Go God

Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, Virginia
Proper 19, Year A
September 13, 2020
 
It is wonderfully comforting and inspiring to be part of something really big and positive.
 
As many of you know, I grew up in Athens, Georgia, the son of a professor at the University of Georgia.  Athens is a lot, like Charlottesville, except it is bigger.  Whereas UVA has 21 thousand students, Georgia has 38 thousand.  When school is in session, the town is electric.
 
Then, there is football season.  On seven fall Saturdays a year, it seems like the whole world comes to Athens.  Georgians are rabid about their football fandom.  They call themselves the Bulldog Nation.  The stadium seats more than 93 thousand fans and there are an equal number of folks are tailgating out on lawns and in parking lots within a mile or so of the stadium.  Everyone cheers for the dogs.  Everyone wears red and black.  Everyone shares a language and speaks in a common voice: “Go dogs.”  Depending on your provenance, you can spell dogs normally, or with a w in there, and for emphasis you can add a “woof, woof.”
 
“Go dogs” is not just a cheer.  It is a statement of belonging, of hope, and of commitment.  One speaks it as a greeting.  One speaks it as a farewell.  It is intoned on the streets as greeting among intimate friends and hospitality for complete strangers.  It is spoken in the school carpool line, in the check-out line, and, even, at the end of prayer.
 
All are welcome in the Bulldog Nation.  All you have to do is proclaim that you belong and you are in.  I did not attend the University of Georgia, but it is no matter, I pull for the dogs and that is the only passport needed. 
 
Being in the stadium on gameday is a nothing else like it experience.  There is ritual, tradition, pageantry, special music, and lots of full-throated screaming.  Go dogs.  C’mon dogs.  Sic ‘em dogs. Hold ‘em dogs.  How ‘bout them dawgs.  I know of few places where people gather from countless ethnic backgrounds, divergent perspectives, the broad swath of political persuasions, and people of all ages and stages in life, united around one event, pulling in the same direction.   It is a modern sociological miracle.
 
I will leave the arguments about the massive amounts of money involved, the really expensive single use facilities, and the distractions from true academic pursuits to others.   What we experience on gameday is rare, needed, and fulsome unity.  And that is in short supply these days.  The experience is a lot like church – or really, a spirit filled revival in a massive outdoor cathedral.
 
The metaphor between fandom and faith is not exact, and both can be idolatrous when taken to extremes, but it is not a bad lens for the world Jesus seeks to build through today’s gospel.
 
Once again Peter plays the straight man, asking how many times he should forgive a fellow member of the church.  This is a big statement as the church is a new idea and membership is wide open to all who follow, so really, Peter is asking about how much we should accept and allow from others.  He lobs up a big number: “seven times?”  And Jesus says nope, seventy times that – really a number beyond counting.  Then, he tells a completely hyperbolic tale of a king who forgives a slave of an enormous debt that he could never pay in a thousand lifetimes.  Afterall, he is a slave.  But the slave goes and demands repayment from someone who owes him a relatively small sum: a few hundred bucks.  And he will not let it go.  The king is outraged.  How could one who was forgiven of so much, not, out of sheer gratitude, forgive as he has been forgiven.  It does not end well for the slave.
 
It is an unusual and fantastical story told to drive home an essential message.  We are all beneficiaries of a generous, loving, creative, and forgiving God.  We are not perfect.  We fall short.  We are capable of so much destruction and division, but we are capable of so much love as we lean into belonging with God.
 
Forgiveness is difficult, especially when wounds fester and memories of being done wrong linger.  Resentments are hard to carry and they are heavy burdens for the one who is harmed.  In AA, it is said that a carrying resentment is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.  The story Jesus tells gives us perspective.  It gives us direction.  It gives us a way forward.  Rather than hanging on to when and how we have been done wrong, we can pivot completely and focus on where we are done right, which is large.
 
Jesus shows us and tells us that we are beloved.  We belong to the immensity of God.  We are beautiful, and capable, and plenty enough for this world.  So often we are clear about what we are against, and that gives us fellowship with like minds or experiences.  But the pivot we need is to come together on what we are for.  What Jesus asks is that we suit up, show up, and pull for Team God.  We have ritual, tradition, pageantry, stories, songs, prayers.  More importantly, we have the power of the Holy Spirit to draw us together, across all man-made divides, to heal our resentments, and to show us exactly who and what we are for:  the love of God in Jesus Christ. 
 
It is wonderfully comforting and inspiring to be part of something that big and that positive.   The good news is that are all on the same team.  It is gameday. Everyday.  Go God!