There
is a joke or maybe it is a true story about a young preacher who was sent to a
congregation not unlike our own. He got up one Sunday and he really preached a
great, but challenging sermon. When he finished everyone in the congregation
patted him on the back for his insightful, yet constructively critical words of
inspiration. Seven days passed and he got back up in the pulpit. Pretty quickly
some of the congregants looked around in surprise. Those who had been present
the week before realized right away that the preacher was speaking the exact
same words as the week before. This week when he shook hands with people after
the service no one patted him on the back. When finally the church matriarch
came out she wondered, “Why did you preach the same sermon two weeks in a row?”
“Well,” he replied, “I figure I am going to keep on preaching the same sermon
until you all actually live out the challenging words that Jesus was speaking
through me.” We may feel the exact same way about Jesus in this section of Matthew.
The
entire Eighteenth Chapter of Matthew’s Gospel account walks around the
challenging topic of forgiveness. Making my way through I excitedly read of a
shepherd fawning after his lone lost sheep, but then I wonder about God leaving
the ninety-nine good ones to go in search of the lost one. The middle of the
chapter appears even more difficult. As Evan rightly pointed out last week when
I see someone struggling with sin I am not so much in need of calling him out,
as I am in inviting him home, but this welcome is hard—requiring us to get out
of our comfort zones! Two messages back-to-back on forgiveness would be quite
enough, but then Jesus goes even further than that young preacher with today’s
lesson.
Peter
asks a well-meaning question about how much, how often, or how fully—depending
on the translation and understanding of the number seven—one ought to forgive.
This calls to mind the old saying, “Fool me once shame on me, fool me twice
shame on you,” but what about fooling me or sinning against me seven times?
Jesus says to Peter not just seven times, but seventy-seven times, or not only
completely forgiving, but beyond complete forgiveness is required. If the story
stopped there I would think of Jesus as challenging if a little repetitive, but
still on the whole understandable. What comes next though appears to be an
off-putting story depicting God as one of the worst parable characters in all
of the New Testament.
Oddly
enough though, this depiction of God as the king in the parable of the unforgiving
servant taps into a difficult thread that runs through the Gospel according to
Matthew. This theme is so obvious that if it were a snake it would have bit me
it was so close to my daily life. Running through Matthew’s telling of the Good
News is the theme that “God forgives us our trespasses as we forgive those who
trespass against us.” It is so obvious because we say it daily or at least
weekly when we pray the words that Jesus taught us. When Matthew introduces the
Lord’s Prayer and gives his commentary on it in the sixth chapter he points
out, “For if you forgive others their trespasses, your Heavenly Father will
also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father
forgive your trespasses.” Taken together with the parable of the unforgiving
servant here in Matthew chapter eighteen, this principle that God forgives only
when I forgive creates an image of Our Heavenly Father that causes me not to
love the Divine, but to fear Him. The logical next step is to say that God only
loves me when I am acting in a certain way. Thus, if I am not careful God’s
love becomes conditional in a hurry, but is that really it?
As
I walk through the parable of the unforgiving servant—one that may have become
too familiar for me to hear the ridiculousness of it all—there may be more to
the story than a law of conditional forgiveness. Matthew gives me no choice but
to connect the king with God in verse thirty-five, but maybe something more
exists beneath the surface. Let us take a deeper look.
This
king demands an absolutely absurd amount money. Sometime in the past I tried to
convert this into modern currency. While it is more than several lifetimes
worth of money, in our day and age of the ultra-rich-one-percenters these kinds
of stats get drowned out by Bill Gate’s, Oprah Winfrey’s, or Warren Buffet’s
net worth. To those who initially heard this story, the numbers stated—ten
thousand and talents—were too big to fathom. Early manuscripts of this story
shrunk the number because of this. Stated simply to the servant this number was
not big, but infinite. While the concept of an infinitely large number can be
hard to understand, what may be more difficult is comprehending someone who
lends out that much money in the first place.
Sometimes
when we take a metaphor, an analogy, or in this case a parable to its furthest
extent things do not always make sense. Still the king—remember this is God in
this story—empowered this servant to get into such trouble by continuing to
allow the slave to run up debts that he would never be able to retire them.
Would you like to think of God as a modern day pay-day-lender who will run up
someone’s debt? What kind of God allows his beloved creation to get into such
indebtedness? Well, actually our God! As tough as this is for me to accept, God
allows me to make so many mistakes that I will never be able to make amends for
all of those failings. So maybe the king here is verging on being gracious—he
did not strike the servant dead the first time he missed a payment. However,
before you begin thinking of this king in too rosy a light, observe what he
does in response to permitting such a charge to be owed.
On
top of enabling a catastrophically large amount to be due this king—who
remember Jesus compares to God—orders this servant to be sold along with his
wife, his children, and all his possessions to make amends. WHAT? Let alone for
a moment that Jewish Law prohibited slavery and even in the Gentile world of
the day selling whole families rarely if ever happened. Jesus said in this
moment that God who lovingly created all things would actually go through with
selling off an entire household to make up for this vast financial obligation.
Except, if we do not think of this transaction as monetary and instead
understand the wife, the children, and the possessions as collaterally damaged
by sin is this not what happens in our own lives? Our own Prayer Book describes
sin as the distortion of relationships not only with God, but with other
beloveds in our lives. Still, I struggle with this depiction of God.
Perhaps
the straw that breaks the camel’s back in this story comes at the end of it.
The king forgave the servant. Then, in the servant’s elated nature he fell back
upon some bad behavior. He sought recompense of a debt owed him—in perhaps a
greedy way. The tattle-tales around him went and told their king. Now this,
this is where I struggle to understand God. The king forgets his momentary
kindness of relinquishing a big bill, goes beyond selling the servant along
with his family, and what does he do? He has the unforgiving servant tortured.
TORTURED! This is how Jesus depicts God? This may affect my ability to say, “Forgive
us our trespasses/sins as we forgive those who trespass/sin against us” or to
use the very fitting Methodist language, “Forgive us our debts as we have
forgiven our debtors.” So one very straightforward way of interpreting this
parable is fear God for he is a severe master who will act with excessiveness
if we do not do practice forgiveness.
Now,
wait a minute. This is the danger of literally interpreting the Good News. We
can all to easily turn it around, so that instead of being filled with grace
this story is about law that requires us to earn our way into the love of God.
If
we go back though we will see that the king in this story was not waiting to
forgive this servant until he forgave the one who owed him. No, he forgave him
the infinitely huge debt first. This servant owed more than he could make in
many lifetimes, but the king said it is forgiven. The challenge here is to
Peter’s original question of how often we ought to forgive others—and not to is
God waiting to forgive us. OF COURSE, GOD IS NOT WAITING! God forgives us like
he forgave this servant—infinitely! The challenge that Jesus puts forth to us
is to live in such a way that we are changed. To live like we get what Jesus is
saying, so that the young preacher won’t have to say the same words over again.
We
are changed because we have been forgiven something that we could never pay
back. We are freed from that burden of making up to God what we properly owe
for all those times we missed the mark. If I truly let this sink into my soul
won’t it forever change my life? This story is only about grace. God forgives
me and now I am invited to forgive anyone and everyone else. In the long run
this is the only thing that leads to life, for what truly tortured that servant
was not the king but his own inability to forgive others. This is what will
bring us down as well. Who is it that I need to forgive? Who do you need to
forgive? We do not have to wait on God to forgive us first, for God has always
forgiven us infinitely more than we can ever ask or imagine. Now Jesus calls us
to forgive as we have been forgiven, not seven times but forgiveness times infinity!
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