February 3, 2002

This morning, I am completing a two-part sermon on forgiveness. Last week, I spoke about the forgiveness of others. This morning, I will be talking about forgiving ourselves. Some would say this is the more difficult topic. I would say, it is not a competition. On that issue, I like to apply the adage, where you stand depends on where you sit. Whether it is more difficult to forgive others or to forgive oneself depends a great deal on whether one’s deepest wounds are self-imposed or have been imposed by others. Whatever the case, if you find yourself debating whether it is more difficult to forgive others or to forgive oneself, I suggest that you believe the other person, whether you agree or not. You are both right.

By way of review, I described the forgiveness of others largely as an internal process. It is the letting go of the power another person has over me. I distinguished forgiveness from acceptance and accountability. Acceptance involves an on-going relationship with someone whose behavior is inappropriate for any number of reasons. It doesn’t mean approving or tolerating inappropriate behavior. What one is accepting is that case is that that is how that person is. One then must decide how to relate to that behavior by tolerating it or saying no and establishing and enforcing boundaries that protect you from that behavior. Accountability is about the consequences of inappropriate behavior. Forgiveness was not relieving people of the consequences of their own conduct. The need for forgiveness, acceptance and accountability all may arise from the same act or the same continuing behavior. Yet, they operate independently of each other. Forgiveness is an internal healing, a letting go, that has nothing to do with the other person. It is manifested by the absence of negative feelings.

Self-forgiveness, on the other hand, in the ideal world, would be manifested in a constant awareness and appreciation of one’s inherent worth and dignity. It is not just repeating in front of the mirror, "I am a good person." It is believing it. It is not just feeling like one is a part of this world, but an important part, one that belongs here. It may sound like I’m saying self-forgiveness is nothing more than healthy self-esteem. That’s the least of it. Having an appreciation of my talents, gifts and better qualities is important. Yet, that will not absolve me of wrongdoing. To do that, we must add two more elements: a strong theological sense of self and personal justice That’s part two of this sermon. With respect to theology, though, I have to do a little tearing down before I can do some building. So, I’m going to begin with a short critique of Christian theology.

What I’m critiquing, I must explain, is not the deep, genuine faith of my many Christian friends who find wholeness through their faith. For every one of them, though, I have met at least 10 others wounded by that same faith, as expressed in its creeds, doctrines and liturgy. That is the Christian faith I am critiquing.

Consider first a trivial example. Let’s say I was supposed to arrive early this morning and unlock the church, but I forgot. I wasn’t misinformed. It’s nobody else’s fault. I simply was careless in noting this commitment on my calendar and I circled the wrong Sunday. Meanwhile, the first people to arrive are left literally standing in the cold. Someone takes out a cell phone, calls someone with a key, and that person, in effect, covers for me and unlocks the church. Then, the coordinator steps up during Joys and Sorrows and takes the heat for me by explaining that he was supposed to have left me a message on Saturday reminding me to open the church. Although I said it was trivial, and it is compared to a lot of other things we can talk about, it is very common.

We all feel terrible when we let people down, and particularly when others suffer for it. Like so many bad things in life, the example I just described involved multiple mistakes. The coordinator did fail to fulfill his commitment. Does that absolve me of my carelessness? No. Do I feel better knowing that a few people vented their anger his way and not mine because I wasn’t there? No. In fact, that makes me feel worse.

How many of you know where I’m going with this?

Jesus did not die for my sins. He died for his sins. I would hasten to add that we should all lead such a sinful life. The Romans executed Jesus because they perceived his words and deeds as threats to their state, not to reconcile me with my creator. I’m about to use a strong word here, and I don’t mean to offend those of you here who feel strongly the other way, but, I think the whole concept of vicarious forgiveness or blood atonement is appalling. I find the idea that a father would have his own son executed for my benefit repulsive. If God so loved the world that he executed his only son, then I don’t want that God’s love. To paraphrase the old adage, with friends like that, who needs Satan?

Most Christians believe that it is through their belief in Jesus and in his sacrifice that they are reconciled with God and forgiven for their sins. In practice, this belief is expressed by faithfully attending church, partaking of the sacraments of confession or communion, and/or affirming their faith in Christ by reciting their creed.

This theology is based on a flawed image of Jesus and of God, in my humble . It assumes that our sinful nature separates us from God, and that, in one sense, the whole purpose of faith is to restore that relationship or, put another way, reconcile ourselves with God. Mainstream Christian doctrine holds that this reconciliation is achieved through faith in Jesus as the Risen Christ. Moreover, most Christians I know believe that this reconciliation is manifested in eternal salvation, with the obvious corollary that those who are not reconciled to God in life are destined for hell, which the most benign of my Christian sisters and brothers would say simply is an eternal life without God.

