Paid in Full Sermon
based onMatthew 18:21-35 by Rev. Randy Quinn
(Begin sermon prior to Reading Text)
You may have heard
the story of the woman who spent the first day after her divorce sadly
packing her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases.1
On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things.
On the third day,
she sat down on the floor in the dining room by candlelight, put on
some soft background music, and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of
caviar, and a bottle of Chardonnay. When she had finished, she went
into each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimp and
caviar into the hollow of the curtain rods. She replaced the end caps
on the curtain rods, cleaned up the kitchen, and left.
When the ex-husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss
for the first few days.
Then slowly, the
house began to smell. They tried everything: cleaning, mopping, and
airing the place out. Vents were checked for dead rodents, and carpets
were steam cleaned. Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Exterminators
were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which time they had
to move out for a few days; and they even paid to replace the
expensive wool carpeting.
Nothing worked.
People stopped
coming over to visit. Repairmen refused to work in the house. The maid
quit. Finally, they couldn’t take the stench any longer and decided to
move.
A month later, even
though they had cut their price in half, they couldn’t find a buyer
for their stinky house. Word got out, and eventually, the local
Realtors refused to return their calls. Finally, they had to borrow a
huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place.
The ex-wife called
the man, and asked how things were going. He told her they were
selling the house but didn’t tell her the real reason. She listened
politely, and said she missed her old home terribly, and would be
willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the
house back.
Thinking his ex-wife
had no idea about the smell, he agreed on a price that was about 1/10th
of what the house had been worth, but only if she were to sign the
papers that very day. She agreed, and within the hour his lawyers
delivered the paperwork for her to sign.
A week later, the
man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving
company pack everything to take to their new home – including the
curtain rods.
Most of us enjoy
hearing a story like that – especially if we’ve been wronged by
someone. We like to hear about people “getting even.”
Our enjoyment,
however, points to an underlying reality – the reality that we really
are vengeful. We don’t want to admit it, perhaps, but we prefer to see
people get even rather than to forgive.
And when Jesus
invites us to pray, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who
trespass against us,” we fully understand the sentiment of the man who
always pretended to forget the words of the Lord’s Prayer – because he
didn’t want to forgive his former partner for swindling him out of his
business.
Rare, in our
society, is the story of forgiveness. The news media was astounded at
the way the Amish community in Pennsylvania forgave the man who killed
their children two years ago, in part because the story is so rare.
Jesus, however,
envisions a church where that is not rare, but the norm. He tells a
parable that invites us to explore our own willingness to forgive. He
uses a few words that we may not fully comprehend, so let me do some
“defining” before I read our text.
The first word I
want to define is actually used second. It’s the word denarius
and its plural form, denarii. A denarius is a small silver
coin, about the size of a dime. It was commonly used as a measure of a
day’s wage.
The second word is
talent. We know that word, but in the context of our passage
today, it’s a measurement of silver that is more akin to our use of
the word “ton.” It is a vast amount of silver, about 10,000 times more
than a denarius.
Hear now, the Gospel
lesson for today.
Read
text
I’m not sure how
somehow racks up a debt comparable to a national debt. He owes 10,000
talents, each worth about 10,000 denarii – using the current federal
minimum wage it would be the equivalent of $5,200,000,000. And while
it’s hard to imagine how he amassed that debt, it’s equally
inconceivable to think that anyone could pay it off. And while we no
longer live in a society where humans can be bought and sold, it’s
also hard for me to imagine anyone could be worth that much money,
either. Not even Tiger Woods or Michael Phelps.
But when he is
forgiven, he continues living the way he always has. Being a forgiven
servant doesn’t make him a forgiving servant. He demands payment from
a relatively small debtor – taking drastic action to get that debtor’s
family to pay it off in order to free him from jail.
The unforgiving
servant – the one who was forgiven – has revealed his emotional
immaturity in that he thinks the world revolves around his self. He
obviously hasn’t read Rick Warren’s book, The Purpose Driven Life.
The first line of the first chapter says, “It’s not about you”.2
The forgiven servant
is trying to get as much as he can – no matter where it comes from.
Over $5 billion of someone else’s money squandered. Now another $5,000
is being demanded from a co-worker.
It’s no wonder their
fellow servants were aghast at his actions.
