Matthew 18:21-35 (NRSV)
Forgiveness
21 Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” 22 Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.
The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant
23 “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. 24 When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; 25 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. 26 So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ 27 And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. 28 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.’ 29 Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ 30 But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. 31 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. 32 Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. 33 Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ 34 And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. 35 So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”
Matthew 18:21-35 (Year A September 11-17) contains reflections on forgiveness. It deals with how many times one should forgive. The parable of the unforgiving slave in 18:23-35 has the same message.
In Matt 18:21-22 (Luke 17:4), is a dialogue between Peter and Jesus establishing a church rule on forgiveness. It stresses that part of the ordinary everyday life of the disciples is expressed by an untiring capacity to forgive members of the community.[1] Peter addresses Jesus as Lord (Κύριε) and asks him how often he must forgive his brother or sister who sins against him. He wonders if seven is enough. However, Jesus said to him, I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times. As we reflect upon this matter, let us remember the saying of another wise man: let us remember a wise saying, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”[2] Unique to Matthew, the saying occurs in the context of Peter asking that if a member of the community sins against him, should he forgive as many as seven times? To ask such a question, Peter knows the importance of forgiveness to Jesus. Jesus invited us to pray, “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” He wants to know the limits. In rabbinic discussion, rabbis frequently regarded four times as enough times to forgive. Peter's "seven times" may represent an attempt to exceed regulations, but it is not enough within the Christian community. Jesus offers an intensifying revision of contemporary Jewish law, much as he does in his earlier teachings on anger (5:21-26), adultery (5:27-30) and retaliation (5:38-42), to offer but three examples. The response of Jesus has some ambiguity, being either 77 times or 490 times (Luke 17:4). Matthew makes a change under the influence of Genesis 4:24, “If Cain is avenged sevenfold, truly Lamech seventy-sevenfold.” These verses establish the concern as to whether one’s forgiveness of others must be without limits. Jesus explicitly rejects “seven,” and suggests instead — what? Christians are to forgive one another in imitation of God and Jesus. The point is simple: Don’t keep count at all! There is to be no limit. There is no calibrating forgiveness, no satisfactory line is to be found along the path of calculating numbers of offenses. What are the limits of offering forgiveness? To ask the question is to acknowledge that our hearts are not in a good place. Forgiveness that arises from love for the other person and desire for the flourishing of the other person, regardless of the personal relationship, will not even ask the question. Forgiveness is a form of “self-renunciation,” giving up the right to pay back the person who hurt you.
Today, the feeling that someone has abused you is justification for revenge, wanting to balance the scales. We live in unforgiving times. Public self-righteousness is on the rise and the taste for revenge has never been greater. The capacity to forgive reveals a soul that is free of anxiety, one that is mature and equal to the complexity of human interaction. Forgiveness requires what Aristotle called “a great soul” and is captured in a virtue often ignored and not appreciated. This power of magnanimity lies between the extremes of vanity and timidity. When you forgive, you release yourself as well as the other person. You allow life to go on, to bypass your exaggerated sense of virtue and your worry about being offended. If you sit on your power to forgive, you suppress your joy in life. Forgiveness, if it comes from the right place in you, will free you from the resentment that will eat away at you. Thus, forgiveness is not about how it affects the other person. It could be meaningful to the other person if the other person repents, opening the possibility of reconciliation. However, forgiveness is important because of the benefits it offers to you. It will free you from the demand for justice and instead leave the other person in the hands of God.
All of us have a grievance story involving someone. It might be parents, a sibling, a teacher, a boss, or a neighbor. Your grievance story may be the nation in which you live and the wrongs you may justly feel it has inflicted upon you. Such a grievance story is usually taking something personally that was not necessarily intended that way, and then holding the other accountable for your feelings. When you blame someone for what you feel instead of hold them accountable for what they have done, you keep yourself stuck in victimhood and inaction. The path toward healing is to recognize that the ways you have dealt with the anger over the hurt someone has caused has not worked. It involves developing some level of understanding and compassion toward the offender. This will involve reframing the offender in a way that humanizes rather than demonizes. What has led the person to behave in this way?
An important part of healing my memories of an alcoholic father was the story he shared of when he joined the Navy during WWII. When he told his father, after whom I was named, of his plan, he turned to my grandmother and said, “Look at that, all this work to do here on the farm, and he leaves!” My dad then pounded his fist on the table as if the event happened yesterday and said, “That is all I ever was to him. A hired hand.” It helped me to have some empathy for his life journey. It helped me appreciate what he did give, which was likely all he could give: a roof over our heads, food on the table, and occasional vacations. We can also reframe the event, realizing that through the painful event and its memories we have learned and grown. For me, it meant that as oldest son, I sought to be a good son for my mother and a good brother to my four sisters.
