Second cup: "Bread and Forgiveness"

3/4/18 FUMC
Third Sunday of Lent: “The Lord’s Prayer”
“Give us this day, our daily bread

I grew up in a rich and eclectic musical culture: classical, jazz, of course, the hymns and gospel songs of the church, popular—even country western; my born in England father loved country western music. One of the songs that has reverberated through my memories this week, is from my childhood called “That Lucky Old Sun,” written by Louis Armstrong, yes, that Louis Armstrong; it goes like this….

Up in the mornin'
Out on the job
Work like the devil for my pay
But that lucky old sun has nothin' to do
But roll around heaven all day
Fuss with my woman, toil for my kids
Sweat 'til I'm wrinkled and gray
While that lucky old sun has nothin' to do
But roll around Heaven all day
Good Lord up above, can't you know I'm pining, tears all in my eyes;
Send down that cloud with a silver lining, lift me to Paradise
Show me that river, take me across
And wash all my troubles away...

That resonates a little, doesn’t it?

One of my favorite memoirists, Madeleine L’Engle, said, as if commenting on this song, “The problem with life is that it is just so damn daily.” The reality of simply putting one foot in front of the other. There’s so much to do. Places to go. People to meet. Chores to be accomplished. Church to go to. Prayers to be prayed. Lists to be checked off; bank accounts to be balanced. Into this damn dailiness comes Jesus, bursting out of his tomb and into ours saying wake up! Breaking up routines and the dominant powers of his day, calling us to look at the people we bump into; inviting women into his work; working on the Sabbath; raising dead men; forgiving those who deserve to be stoned; even suggesting to at least one person that he should go sell everything, give it to the poor, and follow him; asking us to consider how we spend our money and our time—and telling us there is simpler way—not less demanding but simpler. He calls rewards and compensations into question, calls tax collectors away from their work and then has dinner with them; he overturns nearly everything. He says again and again, “You have heard it said of old, but I say unto you….”

I think we have to hear the words of this familiar prayer in this radical spirit. When you pray, Jesus says, pray like this: “The bread of us daily give to us today.” This day; not for the month, week, even for tomorrow; he says, our daily bread for this day. Where is this going? As I said last week, the world Jesus invites us to live in is a paradoxical world, an in-between world; it has come, Jesus ushered it in, yet it is to come; yet we are in it. Like all of this prayer, the part we consider today is about how we live in such a world as followers of Jesus.

Here’s where we eat and live and move, right? We are called to be kingdom people who have to live and work with other kingdom people and with people who are, by choice, not kingdom people, in the damn dailiness of our lives.

How do we deal with this reality? Perhaps reflecting on L’Engle’s statement, Joan D. Chittister says, “I begin to understand as never before that holiness is made of dailiness, of living life as it comes to me, not as I insist it be.” Daily, Jesus says. We pray for this day; in other places, he pushes the envelope, as we say; he says not to worry about what we eat or wear—the Parent to whom we pray will take care of us. Don’t lay up for yourselves treasures where they can be stolen or corrupted or rust away. Live daily; the kingdom, Jesus seems to say, is a one day at a time kingdom. So, we live in the now even as we understand that our now is a kingdom now—a Kairos now, an eternity now.

As if this isn’t enough, Jesus adds, also we should pray like this: “And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors…,” which seems to say forgive us in the present as we have forgiven in the past.

Forgive our trespasses as we have forgiven those who trespass against us: in other words, forgive us for refusing to go where we should go and forgive us for going where we shouldn’t. Where should we go: the way of forgiveness; where should we not go: the way of unforgiveness. To the extent that we forgive others who trespass we will be forgiven. So, how do we live in the kingdom? We live as forgivers. Now we tend to ask God for forgiveness for our trespasses, but many scholars agree that debt is probably closer to what Jesus had in mind. Not economic debt, but another kind of debt altogether.

St. Augustine calls this part of the Lord’s Prayer the “terrible petition.” Augustine says if you don’t forgive you are building a prison of debt. A self-constructed debtor’s prison. When we don’t forgive, we are praying to not be forgiven. We are to live in the kingdom in an active state of forgiveness. Jesus seems to take this forgiveness stuff really seriously. It seems to be a thing; the waiting father and the prodigal son; 7 x 70 times, which some commentators suggest is about forever forgiveness, not about keeping count. Immediately at the end of this prayer, Jesus says, “For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” Jesus, on the cross, prayed for the forgiveness of those who lied, connived, and colluded with Rome to bring about his death.

Ultimately, I think these words about dailiness and forgiveness are pleas for freedom. L’Engle says, “It’s hard to let go of anything we love. We live in a world which teaches us to clutch. But when we clutch we’re left with a fistful of ashes.” What we seek is freedom from ashes; freedom from bondage. Bondage to the largely self-inflicted demands of the day and bondage from the tyrannical prison of unforgiveness. We are bound to each other for good or ill. We are bound to the one we choose not to forgive; we are bound to the anger, resentment, and dis-ease that accompany the lack of forgiveness.

So, how does this prayer invite us to live in the in between kingdom? As persons free of the false demands of dailiness and as persons who are forgiven because we have forgiven—this is how the kingdom defines itself; this is how the kingdom comes. The world right side up kingdom. In Galatians 5:13, Paul reminds us that we “were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

Amen.