Matthew 18.21-35

Anna Tew
Pentecost 18+, A
14 September 2008
Matthew 18.21-35

Apparently, we are supposed to forgive each other.

It often seems to me that we are vindictive from childhood. Now, I want to say that it is a learned behavior to always want retribution. When I was a child, for example, I’d often complain to my dad that my brother hit me, and the response would come quickly: “Well, don’t be a wuss, hit him back.” Still, these behaviors are not always learned in children either. I doubt that most of us were taught to hit the other children on the playground back, or to go and tattle immediately when someone stole our cookie. It seems almost inherent in us: we want justice when we are wronged.

As some of you know, I did my senior thesis last year on the subject of hell. Now, whatever your theological opinions on the reality (or nonreality) of hell, I found that most peoples throughout history started with a view of the afterlife that did not include punishments for the wicked or rewards for the good. Remember the Disney cartoon, Hercules? In that cartoon there is a depiction of Hades’ underworld realm. Everyone goes there – good and bad alike – to spin in a little pool of souls. The Hebrew sheol, or grave, is much the same way. Everyone goes there when they die. After awhile, however, views of the afterlife begin to change. People can’t seem to take the notion that everyone will end up in the same place, especially when bad people on earth are not always punished. So, slowly, our philosophies about what happens after death evolve to form punishments and rewards.

In short, we want justice. People need to learn a lesson or two.

I’m kind of the same way. I mean, I don’t really want people to go to hell in any sense. But I can be pretty vindictive. I spend most mornings in Atlanta on a shuttle that runs from North Dekalb mall, near my apartment, to Emory University, where I attend seminary. There are mornings when it’s far far too early and I have a headache for whatever reason and my hair is doing all kinds of fun things and I’m being bounced mercilessly around this bus, trying to keep my coffee from spilling because if it spills I will surely die. Inevitably, there is some person standing close to me who is either, A) being really loud, B) has a huge bag and is hitting me with it, C) is stepping on my toes, or D) all of the above. And I’m usually sitting there trying to find a way to shove them out at the next stop without anyone noticing that they did not want to get off there.

Yes. There are times when we will get highly irritated with people, both those we know and those we don’t know. Sometimes, your roommate will have loud people over really late at night when you have a test the next day. Sometimes people will step on my toes on the bus. Sometimes the campus police will deem it necessary to block off a pretty important road on game day and create a huge… mess … that you have to help clean up. You want to go off on somebody. We want to yell at the next cop we see. I want to shove people off buses. You want to put ex-lax in your roommate’s soup when she leaves it on the stove.

And you know, it’s not all that hard to control most of those urges. You might speak your mind, but you’re not actually going to alter the chemical makeup of anyone’s soup so that it will have adverse effects on his or her digestive tract.

Sometimes offenses are more serious. Sometimes you are hurt, betrayed, or manipulated emotionally. Sometimes it’s a combination of all of those things. There are times when someone you trusted – a friend, a romantic partner, a parent – causes you immense pain that it takes years to erase. And it is perfectly natural to react in a number of ways. It’s natural to go through a cycle of reactions. Sometimes you’re just broken. Other times you deny that it happened. And sometimes you’re incredibly angry and you want justice.

But Jesus is smarter than that. Jesus has a better way.

Jesus knows that revenge only causes more pain. Jesus knows that to carry a grudge is to always be hurt. Jesus knows that you can give more to your immediate community and to the world if you can just let go.

And you know, Jesus also knows about your debt. It seems that Jesus knows that forgiveness is a difficult issue for us. So he breaks it down. He tells a story. In the story, there is a servant who owes a lot of money. Okay, a lot is an understatement. Basically, dude has borrowed money from his master for something like a few fleets of BMWs. Or twenty or so large condos in Los Angeles. Or both. I mean, Jesus uses an outrageous amount of money. Anyway, his master is ready to do away with the guy and sell him and his family into slavery because there is no way any of them is going to live long enough to see this debt paid off. But the servant begs and pleads with his master. Give me time! I’ll pay everything. Now, the master knows that that is impossible. But Jesus says that the master took pity on him. He lets him go. Jesus simply says that he canceled the debt.

Now, I’m going to use my supreme sense of allegory to say that this first servant is, you know, us. None of us can even begin to pay back God for all that God has done for us. Nor can we make it up to God for all the stupid things we’ve done in God’s sight. Nor can we do enough to make up for everything left undone because of opportunities we’ve lost. Jesus knows that. But he canceled the debt.

In the same way, we’ve all been forgiven by people for doing dumb things. We’ve hurt and betrayed and manipulated people, too. But many of those debts have also been canceled. So the good news about this forgiveness thing is that it’s a two way street. Jesus didn’t simply say “forgive” without reminding us that we too have been forgiven. Jesus says to forgive because we’ve been forgiven.

On Tuesday, I attended chapel at Candler, and the man who preached on this text there brought up an important point besides these obvious ones that I have mentioned. What are we supposed to tell those people in our churches and communities who are repeatedly hurt by someone? What re you supposed to tell the child that is repeatedly sexually abused by a family member? What are you to tell the guy or girl in your class who keeps going back to an emotionally manipulative romantic partner? What are you supposed to tell the battered spouse to do about his or her abusive partner? What do you tell those who are constantly asked to give more and more pain? Simply to forgive as you have been forgiven?

This is where the “extras” in Jesus’ story come in. After the servant had been forgiven his great debt, he later sees another servant and violently demands that he be repaid a few dollars. He has him thrown in prison. This is where, Jesus says, the community responds. He says, “When the other servants saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed and told their master everything…” This is where, when someone or some institution creates such an injustice to another person or group, it is the responsibility of the community to stand up and say NO. Whether it is a battered spouse, an abused child, those who are pushed off the city streets with nowhere else to go, or an entire group of people who has been labeled in a certain way and pronounced unordainable, it is the church’s responsibility to see injustices and to do something about them. We must act in a way that makes it possible to live in a community where everyone is loved, accepted, and forgiven.

We, apparently, are to love and forgive each other. We are also to act in such a way that facilitates a community of forgiveness and love and acceptance. We are to forgive petty offenses. We are to forgive huge hurts. We are to accept forgiveness. And we are also to know when it is time to stand up and say NO to injustices done to our brothers and sisters. And we are always to remember, first – that our debt has been canceled

Amen.