Showing posts with label Forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Forgiveness. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Matthew 18:22: Apologize Often, Forgive Freely

Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity - Hanlon's Razor

There is malice. There is stupidity. Don't mix them up.

When David writes, "They repay me evil for good, and hatred for my friendship." (Ps. 109:5), it sounds familiar.  Stories told and words misquoted. Merit ignored or squashed. Helpfulness spat upon. Plans ridiculed. We all maintain a catalog of offenses against us, indexed by time, person and subject matter. The worst ones are those calculated deliberately to hurt.

Once a restaurant featured their special of the day on a large sign outside-a mouthwatering entree at an attractive price. How sad was the face of the waiter who came to tell me that there was a mistake and the special was not available

Likewise, how humbling to find that among my cataloged entries of offenses, there was no malice at all, merely ignorance? I had been holding on to my anger, nursing it along, the pages of that catalog entry dog-eared from my repeated recollections. Only to find that there was no ill-will, just ill-conceived, or ignorant or, at worst, thoughtless. How much time and energy was wasted.

Worse, I know that I have often been misunderstood because I am dumb or tactless or blind. I also know how difficult it has been to convince the other person (or people) of my sheer stupidity. I get it. It is energizing about holding on to that anger and that sense that they were wrong and I was right. Giving that up leaves my pain, in some sense, unaccounted for.

But because I am so prone to it myself, I came up with this phrase to reinforce a best practice in my life: Apologize often; forgive freely. 

I recognize that I make mistakes--foolish, unintentional, hurtful mistakes-all the time. Or I suspect that I do, but am not sure. So I'd better just apologize often and up front to defuse hurt feelings. Preemptive apologizing.

I also realize that others do the same to me. Rather than speculate on their motives. Rather than presume malice. So I will forgive freely. In Jesus' bookkeeping terms:
I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times. - Matthew 18:22
However, this week, I realized that my habit was fraying. Situations were left with forgiveness unspoken and apologies unoffered. I didn't realize it until I was reading a bishop's sermon in the detective novel, Precious and Grace, where he says: "My brothers and sisters: do not be afraid to profess forgiveness."[1]

The word "afraid" struck me. Yes, I had become afraid. Unwilling. Stubborn. Needing to go back to Jesus and tell him I'd been hoarding his forgiveness and not extending it to others. Afraid to give up feeling wronged, so that I could feel I was right.

The word "profess" challenged me to say the words. "It is forgiven." Not just rid from my heart, but making it all the way to my lips. "It is finished."

How about you? Are you tightfisted with your apologies or your forgiveness? Me, too. But let us apologize often today, and forgive freely today. As Jesus prayed:
Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us. - Luke 11:4



[1] Alexander McCall Smith, Precious and Grace

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Romans 8:28-39: Love Conquers All

Love Conquers All
(Romans 8:28-39)

Introduction (vs. 28-30)

What is heaven like? (wait for response)

Why would God mess up his heaven with us? (love)

So what’s he going to do about it? Can he do anything about it?

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

The genius of God is his ability to take the worst situations and repurpose them for good. He does do it. He is doing it. For those who love him.

For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.

Before you and I were born, before the Earth began, before we were even able to love Him, God was planning to love us. That’s what “predestined” refers to—God’s unchanging plan to love you and me.  God wants to be in a loving relationship with us.

God’s love leads to his desire to be close to him. He works for the good of those “who have been called.” “…those he predestined, he also called.” God wants us to be close to him, so he calls.

But now we come to that problem again: If heaven were populated with us, the way we are now, it would not be heaven. We would drag heaven down. Do you honestly think that progress has or ever will fundamentally change the problems we have, human to human? Do you think that putting us in a perfect place, with no wants or worries, would eliminate hatred, hurt, jealously, selfishness? Wait, that’s been tried before, in a place called Eden.

Nonetheless, God’s love will not be blocked. God’s plan is not primarily about getting us to heaven—God’s plan is about making us fit for heaven so that we don’t ruin it. Look at what it says: “…he also predestined us to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.” He doesn't just want to be your God. He wants to be your family. By every means at His disposal, he is changing you to be like your kuya (elder brother) Jesus. God wants us to be like Jesus. Heaven is the family reunion. Almighty God is using every resource He has to bring you into His family. God wants us to be family to him.  And here’s the crazy part: God made you part of His family before you acted like someone who should be a part of his family, with the full confidence that you will grow up to be just like Jesus. 

