 |
 Jack L. Stotts "The Long Arm of Forgiveness" Program #3421 First broadcast March 3, 1991 |
Biography
Dr. Jack Stotts is President of
Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary in Austin, Texas. He served for
a decade as President of McCormick Theological Seminary in Chicago. A
native of Dallas, Dr. Stotts received his theological training at
McCormick Seminary, Yale and Oxford University. Prior to taking on the
presidency of McCormick in 1975, he pastored churches in Connecticut and
in Texas and served as Chaplain at the University of Tulsa. [Biographical information is correct as of the broadcast date noted
above.]
"The Long Arm of Forgiveness" That is, restore us to life together with our fellow human beings.Two verses from Isaiah:
I remember vividly a woman who only remembered the last one of those
verses. "Your iniquities have made a separation/between you and your
God." The year was 1960. The place was Big Spring, Texas, the state
hospital for the mentally ill. I was a young pastor who had driven one
hundred miles to see this person who was a member of my church.
"Behold the Lord's hand is
not shortened, that it cannot save,
Or his ear dull, that it cannot hear;
But your iniquities have made a
separation
Between you and your God,
And your sins have hid his face from you."
Isaiah 59:1, 2.
I was in the visitor's lounge as Mrs. Ross came in, ferried by an
attendant. As she entered, her restless eyes moved from object to object
in the room, finally coming to rest, not looking at me, but looking at
the floor. She was wearing a plain, loose fitting dress -- what we use
to call a housedress; her hair seemed a stranger to a comb and brush,
her hands would not cease that restless kneading.
Even as she inched towards me, I felt her spirit fleeing in the opposite
direction. She did sit down. When she sat down, her posture resembled
nothing so much as that of a cowed dog, afraid of what might happen in
this encounter. I will never forget it.
I did not know what to say. All my pastoral care learnings drained away.
I mumbled who I was, her pastor. But she only went farther away from me.
I tried a different track. "How are you?" I asked, intending words that
would caress, not attack her. Yet another retreat, another withdrawal. I
heard her mumble, "I can't be forgiven; I've done the unpardonable sin,
the unforgivable sin. I can't be forgiven."
Then she stood up. I did so as well. I reached out to put a reassuring
arm around her shoulder, while saying the only thing that came to my
mind: "God loves you." And then she came to life, lashing out at me.
"Didn't you hear me!" she said, "I've committed the unforgivable sin! I
can't be forgiven!" And then tears welled up from wells of loneliness,
anger, despair and guilt.
The attendant came to take her away, her body tremoring with sobs, her
eyes weeping. I did not know what to do nor what to say.
What had she done? What was it in the past that was so enormous that she
felt she could not be forgiven? The doctor told me later no one had been
able to discern that. But this much was clear. So far, no arms had been
long enough to reach her. No word had been kind or direct or wise enough
to comfort her. No medication had been potent enough to heal her.
And I left. As I pressed against the steel bar of the door going out,
all waves of feelings mixed together came to the surface. I remember
them still: a sense of failure, a sense of frustration, a sense of
sadness, a sense of relief to be leaving, frankly, as I went out into
that hot, penetrating and purging sun. But I have never forgotten,
though I never went back, the woman, Mrs. Ross, who said, "I've
committed the unforgivable sin; I cannot be forgiven."
I knew the verse from Matthew's gospel upon which she anchored her
feelings: "Whoever sins against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven,
either in this age or in the age to come." (Matthew 12:32) What that
text fully means, I really do not know. But I wonder, what would I say
to her now? Would it be any different? As I reflect about that, I also
believe the situation that Mrs. Ross was in was an extreme case of a
situation that many of us find ourselves in. We are in a situation where
forgiveness has become a problem, not a remedy.
Listen to what other say about forgiveness and their lack of it. It is
the parent who driving a car too fast has an accident and the son in the
car is killed. "Can anyone -- can God -- forgive me?" the parent
inquires.
Or it is the mother about her daughter, "I'll never forgive her. She has
gone against everything I ever taught her. How could I forgive her?"
Or it is the parent about a child, "I will never forgive God for letting
leukemia kill my child."
