In this week when we are looking at forgiveness at worship in our churches and our schools, youth leader and ALM Sophie Gornall shared same thoughts at Holy Trinity this morning.

She said:

It’s never nice, is it, to be labelled as the bad guy, a bully, someone who is not worthy of forgiveness?

At least that’s how I felt when, aged 8, dressed in a black cape borrowed from the hairdresser’s, I played one of the despised Ishmaelites in my primary school production of Joseph’s Technicolor Dreamcoat….

I was one of the mercenaries, paid by Joseph’s brother to assassinate him.

This is a memory that I had suppressed until I saw today’s reading, which is from a different part of the story but evokes the same feelings of discomfort and betrayal.

Labels affect people in many ways, and that’s what we see in the words from the Old Testament, where Joseph’s brothers recognise themselves as being evil.

They have bullied Joseph in the past and expect to be punished. They have low self-worth. Caught in a vicious circle of spite and loathing, they think they are unworthy of Joseph’s forgiveness.

There is a sense of darkness and impending retribution, familiar in the Old Testament, payback, an eye for an eye.

 But Joseph offers us hope.

When Joseph speaks to his brothers he says

“I am in the place of God.”

This is interesting, it predicts the hope that Jesus gives us, a glimpse into the brightness of the New Testament.

Joseph offers a break in the cycle of ill deeds and painful punishment.

Jospeh recognises that his brothers are in trouble and he helps them.

He commits to providing for them and their children without expecting anything in return – unconditional regard, such as given by Jesus’s own sacrifice in the New Testament.

We have looked at the story of Joseph in Diamond Disciples and talked about how Joseph might have felt – angry, betrayed, saddened by how his brothers had treated him – and how difficult it would be to offer forgiveness. How the natural feeling would be to resent them, and to want all fraternal ties broken. And yet he put these feelings aside and treated them with compassion.

In Romans we heard that we should not place judgement on others because ultimately judgement lies with God.

 Each of us will give account of ourselves to Him.

While Joseph is reported in Genesis as saying that he is in the place of God, he still shows humility even though he is in a position of authority. He doesn’t pass judgement on his brothers. He doesn’t misuse his power. He recognises God as being in command.

When wrong is done, we have the autonomy that God has given us. Dealing with our feelings is hard when we are hurt. We can empathise with Joseph’s pain but still admire his decision. In the same way it is up to us to decide how to act in challenging situations that we face.

 Our responsibility is to choose wisely, to be the bigger person, to avoid letting resentment dominate, to offer forgiveness. And we can ask God for help in this.

Forgiveness is not simple.

Through the Lord’s prayer we ask forgiveness for our trespasses.

And we also ask that we are forgiven as we forgive others.

We say sorry many times – often without thinking. We say it when we interrupt a conversation, bump into someone, or tread on the cat’s tail.

The origins of the word ‘sorry’ can be traced to the Old English ‘sarig’ meaning ‘distressed, grieved or full of sorrow’ but of course it’s common use the word more casually.

A recent survey of more than 1,000 British people  found that that the average person says ‘sorry’ around eight times per day – and that one in eight people apologise up to 20 times a day.

Saying sorry is a cognitive process. We are taught from an early age to say sorry but not how to feel.

‘Sorry’ is a default. Sometimes we use it because we have low self-worth and are moved to apologise for own actions. We use ‘sorry’ to gain affirmation from another person, even if we have done nothing wrong.

But some actions need “sorry” to be more sincerely spoken and meant.

Its only when we are in a serious situation that requires a sincere apology that we understand the power of language.

There is a ritual around saying sorry. You feel better when you have said it. And you need the person that you have said sorry to, to respond in a way that shows acceptance and draws a line in the sand.

In today’s gospel reading from Matthew, we see the servant on bended knee, pleading for mercy in a position of extreme vulnerability and receiving forgiveness from his master when he can’t make the payment he owes.

The master takes pity on the servant and releases him from his debt.

But does the servant actually show humility or is he merely scared of having his freedom removed? Is he just saving his own skin?

When it’s the servants turn to show forgiveness, it’s clear that he has not learned from his master’s example. He doesn’t show mercy to his own debtors. He attacks them and shows no compassion for their suffering. The line in the sand is crossed.

Forgiveness has to be from the heart, and so do apologies. Words are hollow unless manifested in actions.

When I took part in the martial art of jujitsu, we had to bow to our partners before and after we threw them to the ground.

The first bow was a sign of respect before the fight began.

The second bow was an ending – putting the fight behind us and thanking one another.

And if anyone was genuinely hurt during a sparring session, their adversary would always help them back up.

Martial arts provide a great framework for relationship building.

When we go to the altar to receive communion, we may bow too, showing that we respect God, the church and each other.

God has the power to make ultimate judgements but we have autonomy over our actions.

 So – the challenge for this week.

Let’s take time to process our feelings. Let’s take those feelings to God in prayer. Let us be open to saying sorry and receiving forgiveness.