In “An Essay on Criticism”, Alexander Pope writes, “Good-Nature and Good-Sense must ever join; To err is human, to forgive divine.” Forgiveness is a divine act. It is why, when instituting the Lord's prayer, Jesus includes “Forgive us of our debts as we forgive our debtors.” Forgiveness is a part of the divine act of God and the parable of the Unforgiving Servant is an example of God's divine forgiveness; however, the parable to points to a difficult reality, to forgive may be divine, but it is really, really, really hard to do. The parable of the unforgiving servant creates a bracing image of the importance of forgiveness; not only in the church but in life as well. Even more, it assumes that the practice of forgiveness is part of the human response to the rule of God.
Our story this morning begins with Peter asking Jesus a basic question, “Jesus, how many times must I forgive a member of the church who sins against me? Seven times?” Jesus replies with a direct answers, “Not seven times but seventy-seven times.” In other words, Jesus says, “We do not limit our grace and forgiveness to a brother or sister of the church. We forgive and we forgive.” Jesus then says, “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to...”.
As the story begins, we encounter a ruler who decides to settle accounts with those who serve him. The story does not give the details of why the first servant owed the king, Jesus just tells us that the slave owed his master, ten thousand talents. In today's market, with interest and inflation, that amount would total somewhere around a $1,000,000,000. A near impossible number for an individual to owe another; but how the servant racked up the debt is not the point; the large amount is for us to know that this servant owed a great deal of money to the king. The servant is unable to pay the money back, so the king orders the man, along with his wife and children and all his possessions to be sold as compensation. The servant throws himself at the king, begging him to take pity on him and have patience and he will pay him back. The king, out of pity for the servant, released him and forgave his debt.
Immediately after being forgiven of his debt, the servant came upon one of his fellow servants who owed him 100 denarrii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, “Pay what you owe me.” Compared to what the first servant owed the king, the debt of the second servant to him is but a drop in the bucket. In today's setting, the first servant is owed a measly $1000. Yes, it's considerable but with time, the second servant could pay him back. The first servant would have none of it and through the second servant in prison.
The other servants were distressed. So, they went to their master, the king, and reported what had happened. Then the king summoned him and said to him, “You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you have not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?” And in anger, the king handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt.
Several preachers and interpreters struggle with this parable and its attachment to Peter's question. They complain that the parable, which is about the necessity of forgiveness, is not a suitable example of vv.21-22, which rejects limits for forgiveness.
They are right. The parable is not a suitable example of limitless forgiveness; but Matthew joined the parable to Peter's question not because both teach the same thing, but because both treat the topic of forgiveness, even though with two emphases. The parable is not, and was not intended to be, an illustration of Peter's question and Jesus' answer to the question. Matthew indicates a connection rather than an example or proof. The parable picks up only part of the subject of forgiveness, the necessity to forgive.
When it comes to dealing with parables, the question we must always ask is, “What does this parable seek to do, and how does it accomplish its purpose?”
The parable seeks to create a drastic understanding of what it means to be forgiven and to forgive. The first servant owed an unpayable debt. Many of us naturally identify with the troubles of the first servant and are relieved on hearing that his predicament was solved. We know what it is like to owe a great debt and be forgiven of the debt in some form. While we may not have the bank forgive our debt, we do know what it means to have someone forgive us in some sense. If not, if we've been fortunate not to have that issue, we still know what it means to be forgiven because the first part of the parable points to the enormous, unpayable debt of sin and God's stunningly gracious forgiveness.
If the story had started with the first servant demanding that his colleague pay what he owed, for he was fully within his rights to demand to be paid. What makes his actions reprehensible and shifts our allegiance is the contrast between the treatment he received and the treatment he gave. We hear the first servant plead for the king to have mercy on him, and then after receiving the king's mercy, we hear the second servant beg the first for mercy and the first servant shows him none. The parable then addresses the point Jesus is trying to make, “You have been forgiven so you are to forgiven. Not seven times but seven times seventy. You are to forgive and forgive and forgive because you have been forgiven.”
But the parable raises a question, “Is God bound by the unlimited forgiveness of vv. 21-22?”
Asking about the limits of God's mercy is certainly legitimate, but it is not the concern of this parable. In the end we should recognize that God is the only one who ultimately can hold humanity accountable. The concern of the parable is God's forgiveness and the seriousness of failing to mirror God's mercy, not an atonement theology or a general discussion of judgment. Within Scripture a focus on the boundless mercy of God does not preclude judgment, even if mercy is given more emphasis. “God does not insist upon his pound...But God insists upon the dignity of his mercy.” We must not treat God's mercy cavalierly. God's mercy is not effectively received unless it is shown, because God's mercy transforms. Forgiveness not shown is forgiveness not known.
Perhaps another story will help:
Once there was a man of means who was old and ill. He called his only son and said, “My dearest son, I know that I was not the best father when you were growing up, but I had a poor example from my father. He was much too involved in making money when I was a boy. Before he died, he asked for my forgiveness. I, of course, gave it to him. After all, he was my father. However, I made the same mistake and spent too much time with my business and making money and not enough with you. No, I am old and ill, and as my father did, I am asking your forgiveness. Unlike my father, I do not want you to wait until I die to have everything that is mine. I can no longer run my business. You and your wife are capable. I will give you my business now. I ask only that you take care of me until I die.”
The son merely nodded, not sharing what was in his heart. He and his wife moved into his father's home, taking the finest room for themselves and moving the old man to a small, sparse room. Little by little, they took more and more away from the old man. They sold all of his fine clothes, books, and other possessions and kept the money for themselves. The old man wore rags, and because they were ashamed of him, they made him eat in the kitchen with the servants. Eventually, they moved him out to the barn, where he slept in a corner in his rags. Soon the man and wife forgot the old man was alive.
But their son did not forget his grandfather. Each day the child would sneak into the barn and spend time with the old man. The old man embraced the boy, holding and telling him stories.
Sometimes the boy played alone. The father rarely spent time with his son, but as he was rushing off to work one day, he watched as the child moved rags and blankets from one stack to another.
“What are you doing?” asked the father.
“Well,” said the son, “I take some fine blankets from the house and put them in one pile. I take dirty rags and put them in another.”
“Why do you play this game?” asked the father.
“Oh, I'm practicing for when I am a man like you. I will have these very fine, warm blankets, and I will save the dirty rags, like the ones grandfather has, for you.”
The man realized what he had been doing, and, with tears in his eyes, swept the boy into his arms. Then he went to his father to beg forgiveness for the way he treated him. The old man forgave him.
Weeping, grandfather, son, and grandson returned to the house. (Corinne Stavish)
The parable of the unforgiving servant pictures magnificent and limitless grace of God in forgiving the incalculable debt of sin; however, grace always brings with it responsibility. The forgiveness of God must be replicated in the lives of the forgiven. And the warning is clear: where forgiveness is not extended, people will be held accountable.
The parable raises one more question: What if Christians lived their lives as a people who have truly been forgiven and forgive as they have been forgiven? It's a tough question to answer on a day when across America we reflect and remember the attacks on the Pentagon, the Twin Towers, and United 93. But I believe it helps to know this: When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as a I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge. They were all messages of love. There were no phone calls from people asking for their money or calls to people who owed them a debt. They were calls of love and forgiveness. For me, that tells me if we lived as a forgiven people, we might see less devastation in our world. And I think that's the point of the parable.
