January 28, 2024

Ephesians 4:32-5:2

Ephesians 4:32. Be Kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as Christ God forgives you."  Is there a heavier weight than guilt? And is there a better feeling than having that weight removed? 

It has been four decades. In the time since, he had raised a family, earned a PHD, and served as a history professor. He was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives twice and the U.S. Senate once. He even ran for president in 1972. He made a name for himself as a very vocal opponent of US involvement in Vietnam and served diligently to address world hunger in several capacities, even playing a key role in establishing the United Nations World Food Program. But despite all he had done and accomplished, there was an event that always haunted George McGovern. 

It was March 1945, and George McGovern served as a pilot of a B-24 Liberator. Known as the Flying Coffin to those who served in it. George McGovern flew 35 missions in an aircraft that, at certain points in the war, had a 50% loss rate. No matter what you thought of his politics, you had to admit that he was a great pilot. The B-24 was incredibly difficult. But over those past years, McGovern had excelled. He had survived crash landings, engine failure, and severe damage from air defenses, earning him a distinguished flying cross. 

But on this run, there was no engine failure or flack damage. In fact, the problem they faced was relatively minor. They were on their way back from a successful run in Germany when the crew informed him that one of the bombs was caught in its rack and dangling in the bomb bay. With the bay doors open, the crew worked to dislodge the bomb while he chose a route over the Austrian Alps, avoiding towns and cities so that when the bomb did dislodge, they would cause minimal damage. So, he flew, and the crew worked. 

When in an instant, the bomb was finally dislodged. And they watched in horror as it descended upon a lone farmhouse in the Austrian countryside. It was a direct hit. The House, the barns, and the outbuildings were destroyed in an instant. To make matters worse, he vividly remembered looking at his watch and seeing the time. Noon. He knew what that meant. Being a pastor's kid from a small farming community in South Dakota, he knew how the farmers and their families would eat lunch at noon like clockwork. His heart sank as he realized what he had just done. He had not bombed a refinery or an industrial center. He had just bombed an innocent family. for 4 decades he bore the weight. And 40 years later he told the story in a documentary that aired in Austria. It haunted him. 

Maybe you know how he felt. Guilt is a heavy load. it looms large over you, like a cloud, affecting your judgment and twisting your emotions. It will so occupy your consciousness that you think about it constantly, replaying it in your mind on a loop like McGovern watching that bomb hit that farmhouse over and over again. 

Only for us, rather than dropping a bomb on a farmhouse, we drop a bomb of evil on our own. Because rather than showing the kind of kindness Paul talks about in Ephesians 4, you brought evil to your doorstep and sent your marriage spiraling out of control or left the kids shell-shocked. In our minds, we replay the moments that we replaced Godly compassion with words so heartlessly ruthless to your kids, your siblings, your friend, your spouse- that you still can't believe you said it. Sometimes that weight of guilt is found in the form of big events that you wish you could take back. Other times it's little things, so many little things, that led to a situation you never realized you were creating. But in the end, you know it's a direct hit. The people you didn't but it did. And nothing can change that. 

Or maybe you were the one in the farmhouse. Maybe you are the one who received evil instead of good from the ones you relied upon, the people you trusted. Maybe you were the one who received cruelty on top of cruelty from those who should have been treating you with compassion. Maybe you are the face that someone else sees in their fits of regret, and you spend your life in the ashes. Then you read this petition. "Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us." And you wish it didn't include that last part. Or at least, it said it the other way around. Because try as you might, you just can't seem to let it go. Not when their actions still hurt you. And you want them to suffer too. Not when their debt is still outstanding and you haven't been satisfied yet. Not when you still want your payback. Your pound of flesh. Not when your struggle to live in the wake of destruction is so hard on you and unconditional forgiveness is so easy on them. So you hold onto it. And the bitterness and anger, it becomes a weight of guilt all its own. 

Maybe you're in the first boat. Maybe you're in the second. But probably you're in both. Because there are plenty of times when we are the one who drops the bomb of our sins upon the innocent and plenty of times when it's us in that farmhouse. Either way, we need to unload it. We need to be able to drop it all somewhere and leave it behind. Because it's a burden we can't bear. 

So George McGovern relivied it again. He unloaded his burden in a documentary that aired on Austrian television. He told the story of the bomb dangling in the bomb bay. He talked about how he chose a route that avoided towns and cities. The release of the bomb.  That horrible trajectory that brought it directly on top of that farmhouse. On Austrian television, he confessed to vaporizing an innocent Austrian family. After the documentary aired, the television station received a phone call. It was the owner of that farm. He was still Alive! And he remembered that day. It turns out that he had heard that planes were coming that day, and he grabbed his family, and they ran. When the house and barns were destroyed, he and his family were lying in a ditch. No one was hurt. More than that, he said he was grateful to Mr. McGovern. Because if losing his farmhouse helped in any way to defeat Hitler it was worth it. With just a few words, a weight that Mr. McGovern had borne for 40 years was lifted. 