Looking around this room and looking the mirror, God’s view seems just a bit naive. I mean, just look at us. You know at the wedding, when the pastor or priest asks “if anyone knows of any reason why this man and this woman should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold you peace.”? When you say God loves you and you love God, someone is bound to raise their hand and say, “Excuse me, I have a few objections.” What are those objections?
  • Opposition. You are not strong enough.
  • Accusation. You are not good enough. 
  • Labels. You are hopeless. 
  • Separation. You are too weak.

The Opposition Says: You Are Not Strong Enough (vs. 31, 32)

If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?

God loves us. God calls us. We make the first step. Then there’s the backlash. Then there’s the fallout. We have built up a lifetime of habits that reinforce the cycle of trying, hope and then disappointment. Our friends, our neighbors, our colleagues, our communities have built up a comfortable relationship with those habits.   Those habits, those patterns, those friends, those supports threaten to fall away. Fear speaks to us and says: you won’t make it.

When we start to move in response to God’s call on us, we find that the pattern of our life fights against us. This is the opposition.

God’s love says: You are weak, but I am strong enough for both of us.

The Accusation Says: You Are Not Good Enough. (vs.33)

Be honest:  have you ever seen your kids do something embarrassing, and turned to your spouse and said: “Anak mo iyan.” (that’s your kid!) Or have you ever seen your parents do something embarassing and turned to your siblings and said, “Kamaganak ba namin?” (are we related to them?)

As God changes us, making us like his son Jesus, there are failures. Not just mistakes. Failures. Not just set backs. Failures. Then there rises up the accuser say: if you were really the son or daughter of God, like you claim, you would never act like that, or think that or fail like that. Do you think Jesus would approve? Paul writes:

Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies.

There was a story about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the author of the Sherlock Holmes novels, in the Washington Post many years ago.

"I heard Dr. Conan Doyle tell a good story during a trip I made to London last winter," said George D. Aldrich at the Arlington last night. "He said that at a dinner party he had attended the guests began discussing the daily discoveries made to the detriment of people occupying high stations in life and enjoying the confidence of the business world. Dr. Doyle said that it had always been his opinion that there was a skeleton in the closet of every man who had reached the age of forty. This led to a lot of discussion, some of the guests resenting the idea that there was no one who had not in his past something that were better concealed. As a result of the controversy, Dr. Doyle said, it was suggested that his views as to family skeletons be put to the test. The diners selected a man of their acquaintance whom all knew only as an upright Christian gentleman, whose word was accepted as quickly as his bond and who stood with the highest in every respect. 'We wrote a telegram saying 'All is discovered; flee at once" to this pillar of society,' said Dr. Doyle, 'and sent it. He disappeared the next day and has never been heard from since.'"[1]

God does not accept any accusation against us, because he has already changed our status from guilty to acquitted. There is no secret that will be uncovered and no accusation so shocking that it will change God’s mind because he knows it but has chosen to not hold it against us.
God’s love says: You are good enough, because I say so. Nothing will ever make me love you more. Nothing will ever make me love you less. You are family

The Labels Say: You Are Hopeless (vs. 34)

You will always be like that. The gavel comes down…bang! You don’t have to wear an orange jumpsuit. You now wear a label, whether official or unofficial, and it changes the way people treat you.  That label defines who you are.
Perhaps you struggled with finances, your spending was out of control, and then, too soon, the debt is compounding with interest and penalties and you have no hope. Creditors are calling you. No one lends you money. You are labeled a bad investment. That’s what you expect people to see.
Perhaps your relationship just gets worse and worse. You said things. He said things. Angry words. Mean words. Hurtful words. Now every conversation seem to push the same buttons and ends in a fight. You are labeled a failed marriage. That’s what you expect people to see.

It doesn’t take a judge to give you a label. We carry around a whole jury box in our heads, filled with voices who tell us: You are a _____ (you fill in the blank). Talagang ganiyan ka. Maybe it’s your parents. Maybe it is those teachers. Maybe it was those kids at school. They have pronounced judgment. Addict. Alcoholic. Liar. Betrayer. Mean. Failure. Loser.  And very often they are right. If you had a journal from where you listed out your struggles, would the entries today be similar to those 10 years ago? We can feel hopeless.

But Paul writes a different story:

Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.

