Matthew 18:21-35
Peter came and said to Jesus, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.
“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 slaves 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.”
I
Many of Jesus’ parables could be grouped under the heading, “Don’t be that guy!” These are the parables that include negative examples, the anti-heroes, who serve as warning to us by their failure to live within the drama of God’s redemption, or to live out out in their lives the fruits of that redemption.
So, you know, don’t be that guy, Jesus teaches, the guy who scoffs and sulks when his father welcomes a lost and then repentant brother back into the fold—where he is safe, sound, and saved-- with joy and a big celebration.
Don’t be that guy who single-mindedly seeks goods solely for himself—and hoards those possessions—while ignoring not just the cries of the needly, but also ignoring the state of his own soul, and ignoring the shortness of life as he moves towards his last earthly night.
Don’t be that guy who has such a keen eye that he can detect the smallest specks of moral failure in others but is unaware of his own huge and calamitous moral blind spots.
Well, there are many other similar examples of the searching teachings of Jesus that include such figures who are meant to warn us. And the parable before us today, the parable of ‘The Unforgiving Servant’ is one of them. I doubt you will have missed its meaning.
II
We can spot the hypocrisy of the anti-hero. We can spot his greed. Immediately we can these things. Jesus knows how to put together a vivid story, doesn’t he? In just a few short words we see that though this character is given a fresh start in forgiveness, he is unwilling to extend the same fresh start to someone else. He’ll take mercy, and a lot of it. But he won’t show mercy, not even a drop of it. So, he is a living contradiction.
He is living a lie. And, he’s not just wrong. He is small. That is, he is not growing into a fuller and larger humanity—he’s not becoming a large-souled person—but he’s becoming nasty and brittle. His humanity is shrinking.
It’s not difficult to find real-life examples of this kind of shrinking of the soul. Our 32nd President, Franklin Delano Roosevelt had a tough man in his cabinet named Louis Howe. And the story is told of Howe treating someone rudely in front of Eleanor Roosevelt, FDR’s wife. She asked him why he was so ill-mannered toward the man. “Don’t you remember,” Howe said, “how he slighted your husband years ago?” “Well, no, that’s all been forgotten,” she said, meaning “forgotten and forgiven.” To which, Howe replied, “I never forget,” meaning he never forgave. (Adapted from Scott Hoezee Center for Preaching Excellence, Commentary on Matthew 18:212-25)
Well, that’s a real-life instance of a negative example of what I am calling a shrinking humanity. My theme today, though, is its positive, and wonderful opposite: that is, the calling that is before us today, and always before us, is to grow into a fuller humanity, to be liberated from the bonds that come with not knowing God’s mercy and not extending it. I’ll end with a positive, real-life example, after making one important comment about the place of this story in Matthew’s gospel.
III
This parable comes after Jesus has instructed his followers to hold one another accountable, and how to do it. If your brother or sister sins against you, go talk to him or her, he taught. Keep it between the two of you. If you can’t work things out, then bring others in from the community to help you find a way forward. All along the way, keep things respectful.
So, when he answers Peter’s question, that we heard today, “How many times should I forgive someone who sins against me?” by saying, “Always” (seven times seven) the disciples know that he is not saying overlook sin, or look the other way, or count it as nothing, No, he is saying forgive the sin. And do so because you must be ever mindful of the mercy shown to you.’ (Commenting on this passage, the great Augustine said that anytime we do hold others accountable, we are to see ourselves as a physician who dares mention another’s sin as a part of the body or soul to be treated, without wounding the patient’s person. The character in the parable, as we heard, goes for the throat. He wanted to take the man out. )
IV
Well, on Labor Day I finished reading an inspirational book that I began earlier this summer. It’s a story appropriate, first, to the gospel lesson because it’s about the liberation that forgiveness can bring. And it’s a story, second, appropriate to the beginning of a new program year because it’s a reminder of the importance of Christian parenting and the role of the local congregation.
Here it is. (Shows the book). Its title is “Can I give him my eyes?” And the inside cover has the subtitle: “The Inspiring Story of a Boy Blinded in War Who Found Freedom In Forgiveness.” In 1972 in Northern in the city of Derry, Richard Moore lost his sight. The title comes from what his father, Liam said, when the doctors told him Richard would no longer see. Richard was ten years old – when he was struck by a rubber bullet fired by a British soldier, as Richard was walking home from school, walking past an army base. The army base was there as the British were trying to keep a lid on the violence in Northern Ireland.
The soldier would later say that he fired the bullet to break up a group of boys who were throwing stones and that he didn’t see the young boy, Richard, who was closer to the encampment and was not throwing stones, if indeed any of the boys were even throwing stones. This is still a disputed matter.
In any event, thirty-three years after the incident, Richard would privately meet with the soldier who shot him. And eventually a documentary was made of Richard’s life. And it was—and still is—a very full life.
- He founded Children in Crossfire (in 1996 a charity devoted to vulnerable and disabled children worldwide)…which led to meetings with the Dalai Lama and the Pope….
- He went to school, he learned to play the guitar and formed a folk band.
- He earned a University degree.
- He bought and ran two pubs
- He married and had two children
- Eventually he wrote the book I just held up
From virtually day one, Richard accepted what happened and just got on with his life. Here are some of things he says in the book
- I thank God for the resilience I had
- I managed my blindness, I didn’t let it manage me
- I am thankful for the blessed life I had “in spite of or even because of” my blindness
- I hope my life can serve as a testimony that one can have a full life despite a great calamity
But also from virtually Day One of his gruesome injuries and loss of his sigh, he also forgave the man who shot him. When he wrote the book, he marveled that this way so. Why did this come so immediately, so naturally to him? When he met the Dalai Lama at a fund raiser, and told the Tibetan leader his story, he included this: that he had always been forgiving. The Dalai Lama, said, “You might be blind, but you can see further than people with sight.” Richard was silent for awhile. Then said, “Would you please call my wife and tell her that? Which sent the room, the Dalai Lama, and Richard himself into deep laughter. (And the book is full of humorous events….Richard once corrected an announcer at a soccer game who misstated the score…..once told his fellow Irishman who was chauffeuring him around in the US that he thought the man pulled out onto the wrong side of the road…which he did….on the left not the right…saving them both from a crash…and on and on…not a heavy, melodramatic read at all….despite the severity of the injury.)
But back to his forgiveness. He attributed his immediate and natural feeling of forgiveness to his parents, to the humble, modest Christian witness they bore to the way of mercy and love. They never stoked resentment or anger, he wrote. Never. They were Roman Catholics, and they were supported as Richard was, by the local congregation. And so, it was them that he mentioned at the end of the book, and them to whom he dedicated it at the outset writing, “to wonderful parents whose world was shattered by the blinding of their son ten-year-old son. You faced your hurt with dignity and tremendous courage. I am so proud to be your son. Thank you for your example of forgiveness.”
So, you see, how appropriate this true story is to counter the anti-example of today’s parable. Richard was schooled by the positive example of his parents. They were not the “Unforgiving Servants” but “Forgiving Servants” day by day. And as we begin a new program year, we might think ‘same-old, same old, humdrum routines, getting up for church school, making it hear, taking in stories, most of which we’ve heard before. Nothing dramatic happening here: No hoopla like political conventions where streamers float and confetti falls from the sky, and so forth.’ No, none of that. But what happens here, steadily and quietly, is the chance to be remade through prayer, praise, proclamation, so that our souls can become more and more like Jesus and like those who have stayed close to Him.
May it be so. Amen.