Sunday Sermon: A Debt We Could Never Repay
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Text: Matthew 18:23-35
Series: “Jesus’ Parables and the Mystery of the Kingdom”
A concern that once upon a time was on every American politician’s mind, but now seems to have become a distant memory, is the national debt. Simply put, the national debt represents the total federal financial obligation owed to the American public because of how federal spending has exceeded more than the government has taken in. You’ve probably seen those virtual clocks that track the United States’ national debt, which is currently at 28 trillion dollars and growing. In fact, the debt clock is moving so fast that it makes the electrical meter at your house look like it’s standing still. And of course, while arguments rage among economists as to whether this debt is a good or bad thing, the question that is on everyone’s mind is not so much “How will we pay the debt?” The question has become “Can we ever pay it?”
Behind that question is a fundamental assumption, which is that if you have a debt, you also need to have a plan to pay it, which is an assumption that holds true not only for governments. It also holds true for businesses and institutions and churches and individuals. Because if you don’t pay your debts, or as I heard one preacher once phrase it, “If your outflow exceeds your income, your upkeep will be your downfall.” In other words, there will be a day of reckoning when all debts and obligations must come due; and if on that day you have a debt that is unpayable, that day of reckoning will not be a good one. It will not be a good one at all.
This truth is not just a modern one. It’s a truth that has applied to every society going back to the beginning of time. And for that reason, it was a truth that Jesus drew upon as he spoke with his disciples about the Kingdom principle of forgiving others of the wrongs they have done against us and doing so because of the truly unpayable debt God has forgiven us from.
The parable is recorded in the Gospel of Matthew, the same Gospel account that includes the Sermon on the Mount, in which is also recorded what we call “the Lord’s Prayer,” which includes the line we pray every Sunday here at Mountain Brook Baptist Church: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us” – a line I always have thought was a somewhat flimsy rendering of what Jesus actually taught. The word Jesus used, as recorded in the Greek, is opheilema, which means “debt.” To ask for the forgiveness of a trespass just doesn’t seem to me to carry the force of my asking to be forgiven of a debt and then to be asked to forgive others of debts they’ve incurred against me. But it’s important that we recognize the most serious nature of debt in Jesus’ day so that we might better appreciate the primary teaching of this parable, which is how our willingness to forgive others and to do so with the deepest sincerity is the best indication of how deeply grateful we are for the forgiveness God has shown us through Jesus Christ.
The context of this parable is important, as you would expect. The 18th chapter of Matthew’s Gospel is the famous “conflict resolution” chapter in the Bible. That is to say, it represents Jesus’ teaching on what believers should be doing to make sure that we don’t let our disagreements with one another, which even Christians will inevitably have, devolve into insoluble ones. Simon Peter has just approached Jesus with a question couched as a statement of Peter’s readiness to exceed the expectations of the scribes that folk should forgive those who wrong them three times, but no more. But when Peter asks Jesus if seven times would be sufficient, Jesus in effect calls upon Simon Peter to throw away his abacus and practice unlimited forgiveness, what Jesus calls “seventy times seven” forgiveness, a level of forgiveness that can only come from a heart that is captivated by God’s forgiveness. And with that teaching, Jesus launches into the parable that is before us this morning.
“The Kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants.” Jesus begins by calling attention to one servant who owes his master “ten thousand talents,” which doesn’t even register with people today until they realize that the debt this servant owes was equivalent to 150,000 years of wages, or in today’s terms, billions of dollars, an unpayable debt even for the wealthiest of us gathered today. It’s important that you let the weight of that debt sink in. Do the math in your mind. 150,000 times what you make in a year. Think you can handle that debt? Now you can understand why this servant was so desperate. To begin with, he’s obviously no ordinary servant to have amassed such a mind-boggling debt. He’s probably an administrative official of some sort in the king’s court, one that has no doubt been cutting corners and playing footloose with the king’s business, likely skimming off the top for his own gain. You know the kind I’m talking about, as slimy as a snake. So, when the king tells him that he’s about to order that his wife and his children and everything he owns be sold to repay at least some of the debt, the servant falls to his knees, begs for patience, and promises to pay back “everything,” which is never going to happen. The debt is unpayable, remember?
