“How many times must I forgive my brother, as many as seven times?” Both readings this morning take issue with our need to count the cost of forgiveness.

In Genesis 50:15-21, Joseph’s brothers are afraid that Joseph will seek to “pay us back in full for all the wrong we did.”  Whereas in Matthew 18:21-35, Peter wants to know the exact number of times he must forgive.  When Jesus replies 77 times (or 7 times 70) he is not stipulating a higher number, he is ridiculing the very idea of keeping count. 

In the parable he tells the slave owes the king 10,000 talents, an impossible number, a way of saying that, if we were counting, we would not reach the end of the numbers: it could be billions, trillions, gazillions.  The point is that if God is keeping score, then we’re all doomed.

But God doesn’t count. 

Jesus says, “if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven”.  Which would be great if we ever agreed on anything.

Today’s gospel, Matthew 18:15-20, does not seem like a great advertisement for the church community: a bunch of people pointing out each other’s faults and snitching on one another.  But it is at least honest about one thing, being in community is hard work.  The church is full of troublesome people and sometimes the troublesome people are us.  Yet community is also where we thrive, where we find support and guidance, where we learn and grow.  

Last week Peter was at the top of the class for declaring that Jesus was indeed the son of God.  But this week, in Matthew 16:21-28, he is down at the bottom for failing to understand what it meant for Jesus to be the Christ.

The disciples have experienced miracles and wonders; they have been taught how to build a community that mirrors the kingdom of God.  Now they are learning that this work comes at a cost as Jesus shares the news of his suffering and death. 

Peter like Jeremiah, in our first reading Jeremiah 15:15-21, wants to know why suffering is necessary, do we have to struggle, must we lose our life in order to save it?

“On this rock I will build my church”.  But which rock, exactly, is Jesus talking about in Matthew 16:13-20?  We assume that he means Peter because he has just given the right answer (and because his name means stone).  But, in next week’s gospel, that same Peter will be called a stumbling block; still a rock but this time one that is in the way rather than a sure and strong foundation.

The particular rock on which Jesus and his disciples are standing is that of Caesarea Philippi.  A place where God’s people had been tested before. A place where they had been asked to put their allegiance to the Roman Empire above their allegiance to God.  A place where, those who chose God, faced defeat and death.  A place where they were tested.

This conversation takes place just before Jesus predicts his own defeat and death. 

It’s not about us.  It never was.

After the return from exile, the people of God had fierce debates about how to build their future.  For some (e.g. Ezra and Nehemiah), it was all about them, they wanted to be holy, pure and observant and they wanted to include only other holy, pure and observant people in the new Israel.  For Isaiah 56:1, 6-8, it was not about us, it was about God.  In our first reading the prophet argues passionately for God’s inclusion of all people: “Thus says the Lord God, who gathers the outcasts of Israel, I will gather others to them besides.”

Who was in and who was out, who was worthy and who unworthy continued to be a source of debate. 

Elijah is knackered.  Having publicly opposed the monarchy, started a jihad and slaughtered all the priests of the opposing religion, he flees from a death sentence.  Collapsed In the desert he asks to die. At this precise moment, in 1 Kings 19:9-18, God shows up: provides him with food, water and rest and takes him to a place of safety.

The disciples have also exhausted their strength.  Our translation of Matthew 14:22-33, tells us that they were “battered” by waves but the original Greek word is best translated as “violently tormented”.  They are skilled and experienced sailors yet all their resources have failed.  At this moment Jesus turns up and takes them to a place of safety.

What is interesting is how differently the prophet and the disciples respond. 

How do we discern a person’s heart? How do we know good from evil? For the last two weeks we have heard parables that remind us that we are often not the best judge.

In the parable of the sower, the sower does not distinguish between the stony ground and good soil; in the parable of the wheat and weeds, the farmer allows both to grow together. This week, in Matthew 13: 31-33, 44-52, we have a similar parable about the nets of fish: all are gathered in, the good and the bad together.

The other parables this week give us an insight into why we are not to judge, our view and God’s view are not often the same.

We are in the middle of a series of parables about seeds, weeds and growing things. The farmer in this week’s gospel, Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43, is as much of a maverick as last week’s (who scattered seed generously over all the ground whether the soil was good or bad) today the farmer allows the wheat and the weeds to flourish together in his field. The workers want to root out the weeds but the farmer forbids them. Both weeds and wheat grow from the same soil and to uproot one may also uproot the other.

The Greek word used for weed in this story is Zizania, a wild grain that looks very similar to wheat. It seems that it is difficult to distinguish good from bad grains and the same can be said for human beings.

Just like last week, this week’s gospel makes it clear that human beings are not the best judge and that any judging should be left in God’s hands.

Listen, a sower went out to sow” … we all know Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23, it is the parable of the sower.  We tend to interpret it, however, as the parable of the soil.  We wonder about our own soil: is our faith shallow like rocky ground?  are we too choked with the cares and concerns of the world like thorny ground?  We wonder even more about our neighbours’ soil: we compare and have opinions about who is bearing much fruit and who is bearing little.  But it is the parable of the SOWER.  It has something to say, not about us, but about God.  Whilst we are busy judging whose soil is best and whose lives are the most fruitful, the sower blithely carries on scattering seed everywhere.

Today we celebrate Pride Sunday. 

What kind of God do we want? Whatever God we hope for, we are likely to have expectations disappointed at some point or other. 

In the gospel, Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30, Jesus lambasts the crowd for never being satisfied: when God sends John, they complain that he is too serious; when God sends Jesus, they complain that he is too joyful.

God comes to us in many forms and most of them do not fit our expectations.

The banner outside out church reads: “Everyone welcome, no exceptions.”

“Everyone” is an easy concept to grasp but what do we mean by “welcome”?

In Biblical society, the practice of welcome, could be the difference between life and death.  If the widow or the orphan could not find a household to welcome them, they were destitute.  

Windrush Day celebrates the arrival of the SS Empire Windrush on 22nd June 1948 bringing the first group of Caribbean migrants to Britain.  The nation was suffering a labour shortage and invited migrants to resettle in the UK to help with the post-war rebuilding.

Windrush day honours the contributions of migrants to the post-war economy and to our culture and society.  Today it is a day of thanksgiving for the courage, resilience, and contribution of the Windrush Generation and their descendants.  It is also an opportunity to lament the injustices they endured and to commit ourselves to building a society where all are welcomed and valued.

Our readings today begin with God commanding us, in Leviticus 19:33-34, to treat foreigners the same as  native born.  God shows no partiality and we too should make distinction between people based on place of birth, heritage or skin colour, we are all neighbours.

Despite this command, the questioner in Luke 10:29-37 still asked Jesus to define “neighbour”.  In reply Jesus tells the story of the good Samaritan.  A story which turns the question on its head: it is the native-born Israelite who is in need of a neighbour and is healed and saved by the compassion of a foreigner. 

Throughout scripture we are reminded that we need one another.  We are, of course, asked to offer hospitality and welcome to the stranger and the foreigner but also to realise that are as much in need of them as they are of us.  Without them we are like the man who fell among thieves and is left for dead.