shared ministries, how we treat those with whom we sometimes violently disagree on theology, politics, social issues, and a host of other areas that evidence who we are deep down. We don’t just read and hear the positions on any topic, we imbibe them. Positive or negative, we ingest them sometimes with critical thought, often taken at face value and treated as gospel. And if we disagree with the message, the messenger receives the mild discussion, hopefully makes more contact or unfortunately a distancing movement to progressive aggressive slowly builds. Anger is like a yanked rope that had been gripped in our hands. Now there is bleeding pain, and if we treat it, eventually scars. Scars remain, but the reason for them and the remedy for a new way of treating the snatcher – a reconciliation – can begin with a radical, radical step. Invite the attacker into your life.

Years ago, I read this portion of Walter J. Burghardt Jr.’s sermon on “Christ’s Blood upon Us.” I know no more poignant description of embracing the attacker. I pray its impact changes my heart and yours. Reconciliation is brutal, faithful work. Pray.

In the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, in a tiny town named Mafraq, two Bedouin youths got into a fight, fell to the ground in their fury. One lad pulled out a knife, plunged it fatally into the other’s flesh. In fear he fled for days across the desert, fled the slain boy’s vengeful relatives, fled to find a Bedouin sanctuary, a “tent of refuge,” designed by law for those who kill unintentionally or in the heat of anger. At last he reached what might be a refuge the black-tented encampment of a nomad tribe. He flung himself at the feet of its leader, an aged sheik, begged him: “I have killed in the heat of anger; I implore your protection; I seek the refuge of your tent.” “If God wills,” the old man responded, “I grant it to you, as long as you remain with us.”

A few days later the avenging relatives tracked the fugitive to the refuge. They asked the sheik: “Have you seen this man? Is he here? For we will have him.”

“He is here, but you will not have him.”

“He has killed, and we the blood relatives of the slain will stone him by law.”

“You will not.”

“We demand him!”

“No. The boy has my protection; I have given my word, my promise of refuge.”

“But you do not understand. He has killed your grandson!” The ancient sheik was silent. No one dared to speak. Then, in visible pain, with tears searing his face, the old man stood up and spoke ever so slowly: “My only grandson—he is dead?”

“Yes, your only grandson is dead.”

“Then,” said the sheik, “then this boy will be my son. He is forgiven, and he will live with us as my own. Go now; it is finished.”

THIS IS JUST TO SAY

By William Carlos Williams

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold

FORGIVENESS AND REPENTANCE

by the Right Rev. J. Porter Taylor

As the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr wrote in The Irony of American History:

“Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore, we must be saved by hope. Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in the immediate context of history; therefore, we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone: therefore, we must be saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore, we must be saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness.”

In his book Being Disciples, Rowan Williams writes, “Forgiveness is the exchange of the bread of life and the bread of truth; it is the way in which those who have damaged each other’s humanity and its dignity are brought back into relation where each feeds the other and nurtures their dignity.”

Forgiveness allows both parties not to be defined by their past but rather by their identity as children of God made in God’s image. In forgiveness, each person is invited to start over. In a sense forgiveness is about conversion. To forgive someone is to change the way you see them. They are no longer the person who wronged you. They are a child of God just like you. Therefore, when we forgive someone, we are letting go of our desire to define them by their past.

It’s not accidental that Jesus seldom asked people where they had been. He asked them where do you want to go? Or what do you want from me? Because their past did not define them; instead, it’s their hope of a deeper, wider future. To forgive is to desire for the person who wronged you to come to the table so everyone can start over. Otherwise, we become prisoners of our past and our labels prevent us from seeing the other person as a child of God instead of someone who has wronged us.

Dante’s picture of Hell, the Inferno, is where people are stuck with their sin forever. In the Circle of Anger, the people there are stuck with the person

they hate forever. It’s why Desmond Tutu’s book is titled No Future Without Forgiveness, and it’s why the Lord’s prayer says, “And forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” We ask for forgiveness and promise to forgive so that we can taste the bread of heaven and the cup of salvation.

Repentance is the next step in Forgiveness.

