The Sins of Any

Text: John 20:19-31

We live in a world governed by conditions that we create. Things have consequences that we wish to promote or avoid. If you do this, then that will happen. Do that so that this will happen. Do that so it will not. If you do this, we caution others, you will be sorry. If you do that, you will earn rewards.

You have to learn, we tell our children, that behavior has consequences. Grades, raises, special privileges exist to guide us into acting one way and not the other. Punishments and restrictions do the same. So do affection, approval, and respect, which we say you must earn. These are moral and behavioral transactions and contracts which depend on meeting certain conditions. To add a little necessary wiggle room, we sneak in some nepotism, corruption, and other forms of cheating. Or we acknowledge extenuating circumstances, and grant leniency.

At its best, this network of conditions keeps most of us safe and many of us prosperous. It makes systems like traffic, trade, and finance possible. Citizenship and communities. Marriage. But at its worst, it supports tyranny and exploitation, imprisons people for years (or forever) and treats them harshly. Destroys hope and dignity. Corrodes relationships.

So what? The notion that what happens to us should depend on what we do is so basic that it seems absurd to talk about it. If I do the right thing, people will grant me resources, affection, or liberty. Partly, moral conditions sound like physics. One thing follows another. But also, they sound true, right, and fair. A social and moral virtue. We should get what we deserve. Others should get what they deserve. That is how the world works, has worked, and should work.

When Jesus appears in a locked room in which the disciples are cringing in fear, it is clear that something different than usual has happened. Something new. The resurrection of Jesus is not just some personal victory, to be celebrated by his cronies, though it was that, too—they were thrilled. But more, it signifies a change in the world. His appearance not only confirmed his rising. After an initial friendly greeting—peace be with you, he says in the manner of the day—Jesus gets down to business. This is a meeting to equip his followers for the mission ahead. And the equipment he gives them are his life-giving breath, the Holy Spirit, and the power of forgiveness.

If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained. These words, like similar ones in Matthew, give to all the disciples the power to forgive sins. It is this authority, we are taught, that allows pastors to say at the beginning of most Sundays: As a called and ordained minister of the Church of Christ, and by his authority, I declare to you the entire forgiveness of all your sins. And to say, on Maundy Thursday: In obedience to the command of our Lord Jesus Christ I forgive you all your sins.

But the focus here is not on the one who is allowed to say “I forgive you.” Rather it is that the forgiveness of sins by human beings is central to the continuing work of Jesus in the world after his life with us here. Forgiveness of others is an essential part—it is of the essence—of the promised coming of God’s kingdom.

By tradition, this power of forgiving others has been interpreted as spiritual, residing in clergy, in priests and pastors. For example, it is one of the three things mentioned in the ordination rite, along with baptism and Holy Communion, that Lutheran pastors are entrusted with by their ordination. And in that rite, these words in John concerning forgiveness are recited.

But in these words, Jesus speaks to more than just a select few. Throughout this Gospel, when John speaks of the disciples in general (unlike when he speaks specifically of the twelve), he means all the assembled followers. These words of Jesus are delivered here not to some particular priestly ancestors but to spiritual ancestors of all Christians. This is not an attempt on the part of Jesus to grant special clerical privilege. Jesus is conveying a power here, but conveying it to all of us.

This charge to forgive is a hallmark of a new kind of world that God brings in Jesus. It is practical and technical advice. It may have wider and deeper implications, but in the words of this passage this charge is something that the disciples are to do as they live in the world as followers of Jesus. Something we are charged to do. To forgive others.

This is hard to do. Jesus is instructing us to act unconditionally. This goes against the normal ways of the world. Forgiveness breaks the inevitable link between our actions and their consequences. Sins might go unpunished. Wickedness might go without retaliation. Enemies might prevail. Mercy might release people from what they deserve. Someone will get a free pass. An underserved break. We are not sure we want to forgive others. Perhaps it is not a good idea. Perhaps we are not sure we can.

Jesus breathes on the disciples. John uses a word that is a synonym for the breath in Genesis that puts life into the first human. And in Ezekiel for the breath that puts life in those dry bones. It is the root of the word “enthusiasm.” It appears only here in all the New Testament. Jesus is re-animating his followers, giving them new life, as if they were being re-created. Re-born, if you prefer. With this breath they receive the Holy Spirit into them. They are thereby given both motivation and the power to forgive others without condition.

There is a kind of world—a world which we hardly know, but get a glimpse of from time to time when we are forgiven, when someone forgives us for no good reason. Or when we are able to release ourselves from a great burden by forgiving others. Or when we as a culture or nation act in mercy rather than retaining our fear and desire for retribution, or revenge. This is a glimpse of the way of Jesus. The way Jesus sent his disciples on to continue his ministry.

This is not a philosophical virtue but a practical one. May the Holy Spirit that has been breathed into you grant you the desire and power to forgive a particular someone for a particular something. When we forgive others in obedience to the command of our Lord Jesus Christ, we live in the changed world Jesus brings.

The story we just heard about Thomas appears is less about belief than it is about mission. As the Father sent me, Jesus instructs them, so I send you. It is our belief—trust—in Jesus that allows us to follow him confidently into the world, to argue for the forgiveness of sins against us, and to be adamant and courageous in mercy.