The voices around us tell us: you will always be like this.  What you are is what you will always be. You can’t escape your situation in life and you can’t escape your own bad habits.  That is what the world promises. Paul notes that Jesus died. Like everyone else. But then something strange happened. They went to the grave of Jesus on the third day and there was no dead body, because he broke the pattern of death and established a new precedent—he was raised to life. He pioneered something new.

You are not stuck with the label. That’s what Paul says: “Who then is the one who condemns?” Who judges, who assigns labels? Jesus has a new label for those who trust him—not a label of failure or disappointment or misfortune—no, the title he has given you is: son or daughter of the Most High God.

Now live like it. Are you struggling to make a name for yourself? Or are you rejoicing in the name Jesus has given us?

Those other failures? Yes, they are things you did, but they are not who you are, because Jesus is interceding for us.  

        So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus. - Romans 8:1

--Forgiveness Interlude--
How can he do this? Sure, he wasn’t condemned because he was the perfect man. But he wasn’t just the perfect man, he is also the perfect God. This is important, because we are condemned to feel the results of the curse—death and failure—because we have offended God—hurt him. But God forgave our sin when Jesus took the pain upon himself. How?

When one person forgives another, it does not mean that there is no hurt and pain. It does not mean that it goes away or is forgotten. Rather, when one person forgives another, they take—carry--the hurt on themselves instead of requiring that the one who hurt them pay the penalty. Jesus’s suffering on the cross was the visible and tangible effect of God forgiving us. To forgive us, he took the pain on himself rather than requiring we pay ourselves.
--Forgiveness Interlude--

God’s love says: You are not hopeless, because you are who I say you are.

The Separation Says: You Are Too Weak (vs. 35-37)

Can I still have a meaningful life for God, with all of the bad things that have happened? We have wasted so much time with problems, so much energy with sickness and paying the rent, that there seems that there is nothing left for a relationship with God.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

Rick Hoyt Illustration
When Rick Hoyt was born, the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, cutting off oxygen to his brain.  He also had celebral palsy, meaning he can't control most of his movements.  The doctors told his parents to put him in an institution, because he would never walk, never write, never talk --they said he'd pretty much be "a vegetable" all his life.
His parents refused.  As he grew a bit older, they thought they detected intelligence in his eyes.  They sent him to public school.  When he was 11, they took him to Tufts University and asked some engineers there if there was a way to help him communicate.  The engineers didn't want to waste their time, so they asked for proof of his intelligence.  Dick said, "Tell him a joke," They did, and he laughed!  They built him a machine that let him type by tapping a stick with his head.
When Rick was in high school, a classmate of his was paralyzed in an accident.  The family couldn't afford the medical bills, so the school organized a 5-mile race to raise money.  Rick typed out "Dad, I want to do that."  At the time, his father, Dick was in pretty bad shape.  He pushed Rick in his wheelchair for the 5 miles, but he was sore for the next two weeks.  But at the end of the race, Rick typed out "Dad, when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!"
That sentence changed their lives.  Dick decided he was going to give Rick that feeling as much as he could.  He started training to get into shape.  In 1979, he felt he was ready to try pushing Rick in the Boston Marathon. "No way," said a race official.  But eventually, years later, Dick was in such good shape that they made the runner's qualifying time (even pushing a wheelchair)!

After that, someone suggested they do a triathlon:  swim 2 miles, bike 112 miles, and then run a 26-mile marathon!

As of January 2014, they'd competed in 70 marathons (best time 2:40:47), 247 triathlons, and numerous other races, including running across the country. [2]

The truth is that many things separate us from the love of Christ. But nothing separates the love of Christ from us.

Conclusion: God’s Love Wins, If You Let It (vs. 38-39)

When I proposed to Helen in the Philippines in early 1989, I had been doing my research. The little that I’d learned about Filipino culture taught me that if I was going to profess my love to her, and she was to accept that, that this was not a dating relationship, but rather the start of a relationship that naturally culminated in marriage. At the same time, the little that Helen had learned about American culture, mostly from a few American missionaries and American movies, was that professions of love were thrown around like water balloons, fat, gushy and easily broken. In fact, while I was calling in “being engaged” she insisted in calling it her “experiment.”

So we plotted a course forward together, because we loved each other, but I was returning to the U.S. only four months later. Because we were both trying to finish are studies, we knew that it would be a long time before we could see each other again. So we wrote to each other daily, and my heart always jumped when I saw the air-mail envelope with the Philippines stamps show up in my mail box. And we could afford to talk on the phone once a month. But that was no substitute for being together.