I don’t know what happens to us when we die. If there is such a thing as heaven, my inclination is that the Universalists got it right when they said everyone gets in, not based on the belief that we are so good as to be entitled to it, but because God’s love for us is unconditional.

These thoughts, though, have nothing to do with forgiving ourselves. I presented them here only to illustrate what I think is a critical failure of Christianity. Its myopic focus on forgiveness from God so that we might obtain eternal salvation later provides no answers for those seeking forgiveness from human beings so that we might obtain fully loving lives here and now.

The Christian tradition insists that Jesus was both fully human and fully divine. Yet, there is one very human experience missing from all of the Gospels and the Epistles. There is no recorded evidence that Jesus ever said, "I’m sorry." Among all the accounts of his acts and miracles, there is none in which Jesus reconciles with another human being whom he has hurt. Indeed, Jesus did not model what is perhaps the one thing we most need modeled for us: how to live an imperfect life. When confronted by a truly repentant prostitute, Jesus advised her to ask for forgiveness and then to "go and sin no more." That’s great advice, but we know that’s not going to happen. Jesus tells us to do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Yet, what are we supposed to do when, inevitably, we fail to do that?

According to Matthew, Jesus admonished his audience that, if you approach the alter with a gift and remember that a brother or sister has something against you, you must leave the alter, reconcile with the brother or sister, and then return to offer your gift. Once again, excellent advice. No instructions are given and no such acts by Jesus are offered as a model. By contrast, with respect to forgiving others, Jesus taught that we must forgive those who harm us not seven times, but seventy times seven times. More importantly, he called from the cross at the moment of his greatest pain, "Father, forgive them, for they no not what they do." Now, that’s what we call praxis! Yet, the story of Jesus includes no such praxis when it comes to leading an imperfect life.

So, let’s assume we’re devout in our faith and attend church regularly and sincerely ask for God’s forgiveness for our sins. On the way home from church, we take up the command for social justice and drop off a meal at the soup kitchen and take our aluminum cans to the recycling center. My question is, how do we live with ourselves when we arrive home from the soup kitchen and walk into a household in which our own shortcomings have resulted in disappointment, hurt, and pain in the hearts of the people we love most. I suggest that neither faith nor good works is sufficient to achieve true self-forgiveness.

Let’s indulge in stereotypes for just a minute. UU’s are criticized all the time by people who don’t know what we’re about because they think we can believe anything. Yet, in all fairness, no lay speaker or ordained minister ever is going to stand in this pulpit and tell people it’s OK to commit adultery because we don’t have a creed. Yet, there are some very devout Christians out there who think they can do commit adultery six days a week if they sincerely repent on the seventh. My Christian friends remind me that, if the person is not sincere, the repentance doesn’t count and the sins are not absolved. Yet, I know addicts. And I know that many people who get drunk or gamble or stray from their vows and they really want to stop; they are very sincere when they repent, and they’re very good at it because they do it every week. Many of these people regularly engage in an unhealthy cycle of misconduct, true remorse, then absolution in the form of communion or confession – a sort of wiping the slate clean – followed by more misconduct, and on it goes. Too often, to many churches and clergy send such people away from their services, content to know that--for the moment anyway—their parishioner’s souls have been reconciled with God. Yet, they fail to provide the real-life, real-time services and support such people need to break that cycle. This failure, I believe, is a direct consequence of a theology whose only focus is salvation in the after-life.

Compared to this view, I would respectfully suggest that Unitarian-Universalism, creedless though it is, presents the far greater challenge because we have covenanted with each other to practice justice, equity and compassion in all of our affairs. Our duty does not end with social justice, at least in the abstract sense. In addition, our covenant calls us to a kind of personal justice, a one-on-one justice, which, I respectfully suggest, if it is not missing, is certainly not highlighted in mainstream Christian doctrine.

Here’s where I begin rebuilding what I’ve just torn down. I want to respectfully suggest that we replace the traditional Christian understanding of humankind’s sinful nature and reconciliation through Christ with a theology that affirms that inherent goodness of humankind and insists on personal justice in our relationships here on earth.

For Biblical support, I start in the beginning with Genesis. God created humankind in God’s image and declared that it was good. Stop, end the analysis right there. Forget the whole apple scene in the Garden of Eden. We were created as an expression of love by some being greater than we are and that is our nature. I do not deny that all human beings commit wrongdoings and, in fact, are incapable of living without doing so. We are all bi-peds, too. Yet, we don’t say that what defines us and distinguishes us from God is our two feet. Likewise, our propensity to make the wrong choice from time to time is not what defines us or our relationship with our creator. Just as we may be the only living creatures that are capable of committing so-called sins, we are the only living creatures that are capable of love.

