On November 30, 2018 Botham Jean was sitting in his Dallas apartment enjoying a bowl of ice cream when an off duty police officer, Amber Guyger, entered the apartment, firing two fatal shots into the victim’s chest. The incident received national news coverage for numerous reasons. For one, the racial overtones of a white police officer killing an unarmed black man innocently sitting in his living room is disturbingly haunting. For another, the inconsistent testimony of Guyger who said on the one hand that the door was locked and her key didn’t work, but on the other hand said the door was ajar when she entered the apartment. How she mistook his apartment for hers is suspect at best. Then, Guyger was initially charged with only manslaughter until public outcry forced a second investigation leading to murder charges, to which she was eventually convicted in a court of law. And finally, what is to be made of the marijuana found on the counter of the victim’s apartment, and what was the purpose of releasing that detail to the public?
The day Gugyer was sentenced to serve her ten year incarceration, the courtroom and the TV audience witnessed something that left people in shock and awe. Perry Mason, Ben Matlock, and Jack McCoy never dreamed of this unfolding in their TV courtrooms as the world was flipped upside down in a simple moment of time.
Botham’s little brother, Brandt, looked at Guyger and said, “I forgive you.” Not the usual words spoken by a victim and heard in the sentencing phase of a murder trial, but Brandt spoke them nonetheless.
Not stopping at forgiveness, he continued, “I know if you got to God and ask him he will forgive you.” Brandt proceeded, for instead of heaping on more pain and guilt, he said, “I love you and I am not gonna say ‘I hope you rot and die just like my brother did,’ but I presently want the best for you . . . and the best would be to give your life to Christ.” If jaws weren’t dropped to the floor by now, they were when he looked at the judge and asked if he could hug Guyger. And hug they did for over a minute.
I’m not sure the depth of forgiveness is in me, maybe it’s because “my will and my flesh gets weak.”* Brandt’s words and actions were scrutinized, and placed under the microscope. How could he white wash the injustice with forgiveness and a hug? But then again, if he didn’t forgive, we’d begin to wonder, “How can love survive in such a graceless age.”*
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Somebody once said that “God has a thing for runaway lambs.” He’ll leave, even abandon, the ninety-nine to search for the one that is lost, untangling him from thorn bushes, and retrieving him from ditches. With ointment as a balm he will pour onto the wounds to prevent infection and to bring healing. He heals, and through his grace, he forgives. God forgives, “forgiveness, forgivenss, even if (we) don’t love (him) anymore.”*
The church is a place where forgiveness is experienced. The church is a place where we experience mutual forgiveness. We extend forgiveness to those around us. We also receive forgiveness because we ourselves are the runaway lambs.
Corinth was trying to navigate its way through the maze of forgiveness, just like we do. When someone violated and broke social or biblical boundaries, discipline was enacted. When that same person repented, it was time to welcome him back through the cleansing waters of forgiveness. Walking in both discipline and forgiveness is muddy and messy at best.
In 2 Corinthians 2 Paul implores the church to extend grace and forgiveness to a disciplined member who had caused him and the church great harm. The identity of the member is much debated. Clearly, the Corinthians knew who he was and the sin he committed, while Paul’s decision to omit his name may be an act of protective grace. He won’t shame him anymore. We, on the other hand, struggle to figure out who this guy is and what grievous sin he committed.
Some believe he is the immoral man sleeping with his stepmother from 1 Corinthians 5:1-5. It makes for a great repentant “happily ever after” story. A man’s sin is off the rails and to protect the church, Paul tells them to release him to his sin. He repents and Paul encourages the church to welcome him back into the fold. We love that narrative, and I’ve even preached it before. Unfortunately, this story ignores that two years had passed between First and Second Corinthians was written, and a lot can happen between the two letters. A lot did happen between the two letters.
The second option is to allow the immediate context of 2 Corinthians to identify the man. Paul knows this man has caused grief, not only to the whole group (v. 5), but more so to the apostle himself, which sounds far more personal than the situation in 1 Corinthians 5. If Paul had made a trip to Corinth, which he calls “painful” (2:1), and then writes a letter out of “distress, anguish, and tears” (2:4). So, this member was likely the one who led the insurrection, who stood against Paul and numbered himself with the antagonists who infiltrated the church.
Can you imagine a church setting where one is publically embarrassed, humiliated, and shamed while the rest of the church stood by in silence? I can. It’s “group dynamics.” They watched and refused to intervene – likely standing paralyzed by the whole ordeal – while one of their own attacked the apostle who brought them the gospel. If Paul hadn’t baptized them, he was there when they were baptized. Now they were not just rejecting him, but more likely running him out of town. In their own definition of truth and loyalty to Jesus, they discarded the very ambassador of Christ.
Back in Ephesus, Paul writes a letter, which he reaffirms his love for them. More than that, he outlines in no uncertain terms his expectation of them as a church and representatives of the gospel (2:4, 7:8-13). It worked. They repented and the one who stood against Paul repented too. Like a juicy burger wrapped in bacon, the beauty of the gospel is wrapped in forgiveness. In fact, the need to put a cap on the punishment of the offender as Paul is worried about the long-term effect of punishment (v. 6) is only surpassed by the grace of forgiveness offered by Paul and the church.
A couple of reasons seem to drive Paul’s desire for forgiveness. Personally, Paul wants harmony and healing in the church. He’s not a dictator trying to divide and conquer. He does not want people taking sides, digging in their heels for a power play. His message is, and always has been, reconciliation and hope for a united church.
Secondly, we seek forgiveness because Satan himself seeks to fuel division and resentment in the church (v. 11). Satan abhors reconciliation, either in your church, or with your friends, or in your home, or with your spouse. To thwart his plan, we forgive. To keep him from getting a foothold in our lives, we reconcile. To embrace the love of Christ, we affirm our love for each other. And that gets to the heart of the matter.
Somewhere around 1988 Don Henley of the Eagles and JD Souther were drawn together by a similar pain. Both men were engaged to be married. Both men discovered their fiancés were cheating on them. Both men carried the scars of their breakup with them, trying to get their heads wrapped around the betrayal.
About that time Mike Campbell, from the band Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, wrote music he believed Don Henley might collaborate with him to add lyrics to the music. Henley agreed and called Souther for further collaboration. They sat down together to begin to write. They allowed the song to begin the healing process for their soul, and along the way they got to the heart of the matter, they got to the heart of the gospel.
“I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the Heart of the Matter ● But my will gets weak ● And my thoughts seem to scatter ● But I think it’s about forgiveness ● Forgiveness ● Even if, even if you don’t love me anymore.”
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)
* Don Henley and JD Souther, The Heart of the Matter, 1989.