There were those who said this wasn’t a good idea. The mission agency had a policy against short-term workers getting in relationships. Helen had to defend her choice to those to whom she had told that her “beauty was not for foreigners.” I had to explain to my parents that I’d gotten engaged to someone I’d met overseas. We had to convince my pastor that our marriage would really be a good idea. Helen had to convince a U.S. embassy worker that her coming her was not some sort of marriage fraud.

You can imagine that Helen was somewhat perturbed when I reported to her that the one other girl who I had ever dated (Heather) called me shortly after my return and asked me if I wanted to go out. I hope you told her “No” she said later. Later, when I mentioned another girl, Angela who was a class mate in debate class and who had the extreme misfortune to be dating another guy whose name was Tim, Helen wrote me in no uncertain terms to never speak with her again.
There was this assumption (rightly so) that my relationship with Helen would preclude certain types of relationships with other women. And she was very insistent. 

Then there was this assumption that she would do likewise and one day, come to me. Because that’s what love does. Love acts as one even when separated. Love compels us to find a way to be together. Nearly two years later, she arrived on American soil and in my home church, we were married. We were no longer two separate people, we one.

God’s plan has always been that we should be with him, that his family should be united together. He has made the arrangements, he has spent everything, and he has worked out every detail. He is acting as though it is a fact.

Look at what Paul said:

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

This love of God has to very practical implications:

  1. We can be courageous because we are children of God. Our status is not failure. Our status is beloved of God. So many times we react out of fear. Fear of being hurt. Fear of failing. Fear of missed opportunity. No! The courageous child of God runs forward because know that the outcome is in the hands of a Father who loves them.
  2. We communicate our love to God by how we help people in need. When we were apart, Helen and I were desperate for letters or phone calls or once in a long while, a special treat was a package. How we treasured those? If you are truly part of this family relationship with God, how do you communicate like that? God seems so far away. Yes, you can pray. That’s like those letters and phone calls. But do you want to send him a love gift? Jesus told us: ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’’ Helping those who are weary, hurting and helpless-is a special package that Jesus receives with joy.
There was a period during our writing back and forth to each other where I noticed that Helen had started to say, “if we get married.” And I said, “What do you mean ‘If’? You should say ‘When we get married.’” But she wasn’t sure. Too many worries, too many doubts. It was when I sent her the money for her to buy her wedding dress that she moved from ‘if’ to ‘when’

Jesus has paid. God has said, it is not ‘if we are together’ God’s love will bring us all together, it is ‘when we are together’




[1] www.teamhoyt.com, retrieved on March 1, 2014
[2] About Team Hoyt, teamhoyt.com, http://www.teamhoyt.com/about/index.html (accessed June 6, 2010)
[3] Men Met in the Hotel Lobbies, The Washington Post, 16 June 1901, p. 18, as cited on http://message.snopes.com/showthread.php?t=19954 retrieved on March 1, 2014

Thursday, March 29, 2012

One Left Forgiven (Luke 7:36-50)

One Left Forgiven
Luke 7:33-50

Introduction: How Much  Do Things Cost

[Pride, when I first went to Helen’s office, her initial impression of me was extremely negative because of my pride. Eventually, I discovered what a fascinating person Helen was, I had to change, otherwise there was no hope.]

We’ve been slowly working our way through the book of Luke, that story of Jesus’ life found in the Bible. One thing is clear about Jesus: he was never boring. I am always amazed in movies about Jesus’ life that he appears about as interesting as plastic pizza: he walks stiffly, he talks in a monotone. But that’s not what I see when I read the Bible: I see a man of intensity; I see a man of passion; I see a man who laughs and is amazed and cries and spills over tables. And if you read the life of Jesus, there was one thing that consistently ticked Jesus off. And there was another thing that was consistently praised by Jesus. Let’s see if you can pick them out of this section of Jesus’ biography, in Luke, chapter 7:
Now one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, so he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.
When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”
Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.” “Tell me, teacher,” he said.
“Two men owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he canceled the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”
Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt canceled.”
“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.
Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet.  Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.”
Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”
The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”
Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”  