“NO MATTER HOW LOW YOU MAY HAVE FALLEN IN YOUR OWN ESTEEM, BEAR IN MIND THAT IF YOU DELVE DEEPLY INTO YOURSELF, YOU WILL DISCOVER HOLINESS THERE. A HOLY SPARK RESIDES THERE, WHICH THROUGH REPENTANCE, YOU MAY FAN INTO A CONSUMING FLAME, WHICH WILL BURN AWAY THE DROSS OF UNHOLINESS AND UNWORTHINESS.” ~Thomas Merton, Thomas Merton in Alaska, 154.

The Greek word for repentance literally means “to go beyond the mind you have.” To repent, therefore, is less about feeling guilty and more about remembering your true self to such a degree that it’s easy to discard your old self, which has rooted itself in acts that no longer feed you. When we go beyond the mind we have, we gain a deeper and wider vision of ourselves. We remember who we are called to be, and we take a step towards that. Marcus Borg defines repentance this way: “To return from exile, to return from a state of separation, to begin that journey of return from a separated self to a new self in God.” One of the early Christians called repentance “the daughter of hope” because when we turn around, we see the world, other human beings, and ourselves differently.

As Jesus spoke of the Prodigal Son, one day after being with the pigs far from home, ‘the son came to himself.’ That is, he remembered home and remembered the love his father had for him regardless of his actions. Therefore, repentance is less about thinking of your wrongdoing and instead remembering God’s constant love for you. Borg goes on to write that repentance allows us to “return from a separated self to a new self in God.” Repentance is, therefore, about remembering or discovering who we are and why we are alive. It’s the doorway to a new self that is free from our ego and is instead fully our true self. We no longer center our identity on what we own, what we do, or what people say about us, but rather on our connection to the living God.

When we repent, we let go of the confines of our egotistic baggage and become free to be the person God created us to be. As Ezekiel promises, God “will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. I will put my spirit within you….” (Ezekiel 36) Therefore, the soul of repentance is freedom for the old ways of living which bind us and promote a false self. When we repent and “go beyond the mind you have,” we remember why we are here and what we are called to do and be. We are free from the world’s definitions of our lives and both free and equipped to live the life God yearns for us to live.

FORGIVENESS

by John Greenleaf Whittier

My heart was heavy, for its trust had been Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong; So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men,

One summer Sabbath day I strolled among

The green mounds of the village burial-place;

Where, pondering how all human love and hate

Find one sad level; and how, soon or late,

Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face,

And cold hands folded over a still heart,

Pass the green threshold of our common grave, Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart, Awed for myself, and pitying my race,

Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave, Swept all my pride away, and trembling I forgave!

Shocking God, you turn our world upside down!

Shock us into new life, that your loving-kindness may resonate through our thoughts, words and deeds, and our lives reflect the generosity of Jesus’s love. Amen.

FRATERNAL FORGIVENESS |

Andrey Yanev

“MAUNDY THURSDAY”

by Trevor Williams

from What were you arguing about along the way? Gospel Reflections for Advent, Christmas, Lent, Holy Week and Easter edited by Pat Bennett

On Maundy Thursday, when we think of the last supper, and when we remember that it was on this evening that Jesus said, ‘Do this in remembrance of me,’ let us for a moment look at this sacrament of forgiveness and new life which Jesus has given us, through the story of the foot washing.

Jesus, in the middle of this solemn meal, gets up from the table, takes off his outer garment, and then, dressed only in a flimsy tunic (which could go down to the knees or the ankles and was possibly sleeveless), he fills a basin of water. What is he at? Jesus puts a towel around his waist and bends down and starts washing the feet of his disciples. He comes eventually to Peter –and there he meets resistance. Like many of us, Peter instinctively believes in hierarchy.

There are important people at the top, and there are unimportant people at the bottom. Peter is quite prepared to wash the feet of Jesus. But it’s just not right the other way around. What would we do if Jesus came to our house and offered to tidy up the kitchen and do the washing up? And then says he might as well clean the toilets? We’d probably react in the same way as Peter.

Jesus then says something very strange: “If I cannot wash your feet, you shall have no part of me.” Very strong words – “If I cannot wash your feet, you cannot share in the kingdom.”

This kingdom is a contrast culture where service, not success, is the measure of life; where people are valued not for who or what they are, but simply because they are children of God.

