September 15, 2002

Seventeenth Pentecost

Matthew 18:21-35; Romans 14:1-12; Exodus 14:19-31


I know you are going to find this story hard to believe—but just imagine that there was this audit of the books and what was found was that tens of millions—even hundreds of millions of dollars had been misdirected—shifted to accounts that did nothing for the business or share holders—millions of dollars—and when caught—the person responsible said he was really sorry. Okay, so maybe this story isn’t so hard to believe yet—but now the story gets even stranger—because when the man said he was really sorry—and this all without benefit of legal counsel mind you—when the man says he is really sorry he is told everything is all right—all is forgiven.

When Jesus told this parable some 2,000 years ago there was nothing in the world to compare to an Enron or WorldCom or Tyco or Quest—the idea that anyone could cook the books well enough to vanish or even appropriate hundreds of millions of dollars was beyond most anyone’s wildest imagination. The parable was told with what was thought to be extreme exaggeration—almost an absurd story. In the parable the servant owed the king 10,000 talents—now a talent was roughly equal to 15 year’s wages of a common laborer. Assuming our minimum wage of a little over $5 per hour that ten thousand talents would be roughly equal to $2 billion dollars—“Don’t worry,” the servant said, “I’ll pay it back” $2 billion—But the king knew better and yet incredibly forgave the full debt. The parable is intended to cause us to wonder at the power of forgiveness—especially when we witness what happens next in the story—the servant forgiven the unbelievable debt immediately goes and locates someone who owed him 100 denarii—by today’s standards about $4,120—not exactly “chicken feed” unless you compare it to $2 billion as Jesus does here. This person likewise promised to make good on the debt if only given some time, but the steward refused and had him thrown into debtor’s prison until the total amount was worked off. When word of this got back to the king, he summoned the steward and castigated him for failing to show the same mercy to another that had been bestowed upon him. And beyond the tongue-lashing, the king withdrew his earlier debt-relief and ordered that the steward “be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. So the heavenly Father will also do to every one of you,” Jesus concluded, “if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

This is parable—not an allegory or a political critique of our day—but it strikes very close to home with its challenge to how we understand and relate to our world. This weekend’s edition of Forbes Magazine just announced the 400 richest people in the world—Bill Gates retained his first place position worth over $54 billion—but at least one of the 400 wealthiest listed their address as a prison cell and five of the current and former 400 list are linked closely to corporate scandals and criminal investigations. Most amazingly another poll measuring public trust found for the first time that in a list ranking who the public trusts most, lawyers ranked above accountants.

To Forgive. To forgive a debt—but it is not just money—its pension plans and retirement plans and health care systems and basic employment—it is the very livelihood of untold hundreds—even thousands—To forgive financial debt is a wonderful thing—especially when done to provide a true moment of grace—such as the Jubilee 2000 agreements that forgave global debts that helped many third world nations develop education and health care programs for a people that had previously been buried by debt—But we have problems when it comes to forgiving the debt of those who abuse the trust and confidence of people just trying to live their lives. We are more inclined to seek justice. And then comes the question of forgiving offenses of violence and evil. While grace and forgiveness are good and we desire them for ourselves—in the real world we also like justice and maybe even a little vengeance. A servant who shows no mercy—who fails to follow the example of the very grace he has received falls under a judgment that denies any further grace. The world is filled with judgments that challenge us to rethink our understanding of God—grace—and forgiveness.

The Old Testament lesson for today is part of what are referred to as the “war texts”—We have followed the story of the call of Moses through a burning bush and his deliverance of the people from Egypt through the miracle of the Passover—But in our lesson for today the story continues with the Israelite people fleeing Egypt pursued by the Pharoah’s army—and we encounter a story where God is clearly portrayed as bringing a form of divine judgment upon Egypt by drowning the pursing army in the Red Sea. Egypt had enslaved the Hebrew people—oppressed and abused them—this story clearly carries with it an element of God’s judgment on Egypt in the destruction of the mighty army. Naturally enough, our inclination is to assume the perspective of the Israelites. We believe that a just God will judge evil and will act on behalf of those who have been its victims. We see ourselves as God’s people, so we take a vested interest in God’s judgment of those who have oppressed us. It is both natural and appropriate that we should celebrate God’s ability to deliver us and to judge evil.