Here is the key idea of what I’m going to say today: How much you feel you need God controls what kind of person you become.
Two people came to Jesus that day, but only one left forgiven.
Let’s step back here and look at what is going on at this point in Jesus’ ministry. John the Baptizer is in prison for publicly denouncing the king’s—Herod’s—marriage to his brother’s wife. And that is really the trigger for the beginning of Jesus’ public role. Immediately, people begin to compare them: Oh, John was like this and Jesus is like this. John dresses in sack cloth, and Jesus dresses in nice clothes (remember, they gambled at Jesus’ death to see who would get his clothes). John eats locusts and Jesus eats steak. John gets away from the sinners, but Jesus eats with the sinners. John’s disciples are very careful religiously but Jesus’ are uneducated and not so careful. Lots of comparisons. Lots of comparisons. Kind of like the Republican nomination. Every detail about what they say, what they do, who they hang out with and even who likes what they say. Lots of comments. And they had two different styles of ministry: John called them out to the desert, Jesus went into their homes. And both John and Jesus were criticized. Jesus was criticized by Fox News for being too liberal and John was criticized by CNN for being too conservative.
This is the background when Jesus gets a dinner invitation from the local religious leader, Simon, a Pharisee. The Pharisees were both a political and a religious group. They were sure that the reason God wasn’t blessing Israel was because the people were not being careful about obeying God’s laws. They felt that the reason the Romans had come in and stomped on their freedom was because they weren’t serious enough about the law. And, if they were serious enough about the law, then God would have to come in and rescue them. Have to. So they spent a lot of time watching their neighbors and politicians and rabbis to see if those neighbors and politicians and rabbis were the reason God hadn’t come to the rescue.
Now, Simon probably heard about Jesus and his miracles, and wants to see for himself—to see if Jesus is the real thing. Perhaps he met the rabbi Jesus at the city gate and invited him in for dinner, or perhaps heard Jesus speak at the synagogue. In those days, for dinner, they would have reclined on a couch, like a day bed, with their food on low tables in front of them.  Simon would be at the center and then Jesus at his right hand and all the disciples and many guests arranged around them to the right and left. They would eat, and talk, and discuss the urgent topics of the day.
Two people came to Jesus that day, but only one left forgiven.

If you don’t feel like you need God, you will become proud.

I imagine Simon was feeling pretty good about himself, the important miracle-working rabbi having dinner in his house. But, as this is all going on Simon notices that a woman, a woman who he recognizes, both by sight and by reputation comes in and makes an incredible display. Let’s look at it again:
…she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.
We don’t know how she heard Jesus or what it was he said, but we do know that when she heard that Jesus was dining with Simon, she had to go. She had to get closer to Jesus. She was not an invited guest. She knows her own past. She knows her reputation in town. But she has to come close to Jesus. And he doesn’t care what they think. She must get close.
But how can she get close? She notices that Jesus feet are dirty. She notices that no one else has offered this act of hospitality to Jesus. So she takes the job that was normally given to the lowest house slave, to wash the feet of the guests.  But she doesn’t care what job it is, as long as she can get close.
But how can she do the job of the slave? She has no basin for the water, so she wets Jesus feet with her tears. She has no towel, so she dries them with her hair. Everything she had, even her expensive perfume, which had been reserved for her shameful lifestyle was now re-purposed and dedicated to Jesus. She needed Jesus and she was willing to take on the role of a slave, expose herself to ridicule and give even the most precious of what she had, to be close to Jesus.
Contrast her with Simon:
I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, ... You did not give me a kiss, …. You did not put oil on my head
Simon, he has the house, he has the friends, he has the water, he has the oil, he has the rabbi. But they were tools to make him look good—to redirect the attention to him. He thought he was the one doing the favor for Jesus.
He didn’t feel like he needed Jesus, so he became proud. Just like us. If we don’t feel like we need God, we will become proud. Everything starts being out me, myself and I. Even our relationship with God can be like that: “God, help me (I deserve it). God, use me (I’m the most qualified).”
Two people came to Jesus that day, but only one left forgiven.

If you don’t feel like you need God, you will become judgmental.