How many of you have
children or grand-children involved in sports?
I remember sitting
at one of those early soccer games, when the stated purpose was to
teach the children the rules of the game and how to work as a team. It
was clear that the children who had older siblings were the only ones
who had any idea how to kick the ball, let alone how to work their way
down the field.
What I remember most
clearly, however, was the way some parents screamed and shouted. What
I remember was having a parent ask afterwards what the score was. I
remember because the rules we had been given specifically stated that
scores would not be kept. It wasn’t about winning or losing, but
learning how to work as a team.
Some people insisted
on keeping score anyway. And some people thought it was about
individual performance rather than teamwork. Those same parents were
the ones who believed it mattered if our team won or lost.
But the real problem
with keeping score is that we tend to see what we want to see – and we
only keep track of the things we’re expecting.
If one of my pet
peeves is that Ronda keeps forgetting to shut the garage door, for
example, I might begin counting the number of times she leaves it
open. I’ll keep my eyes focused on that one thing. What I won’t count,
however, is the number of times she remembers to close it; nor will I
take the time to count the number of times that I leave it
open.
When we begin to
keep score, there are no winners, there are only losers. And what
suffers the most is the relationship we’re in.
One pastor tells the
true story of two members of her congregation that worked for the same
corporation.3
The supervisor discovered that the other member had embezzled
thousands of dollars from the company by changing the books.
When he confronts
him about it, however, he begins by asking if he had been at church
this week. They both were. So he begins by saying, “We are brothers in
Christ first. That will not change. We are both sinners who have been
forgiven. What will change is what your future will look like as a
consequence of your actions.” He then went on to explain what he had
uncovered and how he was obligated to report it.
The consequences
included a loss of his job – and even some jail time. And while
strained by the difficult issues, they were able to continue caring
for one another – because they put their relationship above the
misconduct.
The point of the
parable Jesus tells is to remind us that we have been created to be in
relationship with one another as well as with God. When God opens the
possibilities of a loving relationship with us by offering forgiveness
of our sins; it’s also an invitation for us to respond to the sins of
others with open hearts.
I don’t know how
many of you have read The Shack, by William Young (Windblown,
2007). It’s a fictional story about Mackenzie, a man who confronts God
at the shack where his daughter was brutally murdered. I hope I don’t
ruin the story for those who might want to read it, but near the end
of the story, Mack is asked to consider forgiving the man who took his
daughter’s life.
It’s a painful and
poignant scene as he realizes that he’s actually unable to forgive
God for loving the murderer – even though he knows himself to be
unlovable, too, and therefore he isn’t worthy of God’s forgiveness
either.
That is the real
mystery of faith, though. We know our debt is enormous. We know we can
never repay what we owe.
But God finds a way
to forgive the debt – to pay it in full – and then simply asks us to
live with such gratitude that we can forgive others who may have
wronged us in one way or another.
Here is part of what
God says to Mack:
“Son, you may have
to declare your forgiveness a hundred times the first day and the
second day, but the third day will be less and each day after, until
one day you will realize that you have forgiven completely.”4
Forgiveness isn’t
easy. Nor does it require the other person to be repentant. As I said
a few weeks ago, though, reconciliation requires both. Reconciliation
can only be done in the context of a trusting relationship where
repentance and forgiveness are both present.
Seventy-seven times
Jesus tells Peter to forgive someone – or in some translations,
seventy times seven. A large enough number that we will lose count if
we try to keep track, large enough that we may also begin to see how
many times we need to be forgiven as well.
You see, our
debt has been paid in full. Not because we deserved it, but because
God decided the possibility of a relationship is more important than
allowing sin to prevent it. How we respond is up to us. God’s desire
is that we use our forgiveness as a beginning point for a new and
healthy relationship – with God and with one another.
Let us pray:
Holy and
Forgiving God: Your love for us is too hard for us to fathom. While we
cannot understand it, we know we can accept it. Give us the courage to
confess our sins and to repent of our sin so that we might learn to
walk in a new relationship with you, learning to live as your children
– children of light and love who share your grace – even with those
who have wronged us. We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.
2 The Purpose Driven Life (Zondervan, 2002), p. 17
3 Told by Susan Langhauser in Lectionary Homiletics
(2002), p. 15.