September 13, 2020
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois
Romans 14:1, 5-12; Matthew18:21-35, CEB[1]
Forgiveness is one of those defining traits of being a
Christian. Like loving your neighbor, forgiveness is part of who we are. Our
forgiveness is our response to God’s forgiveness of us, as we pray each week, “forgive
us our debts, as we forgive our debtors”[2]
What happens then, when we don’t forgive our debtors? As Peter seems to ask, what
happens when we run out of forgiveness?
Here we have a person who has been generous. A fellow
servant needed some cash, so our servant loaned out one hundred coins. Now the
borrower is asked to pay up, and can’t. So, our servant has him jailed for defaulting
on the debt.
I mean, if you can’t pay back what you owe, maybe you shouldn’t
borrow money in the first place. My parents were born during the Great
Depression. They didn’t borrow money. No car loans; they always saved up and
paid cash. No credit cards. My dad was a minister, so they lived in the parsonage
– no mortgage. Debt was to be avoided. Debt collectors aren’t known for being
overly merciful, after all. Have you ever been on the receiving end of a
collection agency phone call? Collecting on debts is just good business,
anyway. Economies collapse when loans get defaulted.
So, what’s the problem? Why is Jesus getting involved? The
servant, the central figure of this parable, starts out as the manager of a
tremendous responsibility. How much is ten thousand bags of gold? Other
translations read ten-thousand talents. It is meant to be understood as an
unreasonably large amount, the kind of debt a nation-state owes. This servant
can’t possibly come up with such a sum. Even though the servant promises to pay
it back, with a little more time, that doesn’t seem realistic.
The master, in response to the pleadings of the servant, unexpectedly
forgives it all. No extension of the loan, no refinancing or renegotiation. The
loan is just cancelled. Poof. Gone. This is where Jesus gets involved. If the
king, the master is meant to represent God, the debt that is forgiven, as colossal
as it seems, is too small. God, creator of the universe, giver of life, and
love, the earth and all it contains, has given everything to wayward sinners,
irresponsible stewards, human beings with all our failures and faults. What we
owe to God is beyond calculation. And yet, we are forgiven. Our sin, our
failures, all of our unmet promises, washed away in a breath of mercy.
Our servant, having just been forgiven an enormous debt, can’t
summon the grace to forgive even a small debt owed by a fellow servant. I’m
offended. His fellow servants were offended. You were just forgiven so much,
and over so little you send a fellow servant to jail? Are you for real? I’m
more than offended now; I’m angry. The master is going to hear about this!
The master hears our story, and calls the servant to
account. “You wicked servant!”[3]
Ooh, this is going to be good, we’re thinking. Revenge is sweet! “Shouldn’t you
also have mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you?”[4]
Oh, yeah, that’s right. Throw him in jail, master! Give him what he deserves!
Wait a minute. What just happened? Did we just become the
unmerciful servant ourselves? We stop and stare into our memories, all the
times we failed to forgive. How many times have I failed to forgive my family
for not being who I want them to be? How many times have I failed to forgive a
friend for failing me? How often have I relished revenge rather than mercy? And
as the servant is handed over to punishment, have I done it again? God, have
mercy.
Forgiveness is hard. Revenge feels good. When someone who
has hurt us gets hurt in return, we secretly (and sometimes openly) like it. We
want payback, we don’t want to forgive without getting something in return,
some payment or effort to make up for the wrong. What we forget is that
sometimes what is owed is beyond what can be paid back. And what we owe, and
have been forgiven, is beyond any payment we could make. What God has forgiven in
us is beyond measure, and we are asked to be that merciful in return.
Forgiveness is not simply wishing away the loss, the harm,
or the pain. It isn’t forgetting what has been done. Forgiveness takes hard
work, acknowledging and understanding the negative impact of another person’s
actions and attitude on our lives. We can’t forgive by denying we have been
hurt, or minimizing how we have been affected. And we must not forget or
dismiss the harm done by the abuse or betrayal of another.
To forgive is to choose to let go, to release the other from
whatever punishment we think they deserve, however justified. Forgiveness is
choosing to leave behind our desire for retribution, to release our resentment.
Forgiveness is choosing to set ourselves free from the hold that the other has
on our minds and on our hearts. It is denying the other person the power to
live in our heads and keep us angry, bitter, and resentful. It is refusing to
allow what has happened to keep us prisoner.
God forgives us. As we live each day in the grace of God’s
mercy, we are called to show that same measure of forgiveness toward one
another. As often as we forgive, we are always forgiven. As we forgive our
debtors, the ones who owe us, who have sinned against us, who have trespassed
on our hearts and minds, we are forgiven all that we owe to God, and blessed by
God’s grace. “We all will stand in front of the judgment seat of God.”[5]
It is there we shall be judged on the mercy we have shown by the God who showed
us mercy. Amen.
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