Sunday, September 13, 2020

Radical Forgiveness: A Meditation on Matthew 18


Then came Peter to him, and said,

Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me,

and I forgive him? till seven times?

 Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times:

 but, Until seventy times seven.

 

It is difficult to escape the enormity of Jesus’ answer to St. Peter, just as it is the gravity of the parable Jesus used to emphasize it.  I doubt the average fisherman or day laborer whom Jesus called into His service was particularly gifted at mathematics, but they could immediately grasp the significance of Jesus’ use of symbolic numbers.  Peter, in asking if he should forgive someone who worked evil against him up to seven times, was making what he must have thought was a generous overture (who would let someone walk into their house seven times and steal their things, and forgive them when they repented after each theft?)  Jesus corrected this perspective of an ostensibly pious human, by granting divine perspective—seven offerings of forgiveness might seem gratuitous to a person, but in relation to God and His grace, such an offering is in reality vanishingly small.

 

The parable which followed showed this clearly.  A steward who owed his master 10,000 talents of gold, was brought in for a reckoning.  This steward must have had control over much of his master’s resources, as this was more money than anyone could hope to earn in several lifetimes—perhaps like a hedge fund manager who controls a billion dollars of Warren Buffet’s vast fortune.  Imagine that hedge fund manager lost, either by neglect, malfeasance, or corruption, a billion dollars of his boss’ money, and was called into the office to give an account, surrounded by attorneys and federal officers.  His boss would have the right to have this wretch’s whole personal inventory and assets seized and sold to pay a fraction of the debt, and the hedge fund manager would likely go to prison for the rest of his life.  In the ancient world, the penalties were even more severe, where the perpetrator could be put into slave labor in the prisons until they worked off the debt, which in this case, they could never accomplish.  Such was the debt and the guilt of the steward before his master, that all he could do was plead for mercy, with vain promises to pay back what he knew he could not live long enough to repay.

 

In a radical and shocking act of grace, the master forgave the steward the debt; which is to say more precisely, the master took the penalty of the steward upon himself.  10,000 talents were still owed, but the master paid it out of his own resources, accepting the loss on his servant’s behalf.  Can anyone imagine that happening to the hedge fund manager who lost or stole a billion dollars from his boss?  And yet, this is the image of divine mercy and grace that Jesus presented to St. Peter—of forgiveness for a servant’s unrepayable debt, with the suffering and loss taken by the wronged master.  Such an idea was as shocking then, as it is now.

 

And yet, that’s not the end of the story.  That same servant, forgiven in radical grace, went out and seized a fellow servant of the same master, demanding what amounted to about 1/3 of a year’s wages.  Certainly not a small amount of money, but orders of magnitude smaller than what he was just forgiven.  Instead of mercy when begged, he threw his fellow servant into the prisons to work off the debt, imposing suffering and misery on this servant and his family until the debt was repaid.  Of course, with his own debt forgiven before his master, this would all be profit to him now, and he could wallow in the money without fear of losing it to his creditor. 

 

When word of this reached the master’s ears, He was implacably angry, and summoned the unforgiving servant into his court.  Not only was the servant handed over to the debtor’s prison but also to the torturers, from who’s grasp he would not escape until he had paid back every penny of his unpayable debt.  The image is one of the torments of hell, where the eternal suffering of the damned continues until the eternity of their debt is repaid—which is to say, that their calamity is forever.  The steward who had received grace and mercy from his master for sins against the divine majesty, who then exacted judgment upon his fellow servant for sins against his own person, is then given back the justice due his crimes.  Mercy denied is justice received.  Jesus ended His parable with a warning to His disciples, that the same fate would befall each of them, if they did not earnestly forgive their neighbors their trespasses.

 

So, too, we find ourselves before God.  The debt of sin and evil we each have is infinite and unpayable by human labors, no matter how many lifetimes we might be given to do so.  We are the stewards who have squandered the riches of life and time and prosperity, of every good gift we have received from our Creator, and who must stand before the judgment seat of God to give an account of our negligence, our malfeasance, and our betrayal.  It is we who have no other escape but to plead for mercy, to offer our lives a living sacrifice in our Master’s service, and to beg to be spared from the eternal fires of hell.

 

And it is to us that God responds with unimaginable grace and mercy, taking our debt upon Himself in the person of His Son.  The debt against the divine majesty must be paid, and instead of demanding justice upon us, He satisfies justice against Himself, so that He might offer forgiveness, life, and salvation to all who repent and believe in Him.  This forgiveness is one of incalculable magnitude, an eternal debt for every soul, settled in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.  Here, even the image of seventy times seven pales by comparison, when we look upon the sins of others against us, and realize that there is no wrong we can suffer which amounts to the wrongs we have been freely forgiven.  Thus we become the ambassadors of grace from a gracious King, offering to every soul the radical forgiveness of Jesus, knowing that it is by this grace alone, through faith alone, in Jesus alone, that our peace with God is made.

 

As the recipients of this radical grace, it is both our gift and our duty to forgive, lest we find ourselves demanding justice upon others who have wronged us, only to receive justice instead from the God to whom we owe our every breath.  This grace, this unfathomable, healing grace, is the gift of life to all who would repent and believe in Jesus, for which we are sent to every sinner who needs it as desperately as we do.  In this grace we surrender justice to the Cross of Jesus, that grace and mercy may abound to us all, and that we all might live forever in Him, forgiven and free.  Amen.