This past week as we remembered the events of September 11 a year ago—the cover photo in the Iraqi newspapers was a picture of the twin towers in flames with the headline—“God’s Judgment”. Most of us are angered by the thought of such a headline—but this headline does exactly what Jesus intended our parable to do—confront us with realities of our world and invite us to consider the true meaning of God’s vision for our lives and the world. Here is a reminder that those who live under God’s blessings of grace need to be careful. What we must be careful to avoid is the self-righteousness that is often found in those who see themselves as the beneficiaries of God’s deliverance. Simply having received grace does not assure that one will act with similar grace towards others—witness the forgiven servant in our parable. God’s greatest blessings are found in God’s grace—forgiveness. We might believe that we have brought judgment on the Taliban of Afghanistan and justice to Al-Qaida and other terrorists but forgiveness is not part of our vocabulary or battle plan. And our lessons for today would ask, “Where does that leave us before God?”

The evils of the world haunt our history—the Nazi Holocaust against the Jews and the “ethnic cleansing” of the Balkans and Rwanda remind us that forgiveness does not come easy. Nor do we have to look to atrocities against millions to find such offences. We have been reminded once again in recent months of the evils of abuse that occur even among what should be the most trusted institutions of our society. How does one forgive the destruction of a childhood—where is the justice? The arrogance of believing that one lives in God’s favor often blinds to the need for forgiveness and the place of grace in our lives. Forgiveness is not easy. Yet it is the only way to move beyond the past, through the present and into the future. Forgiveness is not saying , “Don’t worry about it.” Forgiveness is not toleration—not excusing an action or pretending it doesn’t matter. There are consequences to our actions and words—and forgiveness means a willingness to take responsibility—even if such responsibility seems to be absurd. Justice gives order to our world and community—but it does not open the future—it preserves the past by demanding that the past have equal standing with the future which limits our possibilities by restricting hopes and dreams to the hurts and pains of the past.

A servant said he would pay back the $2 billion debt—The master took him at his word and accepted the intention knowing the results could never follow—In South Africa there are truth commissions who hear from people who confess to the great evils they did under the rule of apartheid. The truth of the past is confessed in the light of the present—Everyone who hears knows that no one can restore the life of someone killed in racial hatred—no one can exact enough justice for the evils of past racism—So in the light of the present there is a call for a moment of grace that transcends the past—a moment of forgiveness but not forgetting.—Forgiveness is the surrendering of power over the offender—the giving up of grudges—pains—Forgiveness makes self healing possible. Genuine forgiveness is not denying or glossing over the offense—it is refusing to allow the past offense to determine and control the future. Let me repeat—it is refusing to allow the past offense to determine and control the future.

I would never presume to oversimplify the problems in the Middle East—but clearly the lack of forgiveness for recent and ancient offenses is a contributing factor. The Jews of Europe suffered a horrible evil in the Holocaust, and no one should fault them for seeing the deliverance of a remnant and the founding of a Jewish state as an act of divine deliverance for them on a par with the Exodus itself. But failing to forgive—living lives defined by the injustice that they suffered—can blind them to the injustices that Israeli occupation is inflicting on the Palestinians. By the same token, Palestinians cannot build a future on the illusion that “the Catastrophe” will be reversed—the past can not be changed. Both Israelis and Palestinians must learn to forgive the ancient and modern wrongs they have suffered if they are to build a future not held hostage to cycles of violence and revenge rooted in the past.

There is a critical need in our world today for us to understand the place of forgiveness and grace in a world that hungers for justice. Peace is not found in the destruction of armies—as Israel soon discovered as it journeyed further on its Exodus walk. Jesus tells the parable of forgiveness to remind us that God expects us to strive to forgive even as we have been forgiven. That’s the critical distinction—we do not deserve forgiveness—but we can forgive. Even the Lord’s Prayer reminds us—“Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us”—As Jesus taught us those words they are not “forgive us our sins because we forgive others”. You will notice that our forgiveness by God precedes our forgiving others. We forgive as a response to accepting God’s gift of forgiveness.

The ungrateful servant in our parable today never really accepted or believed he was forgiven—and by his actions—and in the end—that proved to be too true. God forgives us—so that we can forgive ourselves—and others. Enron—Saddam Hussein—Racism—Osama Bin Laden—Forgive—that does not remove the judgement of responsibility—the conviction of civil authority—international accountability—but forgive. To forgive is hard work—it means we are slow to presume power over another—we are careful to keep open ways to new relationships underserved but guided by a greater desire not for justice but pursuing a higher goal—peace. Israel would spend more than 40 years seeking the promised land—and then centuries striving to find peace—We learn slowly the lessons Christ taught—Forgiveness does not come easy—especially for our enemies. Two Billion dollars takes a lot of forgiveness—3,000 deaths even more—I struggle—we all struggle—All I can do is ask for God’s help and God’s grace to show me the way. And that is when I hear a voice saying, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Amen.