This is the only time that Jesus says, “I have done this as an example...So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”

Imagine yourself sitting among the disciples. Jesus now comes to you. He kneels. Takes the sandal gently off your foot and pours on the

refreshing water. How does it feel that Jesus is washing your feet? Are you uncomfortable? Maybe you’re more comfortable giving than receiving from others. Do you deserve this intimate act of caring from Jesus? You haven’t been the person you know you should have been – and this act of washing your feet makes you feel terribly exposed for who you are. Maybe you want to be ‘left alone’ like Peter, rather than face what has surfaced through this act of loving service.

BUT JESUS INSISTS...

This act of service shows that you are loved, accepted as you are. There is no need to hide, to cloak the past – it is all fully known. No need to pretend you are better than you are – you are loved, warts and all. You are accepted. That is what the forgiveness of Jesus means.

Jesus’s ability to forgive was amazing. On the cross he said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” The Croatian theologian Miroslav Volf said that forgiveness needs a kind of double vision – an ability to move beyond your own pain and put yourself into the shoes of the perpetrator. To see things from their point of view, Jesus is, in that cry from the cross, saying, “I can see it from their point of view, they don’t understand. Forgive them, Father.”

At Corrymeela Centre at Ballycastle, we have worship twice a day, which guests are invited to attend if they want to. On one occasion, towards the end of a residential programme, some members of a youth group turned up for what was to be their last worship. At the end of the very simple form, as people sat in a circle around a lighted candle, a cross, and a Bible, the young people were asked if they wished to pray for anybody who they were concerned about. One young person said, “I would like to pray for a man. He is in prison tonight. He is very worried. His wife, children, and family are worried because tomorrow he returns to court to be sentenced.” After the worship, this young girl was asked who it was that she had wanted prayer for – who was this man in prison? She said, “He’s the man who murdered my father.”

This girl had double vision. She could feel the anxiety of this man and his family. That moved her – even though this man was the cause of such pain.

Jesus had double vision. When from the cross he said, “Father, forgive,” he looked around at those responsible, the religious leaders, the crowds shouting crucify…he looks at you and me – caught up in and contributing to the sinful web of the world – and he says, “Father, forgive them, they do not know what they are doing.” How is this possible – this double vision; this possibility to find space, in our suffering, to recognize the suffering of others? That space, that double vision, is possible when we have a sense that we are forgiven. We love because he first loved us; we forgive because we are forgiven.

So how can we contribute to reconciliation? We have an opportunity every time we receive communion – the tokens of Christ, given up for us. In receiving this, in acceptance of Christ washing our feet, offering us forgiveness, we take another step on the journey towards wholeness. And in finding that inner peace, we have more room to undertake the costly task of forgiving others. When we know we are forgiven, then we can forgive others. When we are served with love, we learn how to serve. When we are loved as Jesus loves, then we can love others as he did.

Reflection:

When you find it just too difficult to live in harmony with God’s coming kingdom, what in this Trevor Williams’ piece might be able to support you? Are you finding it difficult to reconcile with someone? Why is it difficult? Is there something you can do in response to what you have just read?

DO NOT BE ASHAMED

by Wendell Berry

You will be walking some night in the comfortable dark of your yard and suddenly a great light will shine round about you, and behind you will be a wall you never saw before. It will be clear to you suddenly that you were about to escape, and that you are guilty: you misread the complex instructions, you are not a member, you lost your card or never had one. And you will know that they have been there all along, their eyes on your letters and books, their hands in your pockets, their ears wired to your bed.

Though you have done nothing shameful, they will want you to be ashamed. They will want you to kneel and weep And say you should have been like them. And once you say you are ashamed. reading the page they hold out to you, then such light as you have made in your history will leave you. There is no power against them. It is only candor that is aloof from them, only an inward clarity, unashamed, that they cannot reach. Be ready. When their light has picked you out and their questions are asked,say to them. “I am not ashamed.” A sure horizon will come around you. The heron will rise in his evening flight from the hilltop.

RECONCILIATION

BY MUTHURAJ SWAMY

by Christopher Landau

Several theological terms risk being so vague that they drift toward meaninglessness. Appeals to the centrality of love, for example, have the danger of being vacuous unless qualified. Reconciliation is another such term, prominent in usage but slippery in content. As with love, few might admit to being opposed to reconciliation, but equally few may offer a robust, pithy, theologically cogent definition.

