490 Times & Counting

“…in anger his master delivered him to the torturers, until he should pay all his debt. So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.” Matthew 18: 34—35

Dear Friends,

It’s a provocative story. A man who owes a gigantic debt has it forgiven, wiped from the books. He has the proverbial “new lease on life.” And how does he use his newfound freedom? He uses it to put a stranglehold on a co-worker who owes him a small sum. From the sidelines, we can boo and hiss at this villain. What a jerk. And we can cheer when he gets his comeuppance—the king who forgave the debt now sends him to the jailers—the original Greek cranks up the intensity, rendering “jailers” instead as “torturers.” “Yes—the bad guy got what he deserved. We can now go back to business as usual.”
But not so fast…Jesus wasn’t quite done…for he drops this at the end: “So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart." With this final twist, you and I are forced to participate in this provocative story. This story is not about finances owed; it’s about forgiveness owed. If you bear any resemblance to the villain in this story; if you have been forgiven a debt that you could never hope to repay, only to turn around and be unforgiving, you’ve got problems. Which means we’ve all got problems. If we don’t turn from our unforgiving ways, there are torturers in our future. Knowing this, we still ask, over and over: “Do I really have to forgive?” You know the answer and so do I.
Forgiveness is the heart and soul of the Christian faith. It’s why Jesus was tortured and died on the cross, so God could provide forgiveness, debt-free, to all. Forgiveness is what enables us to belong to God, and yet there something about forgiveness that just bewilders us. The question that prompted Jesus to tell this story in the first place is a good example. Good old Peter asked: “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?" Now, I’m sure Peter thought he was being overly generous when he said “seven times.” I mean, this is “three strikes and you’re out” times two plus one for good measure. Peter probably thought his suggestion of “up to seven times” was a very virtuous one. And truth be told, we probably do too. We might even think it’s a little much.
So what does Jesus think of Peter’s suggestion? He says, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.” Don’t hear that as a new number. Hear that as a new attitude. Hear that as, “there should be no limit to the forgiveness you offer to people.” To flesh out his point, Jesus then told the story about the unmerciful servant, and just in case his listeners didn’t get it, he spelled it out: “…in anger his master delivered him to the torturers, until he should pay all his debt. So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.”
That leaves all of us in an uncomfortable position. We know what we harbor. We know what we hang onto. We know what we withhold. If this Jesus-story is nothing more than a pep-talk to get us to go out there and be more merciful people, do you think it’ll work? If this story is nothing more than God’s way of saying: “Forgive others or else,” do you think it’s enough to change us? There’s got to be a better reason to forgive than fear of punishment. And—good news—there is.
The problem you and I have with forgiveness is not so much a “giving-of-forgiveness problem.” That’s a symptom. The real problem we have is a “receiving-of-forgiveness problem.” That was the unmerciful servant’s first mistake and it’s our mistake, more often than not.
Think about it. That servant was under an extraordinary debt, which was compounding daily. There was no chance that he could ever repay it. This meant for him total ruin of his life. And in a moment of mercy; a moment of compassion on the part of the King, the debt is cancelled. The debt is forgiven and it is gone. It is not as if the terms of the debt were re-negotiated. It is not as if now the servant has to work less or has less to pay off. He has nothing to pay off. He has no more work to do to get out from under this mountain. The threat of ruin is replaced with complete freedom. He has a life again. He has a family and a home again. And somewhere between the master’s office and his encounter with his fellow servant, he forgot what had been done for him. Or, even worse, he began to believe that he deserved what had happened to him. Doesn’t that sound stupid? He had a “receiving-of-forgiveness” problem. For whatever reason, he didn’t understand the magnitude of the gift he had been given, so it didn’t translate into new attitudes or actions.
And isn’t that the trap we fall into? You and I are under an extraordinary debt, a debt we owe God for sins committed, good works gone undone. There is no chance that we could ever repay it. This means for us total ruin of our lives, here and eternally. And in a moment of mercy; a moment of compassion on the part of the King, the debt is cancelled. The debt is forgiven and it is gone. He pays it off with His own blood. It is not as if the terms of the debt are re-negotiated. It is not as if now you have to work less or have less to pay off. You have nothing to pay off. The threat of ruin is replaced with complete freedom. You have a life again. You have a life again and you have options. Somewhere between the sanctuary and your next encounter with your fellow servant, will you forget what has been done for you? Or, even worse, will you begin to believe that you in some way deserve what has happened to you through Jesus Christ? Or will the magnitude of the gift you have been given dawn on you, so that it translates into new attitudes and actions? Will you realize that the mercy God showed you when he laid your sins on Jesus is the same mercy that he has for that brother of yours who continually sins against you? Will you see that the forgiveness the Son of God earned for you on Calvary’s cross and guaranteed in his Easter resurrection is the same forgiveness earned for your brother, or sister or whomever it is? Your brother’s pardon is the same as your pardon. Your sister’s forgiveness comes from the same place as your forgiveness. It all comes from Christ—His passion—His cross and suffering—His death—His resurrection! So forget about trying to dig deep for some feeling of forgiveness; forget about forcing yourself to forgive through an act of will—the only basis for your being able to forgive another person is the Word of the Lord concerning your forgiveness. You don’t say, and neither do I, “Because I am a good person, a patient guy, a merciful gal, I announce my forgiveness to you. Instead, you and I say, “In the name of Jesus, and by His authority, I forgive you.” In other words, forgiveness is not our work, it is Christ’s; if we are in Him and He in us, we won’t get in His way. We’ll receive and give His forgiveness, with His infinite love as our power source. With Him, seventy times seven is only the beginning. Amen.