So Simon notices what is going on, and here’s what he starts to think:
“If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”
When you don’t need God, you start to set yourself up as the judge and jury of the people around you. First, he judges Jesus: “If this man were a prophet…” He is saying, I am a connoisseur of prophets and frankly, I’m disappointed. I give him a D-. He went down his own checklist of “prophet product features” Then his pride moves it: “How clever I am to detect a fake prophet. Can’t fool me!” Here is Jesus, sitting to dinner with him and he can’t see it. Why? Because he has put God in a box. He has stopped watching what God is doing, because he thinks he’s got it all figured out. But God is not tame. God is a God of surprises who makes fun of those who think they know it all.
But Simon doesn’t stop there. Next, he comments on the woman’s character: “what kind of woman she is” What is the hidden assumption behind this statement? The hidden assumption is that he is better than her. If we asked Simon, he would list all the good things he has done. Pharisees were known for their careful attention to God’s laws. Pharisees were known for their careful behavior. Pharisees were known for fasting and praying and giving money.
But we all need God. If we don’t feel like we need God, we become judgmental, because we ask “How can they be like that…” But no one can please God without his help. None of us is better. Even if, by God’s grace, we start to make progress in our lives, even if we start to erase some of the old habits, even if we start showing the fruit of the Spirit, we can’t take credit for it because it is solely sourced from God’s grace. When we start taking credit for it, we start ranking the people of the world, with us somewhere near the top (under Jesus, Moses and Mother Theresa) but certainly better than them.
Two people came to Jesus that day, but only one left forgiven.

If you don’t feel like you need God, you will become unloving.

Jesus hears Simon’s snide comments. Hard to hide what you’re thinking from the Son of God. And, as he often did, Jesus used a story (a type of parinig)to get his point across. The story was about two men who found themselves in a difficult situation: they owed money. One owed more than one month’s pay; the other owed more than one year’s pay. Now the day comes for them to repay the banker, but they cannot pay. But on that day, there is a surprise: the banker cancels the debt. Both men had walked into that banker’s office under an unpayable burden of debt and now both are free.
So Jesus turns to Simon and asks a question:
“Now which of them will love him more?”
Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt canceled.”
“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.
“I suppose”?! “I suppose”?!  Jesus goes on to describe how Simon had snubbed him: not even offering the standard elements of Jewish hospitality: a kiss on the cheek, the ceremonial washing of the feet, the anointing with oil. And Jesus finishes ripping apart Simon with these words:
But he who has been forgiven little loves little.
If we feel like we don’t need God, we become unloving. Love does not come from a position of strength—it comes from recognition of a shared position of weakness. It comes from a recognition that stand equally in need of God’s love and grace. That position of weakness lets us love God because we see how much we have been given. That position of weakness lets us love other people more, because I recognize that we share that we share that weakness, that we share the desperation of grace, that we share the same potential of renewal and revival.
Two people came to Jesus that day, but only one left forgiven.

If you don’t feel like you need God, you won’t get him.

Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” 
Randy Frazee, pastor of Pantego Bible Church in Fort Worth, Texas, shared this story:
I remember seeing a picture of a husband and wife in a gentleman's office. I said, "Nice picture." I turned around and looked at the man, and he had tears in his eyes. So I asked him, "Why are you crying?"
He said, "There was a time in our marriage when I was unfaithful to my wife, and she found out about it. She was so deeply hurt and injured she was going to leave me and take the kids with her. I was overwhelmed at the mistake I had made, and I shut the affair down. I went to my wife in total brokenness. Knowing I did not deserve for her to answer in the affirmative, I asked her to forgive me. And she forgave me.
"This picture was taken shortly after that. When I see this picture, I see a woman who forgave me. I see a woman who was willing to stand with me in this picture. So when you see this picture you say, 'Nice picture.' But when I see this picture I see my life given back to me again."[1]
You can choose who you want to be in this story:
You can choose to be one like one of the other guests—the crowd. Notice what they say: “Who is this who even forgives sins?” What they mean is: we can accept a miracle worker (he provides our needs), we can accept a rabbi (he is a wise teacher), but we can’t accept Jesus is the forgiver of sins. Jesus will not accept a demotion, from a holy God to a mere preacher or miracle worker. The Bible tells us that we all need forgiveness (“we have all sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”). But if you don’t feel like you need that forgiveness, then you won’t get God.
You can choose to be like Simon. “I think I’ve got this religious thing under control.” Didn’t need a disruptive God. Give yourself this test: am I more irritable? Am I more impatient?  Those are signs that you are trying to earn the favor of someone who is willing to give it willingly. (Rom 8:2, Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.”
You can choose to be like the woman.  She doesn’t have it all together. But she does know that she must be close to Jesus. “It does not depend, therefore, on man’s desire or effort, but on God’s mercy.” (Rom. 9:16)
O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water. – Psalm 63:1

Peace, love, joy result.

Two people came to Jesus that day, but only one left forgiven.





[1] Randy Frazee, pastor of Pantego Bible Church, Fort Worth, Texas, from sermon preached 6-24-01, "Uncommon Confessions"