But a remarkable thing happens. The king is moved by his servant’s plea; he is deeply moved. The king is so moved that he orders the inconceivable. He doesn’t just give the servant more time to pay his debt. He doesn’t lower the debt to a manageable amount. He cancels the debt. He wipes it away. It’s as if the debt no longer exists. Actually, it doesn’t exist because the king nullifies it. And the servant walks away scot-free, totally unobligated, redeemed, restored, free from every encumbrance.
So, you think this servant that had been completely released from his unpayable debt would be the picture of mercy to others; right? Well, think again, says Jesus. No sooner has he been forgiven of his debt does the servant go out, find a servant that owes him a much lesser amount, a trifling amount in comparison to what he owed the king, which this servant, no doubt a lesser servant, was in no position to pay, even though the debt in his case was payable. But not only does this first servant demand payment from the servant who owes him money, he resorts to violence to exact it. He grabs the second servant and begins to choke him. “Pay back what you owe me,” he demands of the second servant.
And what does the second servant do? He begins to plea for patience in the same way as his creditor had done, to the letter, except for one thing – this second servant does not say that he will pay back “everything.” He knows he can’t pay back “everything.” It’s just, “Be patient with me; I will pay you back.” But the first servant is not patient, and he is not prone to pity. He has the second servant thrown into prison until he could pay the debt, which of course, leads to the question, “How do you pay back a debt when you’re in prison?” You don’t; unless your friends and your family come to your rescue. But how likely would that have been?
Clearly, not very likely. Because there are other servants, Jesus tells us, who upon seeing what has taken place, go to the master to report what has transpired. And the king is not happy. He calls the first servant back for a confrontation, what we might call a “come to Jesus meeting.” “You wicked servant,” the king calls him. “I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?” And in anger, the king threw that first servant into prison as well, and even worse to be tortured, until he should pay back all that he owed, which as we know was unpayable.
And then Jesus delivers the punch line; and for some of us, it may be more of a “gut” punch line: “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you, unless you forgive your brother from your heart,” unless you forgive deeply, not flippantly, and sincerely, not begrudgingly. Mercy received must lead to mercy that is shown.
Lewis Smedes was a professor at Fuller Theological Seminary in Los Angeles, who wrote the book on forgiveness, at least from a theological perspective. Actually, Smedes wrote several books on the topic. In his book, A Life of Distinction, he tells the story of how this topic first became so important to him. As an ethics professor interested in prison reform, he once spent a day at the Los Angeles County jail trying to get someone out on bail. After seeing a stream of assorted thugs and addicts coming in and out of jail, he became rather cynical. “What a bunch of losers,” he thought to himself. While waiting to accomplish what he had gone there to do, he struck up a conversation with a young black man in a clerical collar, who was visiting the jail. It turned out that this young man was not an ordained minister; he was an insurance salesman who spent one day each week ministering to people in lock-up at the county jail.
“So, what kind of people do you meet here?” Lewis asked him. “Addicts? Losers?” The young man replied, “Well, maybe they are. But that’s just not the way I divide people up. The only two categories of people I really care about are the forgiven people and the unforgiven people. And what I’ve found is that to forgive is to set a prisoner free, and when you do, what you discover is that the prisoner was you” (Smedes, A Life of Distinction, pp. 166-167.)
“All I care about are the forgiven people and the unforgiven people.” You do know that Jesus cares about the same thing. You know that because of how when he was nailed to the cross, where at the top of his head the Romans had affixed a crude sign in three separate languages that read, “King of the Jews,” Jesus looked down at his tormentors, his trespassers, his debtors, and prayed, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”
At one time, we didn’t know. But now because of Calvary, we do, and we have no excuses. Mercy received must lead to mercy that is shown. The day of our reckoning is coming, our real “come to Jesus meeting.” And between now and then our celestial debt clock is ticking. So, let us pray, and let us mean it when we pray, “Our Father, who art in heaven, forgive us our debts, unpayable as they are, as we forgive our debtors.” Only then will God’s Kingdom come, and God’s will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.