That's a nice story. But unfortunately, there will be no phone call for us. No one to tell us the thing we regretted wasn't actually that bad or didn't actually hurt anyone. We know better. We saw the carnage. We live in the aftermath. There will be no McGovern moment for us. Forgiveness isn't a time machine to take us back and prevent us from doing what we did. Nor is it a big rug under which we sweep our offenses. It's not a do-over." it's better than a do-over. Paul writes, "Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Follow God's example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. "If God gave you second chances, if He showed up today and let you do it all over again would it solve the problem? Would you be able to sidestep the devil's landmines? Would you be able to avoid the same temptations you so badly regret today? Or would you just be sitting here today with a different batch of bad memories and regrets? We don't need a do-over because we just might make a mess of it. We need forgiveness. 

Forgiveness is better because it lives in reality, not fantasy. God's forgiveness starts by facing the truth. The Israelites had forgotten who they were, so they chased after other gods, lost their homeland, had the temple destroyed, and lived in exile for 70 years. They finally came home, and what did they do? They started doing the same things they had done before. Ezra doesn't make excuses. He doesn't pretend it didn't happen. He's just honest. He lays it all out there. But he's also confident. Because he knows God is merciful. He knows God forgives. In a way of speaking, God had given them a do-over. He had given them back the land and let them rebuild the temple and the walls of the city. And they blew it. But as Ezra appeals to God, he knows he has something better than a do-over. A God who forgives. 

This is the basis of our whole relationship with God. He doesn't ignore our sin and He doesn't give us a do-over. He faces the reality of our sins that drop like bombs on the people He loves more than we ever could. Sins that offend him more than they could ever offend us. And he places it on Jesus. This fragrant offering involved taking a load of guilt that was a stench in the nostrils of our God and placing them upon His holy, innocent, eternal, God-Man Son. And it destroyed Him. Nailed to a cross under a dark afternoon sky, He descended into the depths of our guilt- so we wouldn't have to. For no other reason than to give you something better than a do-over. To forgive you. To remove our regrets, our guilt, and our weight from before God and from off of our shoulders. 

Is there anything better than having that weight removed? When you feel the weight of that guilt hanging above your head, are there more beautiful words than hearing your Savior say to you, "I forgive you. " Is there anything better than looking at the font and seeing something in your past that not only you don't regret but is more a part of your present than anything your regret is? Is there a more comforting feeling than feeling the bread and wine of the Lord's Supper settling in your stomach on a Sunday morning and knowing that through it, you have received all the forgiveness you'll ever need? That forgiveness is the center of our relationship with God. 

That makes an impact. In the Old Testament, it inspired Joseph, who was more wronged by his brothers than anyone I've ever met. Beaten. Thrown into a well. Sold into slavery. The years Joseph should have spent finding a wife and starting a family, he spent as an Egyptian slave and then later in prison. And he had his brothers to thank. Yet when he finally got his moment. When by God's gracious orividence, Joseph interpreted Pharaoh's dreams and was promoted to the highest position in the land of Egypt. When famine Drove Joseph's brothers to come to Egypt to buy grain when they stood before him with nothing, and Joseph had all the power of Egypt at his disposal. He didn't want payback. He didn't beat them, throw them into a well, make them slaves or prisoners. He forgave them. And even when they couldn't forgive themselves. In our past lessons when their father dies, and they think that now Joseph will finally get them. Joseph weeps because all he wants to do is leave it behind. 

"Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us" is a prayer acknowledging that impact. That our entire relationship with God and with each other is based upon forgiveness. To the point that God forgiving us and us forgiving each other is all wrapped up in one another. That's how it has to work. Because if you take that weight of guilt seriously. and if you've had that guilt removed by a God who loves us enough to give us something better than a do-over, but full, free, and unconditional forgiveness. Then what can you do but extend that forgiveness to others? How else can it work?

"Follow God's example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." Kids sound like their parents. You see it when they're this big following around mom and dad, pretending to mow that lawn with their toy lawn mower or to cook with their plastic kitchen. Then we grow up and it doesn't really change. How many times have you been surprised or maybe even a little embarrassed? Just how much would you sound like your mom or your dad? It's no different for us as children of God. We sound just like him. Not by demanding payback or holding standards before the eyes of others that we couldn't possibly live up to. Not even by giving people second chances. But better. By uttering to others those words we have heard from our heavenly Father more times than we can count- The words: I forgive you!"

Amen 

Sermon  by Glenn Stocker