Yet, in the liturgy of almost every Catholic and Protestant service, there are at least 5 references like this: "we beg your mercy for our sins," "we offer these unworthy gifts," "we thank you for your unmerited love," or "you love us even though we are not worthy." With all due respect, that’s terrible theology. There’s a 180-degree difference between, "Thank you God for loving me, though I am not worthy" and "Thank you God for making me--literally--worthy of your love." How can people feel good about themselves, feel connected to life, to feel worthy of being loved in a human relationship if, each week, they must beg their God to love them in spite of themselves?

So, my first prescription for self-forgiveness is to have a solid sense of self grounded in a theology that affirms the inherent goodness of the divine and ourselves. And, what a coincidence, everyone here is part of a faith tradition that affirms the inherent worthiness and dignity of each individual. Think about that word inherent and what that means.

It’s not enough, though, to sit here each week and here me tell you how wonderful you are. The degree to which you are able to internalize this sense of worthiness and dignity and really believe it is directly proportional to your willingness and commitment to connect to this community. You only get back what you give. Are you feeling guilty about something? Would you like to read something that helps you to feel better about yourself? For God’s sake, don’t read the Epistles. Read Our Chosen Faith or With Purpose and Principle, which has a separate chapter on each of our seven principles.

Here’s a passage on our first principle from With Purpose of Principle:

"What is the theological grounding of our first principle? Because we believe that our God is one God, one and the same spirit of love uniting all people, then all are brothers and sisters. I am reminded of Dr. Norbert Capek’s prayer at the first flower communion service in his church in Czechoslovakia on June 4, 1923: ‘Let us renew our resolution sincerely to be real brothers and sisters regardless of any kind of bar which estranges . . . . In this holy resolution may we be strengthened knowing that we are God’s family; that one spirit, the spirit of love unites us."

Doesn’t that sound much better than a confession of sin?

A verbal footnote: I didn’t say that you should never read the Epistles or that they don’t contain a lot of wisdom. Just wait until after my sermon on March 17, which is when I will be offering a sermon on how wonderful Jesus was and is and what we can learn from his disciples.

Being engaged with our faith tradition through commitment and study are not enough, though. Experience and reason tell me that I cannot feel better about myself if I avoid dealing with my mistakes. By that I mean, if I have hurt someone somehow, I need to confront that person directly, acknowledge my mistakes, and do that right thing, whatever that may be. The most effective means of reconciliation is not with an apology but with a sincere, demonstrable effort not to make the mistake again. Recall what I said about the forgiveness of others. If the person still is engaged in the behavior, forgiveness is not even an issue. The challenge in that case is to accept that it is ongoing behavior and to decide where you are going to draw your boundaries. Likewise, if some behavior of mine is hurting other people, feeling good about myself is going to be second on everyone else’s list of things I need to do my first obligation is to stop the behavior. It should be second on my list as well.

There are times when we cannot make restitution. In that situation, it is imperative to find a charity or some form of community service with which you can make your amends. For example, if you carry a lot of guilt because of some terrible things you said to your father before he died, and his favorite charity was the Heart Association, then giving a significant contribution to that group in his name or, what would be more meaningful than just writing a check, support that group with your time and energy, perhaps by participating is walk-a-thon or something like that.

Now, this may seem counter-intuitive, but, just as I said forgiveness of others has nothing to do with the other person, likewise, personal justice has nothing to do with the other person. If reconciliation occurs, that’s a bonus. When me make amends for our behavior, it’s for our well-being, not the other person’s. What is critical is that I can look into a mirror and know that that I did the best that I could to make things right. Some people just don’t want to hear "I’m sorry." Some people will not accept even the most sincere apology. That’s their problem, though. If I make my own sense of forgiveness dependent on whether another person accepts my apology, then I’m giving that other person complete power over my well being. One of my themes in all of my sermons is that we are responsible for our own happiness. We have to allow that in our moment of willingness to right our wrongs, the other person may not be there yet, and we have to allow them to keep being angry if that’s what the other person wants. As surely as I know that I am worthy of my maker’s love, I know there will be people in my life who don’t believe that. I can’t let those feelings, though, keep me from my own recovery.

I affirm the Universalist tenet that our creator is the manifestation of divine and infinite love and that, no matter what I do in my life, my creator will love me. Self-forgiveness is not about establishing that fact. It’s about believing it. And, the best way to believe it is to have a faith that calls us not only into right relationship with the divine, but with each other and affirms both our inherent worth and dignity and demands of us as well a way of life of justice, equity and compassion in all of our affairs.