For these and maybe countless others, forgiveness has become a problem,
not a remedy. When that happens, all things are turned upside down.
Forgiveness is God's remedy. It is God's remedy for separation. It is
God's remedy for brokenness. It is God's presence and power with us to
restore broken relationships, to heal those who have been separated. It
is God's presence with us in power to overcome what has come between us
and God and others.
Remember the stories, the stories of the Bible about forgiveness. They
are familiar, aren't they? There is the story about a father who
welcomes home a renegade son, a prodigal son, and welcomes the son back
into the home, overcoming separation, restoring brokenness. There is
great joy for forgiveness has come to that house.
There is a story of a woman about to be stoned for adultery and Jesus
writes in the dirt, "Let the one who is without sin cast the first
stone." All walk away for they know themselves to be people all of whom
need forgiveness to be reunited to a different way of life.
There is a thief on the cross who cries out at the very last of his life
and who is promised a relationship of love called heaven, the eternity
with God.
Finally and most powerfully, there is the story about a man on a cross
who said of those who were his enemies, "Father, forgive them, for they
know not what they do."
There is the powerful story. It tells us this: Forgiveness is God's
remedy for brokenness. Forgiveness is God's power with us to overcome
everything that separates us from God, from each other and from
ourselves. Forgiveness is overcoming the separation that arises between
individuals, between person and person, parent and child, between races
and between nations. It is God overcoming our lack, our guilt, our pride
and saying to us, "My arms are long enough to embrace you no matter what
you have done or what you haven't done." God's power of forgiveness.
God's arms are long enough to embrace you, to embrace me, no matter what
we have done.
You see, I could not embrace Mrs. Ross. She would not let me. She would
not let God embrace her. This is the secret. The only unforgivable sin
is the sin of not accepting God's forgiveness. God is there with arms
outstretched to forgive.
Maybe you have been hurt; maybe you hurt someone in years gone by and it
is still a burden to you. There is a brokenness, a separation there.
Listen, God's arms are long enough to reach back into the past to
overcome the burden. Maybe you have been a person who has hidden in the
depths of yourself an enmity, a hostility, to someone else. Listen,
God's arms are long enough to reach back and down into the recesses of
our being to forgive us, to restore us.
Maybe you have run from God to a distant land of self-centeredness.
Listen, God's arms are long enough to bring you home again. For God's
forgiveness is not a problem, it's a remedy for our brokenness, our
separation one from another.
And that is why we pray daily:
Forgive us our sins, our debts, our trespasses -- as we forgive those
who sin against us.
What would I say to Mrs. Ross now? The same thing I say to myself and to
you. Your sins are forgiven. Go in peace. Love all people. Love God by
the power of God's forgiveness.
Interview with Jack
Stotts
Interviewed by David Hardin
David Hardin:
Jack, it occurs to me the difficulty we have with forgiving some people is that
we don't want to forgive them because we think they're not good people. What is
the answer to that?
Jack Stotts: One of the answers is that none
of us are probably worthy of the forgiveness of God. All of us need that
forgiveness. We are brothers and sisters in needing that forgiveness. When it
comes to being a person who forgives, we deal with other human beings just like
ourselves. We all need forgiveness. We are all going to do wrong to each other
and we all need each other's hand reaching out to give us that forgiving word.
Hardin: One of the struggles I had in my own
life was when my wife became seriously ill and ultimately died. My children took
it out on God. They had trouble forgiving God for this kind of behavior. I never
felt I handled it very well. What is the answer to that?
Stotts: I think none of us would handle that
very well. You are not alone in that. There is a sense in which that is healthy
and God allows that to happen. We get angry at God. Job got angry at God, didn't
he? It is in the frustration and the venting of anger that we hear the good word
of God, that He loves all people, including those who are your loved ones, no
matter what their condition, whether in life or in death. That is God's word
which comforts us all.
Hardin: I think it is important to remember
that God can handle that.
Stotts: That's right.
Hardin: It's not a big deal.
Stotts: It's a big deal for us, though,
isn't it? For God it is something that is part of God's own heart. At least that
is the way I think it is.
Hardin: It's been wonderful having you with
us. Thanks a lot.