Tuesday in the 3rd Week of Lent
Connecting the Dots

Readings: Daniel 3:25, 34-43; Psalm 25:4-5ab, 6 and 7bc, 8-9; Matthew 18:21-35

Few will disagree that forgiveness is among the most difficult of gifts that one human being can offer another. It probably ranks up there with laying down one’s life. Indeed, the process of forgiving someone can even feel like a form of martyrdom. Something in us has to die in order that we might live anew. Mercy doesn’t seem to come naturally to us. The most obvious difficulty has to do with resisting the urge to seek revenge. And, of course, vengeance can be both active as well as passive aggressive.

But even if we do succeed in resisting the urge, there are yet other hurdles to cross. Part of the problem lies in the fact that some of these obstacles can masquerade as true forgiveness. A good example is the apathy that refuses or simply fails to acknowledge, and so ends up condoning and perpetuating, wrongdoing. Witness the battered spouse who has yet to find the courage to stand up to his/ her abuser, or the benighted populace in some countries, that continues to elect crooks to high office simply because it doesn’t know any better. In contrast, true forgiveness is neither ignorance nor self-deception. Rather does it involve a possibly long and complex process of seeing ever more clearly the full extent of the damage done to us – and possibly taking appropriate steps to protect ourselves – but then also letting go both of the hurt, as well as the desire for vengeance.

True forgiveness is not easy. Which is why our readings today are so precious. More than simply imposing upon us the unbearable obligation to forgive, they actually invite us to reflect upon the way that needs to be walked by all who earnestly desire to grow in the ability to offer this gift. This path is a process of remembering. It looks somewhat like a favorite pastime of some children: the exercise of connecting the dots.

Consider Jesus’ parable in the gospel. The king punishes the wicked servant for a very specific reason. Failing to forgive his fellow servant is only part of it. The full extent of his offense can perhaps be described quite simply as a failure of memory, a failure to connect the dots. More specifically, it is the failure to connect the experience of two relationships: the wicked servant’s relationship with God and with his fellow servant. It is the failure to remember that one is a forgiven debtor, and to allow that experience to flow naturally into a desire to write off another’s debt.

The first reading provides a striking contrast to this image of disconnected dots. Consider Azariah’s situation. He is praying in a furnace because he has defied the king of Babylon, bravely choosing to remain faithful to the traditions of his ancestors. Yet, instead of judging those who might be less faithful, Azariah offers a prayer for mercy. He begs for forgiveness because, faithful Jew though he may be, he realizes that he remains connected to his people, and is somehow implicated in their sins. We are reduced… brought low everywhere in the world this day because of our sins… He realizes that God relates to us not just personally but also communally. And his ability to connect the dots in this way is not without benefit. For, in asking forgiveness for his people’s sins, he is also able to rely upon God’s promises to their ancestors. Do not take away your mercy from us, for the sake of Abraham, your beloved, Isaac your servant, and Israel your holy one… Unlike the wicked servant in the gospel, Azariah is able to ask God to remember your mercies, O Lord, because he himself is not forgetful that he is part of a sinful people. He is able to connect the dots.

How might we be helped to do the same today?