Psalm 51:1-12 and Matthew 18:23-35
"For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him, and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.' And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow sslaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, 'Pay what you owe.' Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you.' But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt.
"When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. Then his lord summoned him and said to him, 'You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you? And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart."
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
This is the last time we will gather here before the events of Holy Week begin, propelling Jesus to the cross. Next Sunday morning, he will ride into town on a donkey and we will be here to greet him with loud shouts of adoration: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” Waving branches in our hands, we will join our voices with those in Jerusalem. By the end of the week, those delighted shouts will turn to ugly cries for crucifixion, and our Lord will be led to a most cruel and humiliating death. Those shouting and screaming voices will turn silent. And that silence will, in effect, collude with those who arrest, try, and kill the Son of God.
We have a few days left to make sure we are ready to journey with Christ. This is the fifth Sunday in Lent, and it is the last time we will gather together to examine ourselves. It’s time we try to fathom the depth of God’s love for us even as we find ourselves utterly unable to stand before God on our own merit. Last week, we explored the fulness of God’s forgiveness and the length to which Jesus Christ goes as our advocate. We heard Christ’s prayer from the cross interceding for all of those who play a part in condemning him to this horrific death. “Father, forgive them. For they do not know what they are doing.” And we saw God’s grace offered freely to the criminal dying on the cross beside Jesus. As death crept ever closer, that man simply asked Jesus to remember him when he came into his kingdom. And Jesus’ response, wrapped in God’s love and God’s grace: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
Forgiven. Restored into relationship with God and with Jesus Christ. Not one single person in the crowd, not those in positions of authority, nor those dying with Jesus deserved it. Not one of them earned it. All of them received it by grace, which is the gift of God so that no one can boast, as Paul writes. And it is given to you, too. And to me. Friends, we are forgiven, and that is a gift beyond all we can imagine, if we really take time to realize what it means. And I rejoice with you in this truth.
But it is not enough. We are not finished. God does not forgive us so that we can simply be right in our relationship with God. We are created for community, and we cannot be whole without each other. It is not enough that God forgives us. We must forgive one another.
Peter gets it, but he wants to define the edges of that forgiveness. So he questions Jesus, “How many times must I forgive someone who sins against me?” Peter offers a very generous seven times. Surely that’s enough. You know, Peter might have been a good Presbyterian. It seems to me that he is defining his Book of Order requirements here:
F-1.0100: Number of times we must forgive one another. Members of the congregation shall forgive a person who sins against them seven times. (Not an actual rule!)
Seems generous really, let’s hope we are able to keep such a stringent rule. After all, we Presbyterians know that “Shall” in the Book of Order means that we must do it. Seven times is a lot. Surely it’s enough. If a member of the congregation will not amend their behavior after seven times, surely that’s it. It seems decent and in order to ask them to leave the body after such stubbornness. Right Jesus?
Unfortunately, Jesus doesn’t have a lot of interest in Peter’s Book of Order limitations. “Not seven times, but I tell you seventy-seven times.” Now, before you whip out your calculators, let me just say that Jesus is not speaking about a literal numerical limit. He chooses an outrageously high number to tell Peter that grace and forgiveness have no limits. We must never stop forgiving one another.
Let’s pause here for a minute and think about that. What does forgiveness mean, anyway? Our Lenten study group wrestled with this question this week as we talked about Jesus’ command to forgive one another. We found it helpful to define what forgiveness is NOT. Forgiveness is notdenying the pain and hurt someone has caused; it is not excusing harmful behavior; and it is notforgetting the wound.
Jesus illustrates the depth of that forgiveness with the parable we read this morning about the unforgiving servant. In Matthew’s gospel, it follows on the heels of the exchange between Jesus and Peter about forgiveness.
The first servant is dead in the water, crushed by the weight of an impossible debt that he cannot ever repay. Jesus’ deft use of hyperbole here would have his listeners, even Peter, roaring with laughter. It would be something akin to one of us owing a financial debt the size of the national debt. When pressed for repayment, the servant pleads to the king, promising that with a little more time, he will repay the debt. A ridiculous promise. The debt cannot be repaid. It is impossible. This servant is doomed to be destroyed by his debt.
