Fasting and Forgiveness
Sermon preached by Sarah Byrne-Martelli on Sunday, March 2, 2025
Christ is in our Midst! March is Antiochian Women's Month and we will be focusing on the themes of our Lenten journey. Today, I will talk about the role of fasting and forgiveness as we enter into Lent. In the following weeks, the homilists will focus on almsgiving, unceasing prayer, doubt and commitment, and steadfastness and hope.
Today is called Forgiveness Sunday. And right here – at 6 pm today! – we will participate in Forgiveness Vespers. As we heard in the Gospel: “The Lord said, ‘If you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father also will forgive you; but if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.’” Fasting and forgiveness are examples of storing up our treasures in Heaven, and they are inseparable in the life of a Christian. Fasting is not merely about food, nor is forgiveness just about easing burdens. Both are intentional acts of the heart, stripping away pride and making space for God’s grace to enter in. As we begin the fast, we commit to emptying ourselves – not just of certain foods, but of distractions and attachments – so we can revisit our true hunger, a hunger for Christ.
Notably, acts of forgiveness should touch every type of relationship we have. First, God calls us to seek forgiveness and communion within ourselves – as beloved children created in the image and likeness of God. As St. John Climacus said beautifully, “Repentance is the renewal of baptism. Repentance is a contract with God for a second life.” What do you need to forgive within yourself?
Second, God calls us to seek forgiveness and communion with others, healing relationships with friends, neighbors, and family. As St. Silouan the Athonite reminds us, “Where there is forgiveness, there also is the Spirit of God, and the Spirit is peace and love.” Which relationships in your life need forgiveness?
And finally, God calls us to seek forgiveness and communion with God, the source of All. What’s your relationship with God like these days? Can we summon the strength to let God love us today? As St. Porphyrios once said, “We should pray for God to forgive us, but we must forgive ourselves too.”
So, what do we need to let go of? Resentment? Thoughts of blame, hurt, wrongdoing? True forgiveness comes when we open our hearts to compassion for those who offend us. And I want to be clear: forgiveness is hard. In my chaplaincy work, I have seen a lot of broken relationships, betrayals, and abandonment. There are some hurts that cannot quite be repaired fully – they end up like a broken bone that heals unevenly, leaving you with a limp. But just as you can learn to walk with a limp, you can learn to forgive by accessing the gentleness in your heart with open hands, without the need to control or condemn. We can learn to forgive hurts caused by unrepentant people – even if they don’t even know or care how much they hurt us. We don’t need to let others control our hearts. Forgiveness grants us true freedom, as we work out our salvation, choosing where to focus our energy and love and letting go of the rest.
During tonight’s Forgiveness Vespers, we will transition to our Lenten prayers, fasting practices, different colored vestments and musical tones. We will bow before each person present, saying, “Forgive me, my brother or sister, a sinner,” and we will reply with “God forgives!” This exchange shows us that forgiveness is both personal and interpersonal, both totally specific and totally universal. We see that the practice of mercy is not done privately within our thoughts. It connects broadly to the life of the Church.
We all have relationships that are suffering or broken or causing distress. We may have hurt someone, gossiped about them, judged harshly, or acted uncharitably. But today we have an incredible opportunity to “reset” our relationships with the world, in a great cloud of witnesses. When I first attended this service almost 25 years ago, in this very parish in fact, it felt surprising and strange that one would prostrate before every member of church, asking forgiveness from the priest, a child, a grandmother, your own husband, and everyone in between. Some of these people are strangers, or people we love deeply, or people who are mere acquaintances. Why must I ask forgiveness from this random person I have never met? Or ask forgiveness for a private matter, in a public space?
Well, this practice forces us beyond these limited human categories of right and wrong, mercy and judgment, public and private. When we sin against our neighbor, we sin against God and God’s Kingdom. When we bow before our neighbor, we bow before Christ Himself and recognize Him as the source of love and life. Therefore, the act of forgiveness has the mysterious effect of forgiving and healing creation. We participate not just because we feel like it, but because our Tradition shows us how to practice love and mercy.
Years ago, I cared for a Hospice patient, Ann, who was terrified that her two adult sons could not forgive her for several bad choices she made when they were younger. They were now grown adults, with families and careers, and they were doing just fine. I wondered if she had asked them for forgiveness. She wouldn’t answer and sat quietly with tears in her eyes. Outside her bedroom, one son confided, “She keeps asking us to forgive her for being a bad Mom. We keep telling her we love her and that we’re okay now. She did her best. But she won’t let us forgive her! It’s like she doesn’t believe us.” It's true. She didn’t believe that she was forgivable. She couldn’t believe it, because her understanding of herself had solidified into “I’m a bad Mom and I don’t deserve forgiveness and there’s nothing that can change this.” It took months of visits and prayers and conversations, and lots of gentle chiseling away at her hardened heart, to get to a point where she could receive her sons’ love and forgiveness – to remember that she did not need to be trapped by her fears. It’s a reminder that forgiveness is not just in the asking. It’s in the asking AND in actively receiving the forgiveness offered to you.
There is a practice from native Hawaiian culture that involves saying to one another: “Forgive me. I forgive you. Thank you. I love you.” I often use this in my chaplaincy work. Take it in for a moment: Forgive me, I forgive you, thank you, I love you. Who in your life needs to hear these words?
Engaging forgiveness is basically saying to God, “God, could you please deal with this, because it is beyond me!” It acknowledges our limits; it’s like that old phrase that you see embroidered on a pillow: “Let go and let God.” It may be cheesy, but it’s sound advice. Forgiveness is a life-long pursuit; it requires trying and trying again. When we forgive and are forgiven, we are granted the vision to see what is broken – and that we are not bound by it. Let us engage the fast, to ask for and receive forgiveness – a body of people finding our salvation in Christ. Amen.