Muthuraj Swamy’s new book, with its stark single-word title, Reconciliation, is the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Lent Book for 2019. Archbishop Justin Welby’s introduction is instructive, reminding readers that reconciliation is one of his three stated priorities in office. Quite simply, “Reconciliation is the Gospel,” Welby writes. He regards it as the restoration of brokenness caused by sin: “There is good news because from the first stirrings of dissent, God has been working to mend, to heal and to reconcile.”

Swamy later quotes another of Welby’s reflections that reconciliation is “one of our greatest needs and toughest challenges as human beings. In a world plagued by conflict, division and indifference, the Church has a crucial role to play as a community of reconcilers.”

Swamy has personal experience in such initiatives, both through years of interreligious dialogue in his native India and more recent work as director of the Cambridge Centre for Christianity Worldwide. He also manages the Theological Education for Mission project within the Anglican Communion. He brings these international perspectives to bear in a book that offers 40 biblical reflections arranged that they may be read daily through Lent.

But as with any book considering themes of reconciliation, there is a lingering question about how easy it is to move from a theological and salvific understanding of reconciliation in Christ to a more universally understood notion of reconciliation as peacemaking among human

beings. Swamy is certainly alive to such considerations, and grounds his reflections in 2 Corinthians 5:17-20 and Colossians 1:19-22. He writes that both passages offer “three essential facts about reconciliation for and by Christians.”

These are, first, the foundational quality for any Christian of personal reconciliation to God in Jesus Christ. He then suggests that Paul’s writing of God reconciling all things to himself “implies the process of reconciliation among all things as well.” Third, to be involved in such activity is “a responsibility and a vocation.”

Swamy then identifies five specific aspects of reconciliation. First, “God’s reconciliation,” in which reconciliation with God through Jesus Christ is foundational for a ministry of reconciliation. Second, “our reconciliation with God,” which builds on the first but emphasizes that “it is up to us to turn towards God and live in a good relationship with God and with our fellow human beings.” Third, “our reconciliation with others” equates to “proper and just relationships with our neighbours.” Fourth, “reconciliation within ourselves” requires learning “to relate to our own selves,” including nurturing inner peace. Finally, he writes of “our efforts to reconcile our fellow human beings with God and to promote reconciliation among our neighbours.”

I list these in full as it seems important to underline the theological foundation for Swamy’s work. He acknowledges that his approach is wide in scope, “building and strengthening relationships with radical openness to the other.” His biblical reflections are engaging, and the questions posed at the end of each chapter are often finely tuned. But questions remain about whether this broad underlying definition of reconciliation is sufficiently clear in theology.

Most of the book is focused on reconciliation as relationships restored, or the consideration of personal factors that might inhibit a willingness to participate in such ministry. I believe more could have been said about how one moves from Paul’s notion of reconciliation in Christ to a wider work of reconciliation in the world (which may be more reflective of a call to neighborly love than a biblical definition of reconciliation). Undoubtedly the gospel has a call to peacemaking and restored relationships at its heart, but this is not the same as the call to be reconciled to God, and it is not

immediately clear that Paul imagines a “ministry of reconciliation” to be primarily aimed at peacemaking regardless of the Christian commitment of the parties involved.

Readers engaging daily through Lent with these reflections, however, will find themselves stirred to reconsider themes at the heart of Christian faith and practice.

Christopher Landau is postgraduate pastor at St Aldates, an hon chaplain at Christ Church cathedral, and McDonald Chaplain with the Oxford Pastorate. His Oxford DPhil is on disagreement among Christians – ‘A Theology of Disagreement.’

ON A DAY WHEN THE WORLD HAS ITS WAY WITH ME

By Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Like every day, this day today it is clear that only love will save us. Not in the grandiose abstract way, but in the alarmingly specific way. As in forgiveness, now. As in choosing to hug instead of fighting back. As in taking three deep breaths before saying something we regret. It saves us from thirsting in the desert of our lives, but only if we save it first by

choosing it, now in this moment of angry words, now in this moment of clenched thoughts, now in this moment when we’d rather taste venom, but instead, we pour love into our cup and bring it to our lips and drink and drink until once again it is only love makes sense, only love refills the cup.

CATHEDRAL QUARTERLY EDITORIAL BOARD

Owene Courtney

Laura Jane Pittman

The Rev. Dr. Linda Privitera ADVISOR

The Very Reverend Kate Moorehead Carroll

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