But the story turns, and with that twist, the master erases the servant’s debt. Suddenly the servant is freed - not only of his financial burden, but literally freed from his indentured status, too. The master forgives the debt and sets the servant free. He receives the unsurpassable gift of a completely new life. Everything changes. The future that was once clouded and dismal is suddenly bright and clear. Anything is possible.
As the servant leaves the master’s company, reflecting on the depth of what he has received, he spots a fellow servant who owes him a couple of month’s wages. This debt is also significant, but more manageable, and it is quite realistic that the servant will be able to pay it off. But not all at once as our servant immediately demands. Pay up buddy. Right now. Jesus’ audience and we bristle a little. Are you kidding? After what you have just received?
The second servant makes the identical plea that we heard our fellow give his master. Please be patient with me, and I will repay you completely. I don’t have it right now, but I promise I will repay you as soon as possible. Surely our man can hear his own voice speaking these same words only a short while earlier.
But no, he cannot. Like so many of us, his memory is remarkably short. Suddenly finding himself empowered in his own life, he decides to flex that newfound power in the first place he can. He refuses this poor guy’s request, and has him arrested and thrown into debtor’s prison. No mercy. No grace. Nothing. (We are all holding our breath now as Jesus continues).
But this servant doesn’t live in a vacuum, and his cruelty is witnessed by still other servants who report him to the very same master who just granted his freedom and forgiveness. As outraged as all of us are at the servant’s actions, the master now uses his position of authority to have this ungrateful servant punished. Yes! Vindication! That Jesus tells a great story.
But then the final twist; the one that makes us writhe: “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” Ouch!
Friends, in Jesus Christ, through his death on the cross, which came at the hands of those he came to save, we have received forgiveness beyond anything we can imagine. We have been freed from slavery to sin or whatever you want to call that which separates us from God’s presence. We have been given a fresh start: the old life has gone and a new life has begun. We have been saved by grace, and that is the gift of God, so that none can boast. And we have been freed for the good works that God prepared for us, to be done as response and not in order to earn this gift of life.
How dare we turn around and squander this gift by refusing to share forgiveness with each other? How dare we demand more of our brother or sister than has been demanded of us? How dare we suggest that the debt owed to us by our neighbor is greater than that which we owed to God?
True forgiveness, from the heart is not optional. And it is not cheap or immediate, either. The parable’s point is to make us see that we are created to be in community. And we cannot be in community when we are not reconciled to one another. Our relationships require a reckoning, a balancing, a cancellation of debt so that we can all stand together on an even footing before God. We are no longer servant or free--we are no longer in debt to God or to one another.
True forgiveness also does not preclude consequences. While we are called to forgive others, we are not called to allow them to continue behaving in destructive ways. When a situation is abusive, forgiveness includes separating ourselves from the situation.
Holy Week is coming. It is an excruciating week for those who follow Jesus. All of their expectations are shattered as they watch their savior die. And even while we know how the story ends, Lent prepares us to walk as if we didn’t. It’s time to finish our preparations, it’s time to accept God’s forgiveness and to extend that forgiveness to one another. We won’t get through the week alone, we need God and each other.
May I invite each of us to prayerfully prepare ourselves, so that next Sunday we can shout our Hosannas as Jesus rides into town. We can follow him as he teaches and confronts the sin around him. We can gather in the upper room for supper with our Lord and, perhaps, follow at a distance as he takes Peter and James and John into the garden to pray. We can follow along at his arrest and at his appearances before Pilate and Caiaphas and Herod. We can weep at the cross, and watch as they take his body to the tomb. It’s not going to be easy, it’s not going to be cheap, and we can only do it as God’s forgiven children. And we can only do it together. So now, as God has forgiven us in Jesus Christ, let us also forgive one another. May the peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. And also with you. Amen.
Please take a moment now to share the peace of Christ with one another.