John Newton is the author of some of our most beloved hymns, like “Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken,” and “Amazing Grace.” He contributed to the spirituality vitality of the church through his hymns. Yet, before his conversion, Newton participated for yeas in the cruel African slave trade. When Newton spoke in his hymn of “a wretch like me,” he was not just using poetic hyperbole. He was a wretched offender in the worst sort of way. However, in his conversion, Newton is also a symbol of the amazing grace of God. After his conversion, he became a pastor and worked for the abolition of slavery. Can you not feel the irony? A hymn from the heart of a former slave trader has become beloved by scores of African-American congregations. While Newton wrote the words, we do not know who wrote the tune. Some have said, with some justification, it is probably that the tune evolved from African folk music. Is not this beloved hymn a fitting symbol of Christian redemption and reconciliation?
Matthew 18:23-35 (unique to Matthew) is a narrative parable concerning the unforgiving slave.[3] It illustrates the effect of a limit on forgiveness that Peter proposed. Yet, the parable itself says nothing about repeatedly forgiving.[4] The parable of the unmerciful servant exhibits marks of both oral tradition and exaggerations typical of the stories of Jesus. The fantastic character of the story is also typical of the parables of Jesus. The ambiguity of the story is a feature of many parables of Jesus. Although the point about the need to forgive is clear, the parable offers two characters who do not forgive. It could make its point by irony, as if to say, “Do not forgive, and see what happens.” Jesus offers another parable that helps us understand the rule of God. The good news is the cancellation of a large debt, and because of this forgiveness of such an enormous, incomprehensible debt, the disciple can forgive others. Such divine forgiveness means God has a claim on the life of the one forgiven.[5]
23 “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king (ἀνθρώπῳ βασιλεῖ, literally, “a man, a king” a provincial official). Perhaps that awkward phrase deliberately sets up a contrast between the actions of the human king with what is to be expected from the divine King of heaven. The “king” is a provincial official in charge of tax collections. This official was one who wished to settle accounts with his slaves (referring to higher officials). 24 The breaking in of the rule of God is compared to an accounting. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents (10 million dollars) was brought to him (from prison?), the amount suggesting a satrap who was responsible for the revenue from a province; 25 and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children (500-2000 denarii), all this forbidden by Jewish law and suggesting this is a gentile official, but also the sale of the family does not come close to paying the debt, and all his possessions, and payment to be made. Given that none of this will equal the debt, the point is that these actions are expressions of the anger of the official. The reason for the debt seems unimportant for this parable. This provincial official is hardly a good man! The magnitude of the debt is designed to impress the audience for what is coming. 26 So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience (Μακροθύμησον, extending a long time, endure, longsuffering, occurring in Luke 18:7 as well) with me, and I will pay you everything.’ How the slave will repay such a massive debt is not under discussion. 27And out of pity (Σπλαγχνισθεὶς,moved with compassion, which in every other case in Matthew is what motivates the behavior of Jesus toward the crowds and those in need, human emotion is described in the strongest terms to bring, shown in basic and decisive attitude in human acts[6]) for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. The mercy of the official exceeds the plea of the servant. The human official initially acts in accord with God by forgiving the servant. As readers, we are happy with this outcome at this point. The mercy of God is unlimited and the debt is incalculably great. The patience of God to which the debtor appeals consists in the full and unsurpassable readiness of generous and forgiving grace, bringing upon the man who has received such patience the expectation that he will alter his attitude to his neighbors, who may owe a debt, but it is finite and manageable.[7] 28 But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii (100 dollars); and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ 29 We now discover that the servant is hardly a nice man, even as we discovered that the official is far from a nice man. He may well not have been worthy of forgiveness in the first place. The reason he was in such large debt to the official may well be because he was a scoundrel. Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, in words identical with what the first servant used to his master, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ This servant is a minor official for whom even a small debt will be difficult.30 But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. The point would be that his family would pay off the debt. We are surprised by the servant, who has just stimulated a merciful act by the official through his appeal for patience. The story reinforces that the servant is hardly a nice man. The act of putting someone in prison as punishment for not repaying a debt was a widespread practice in the ancient world. Yet, the failure of the slave to imitate the act of forgiveness he had received is striking. At this point, the story contrasts the responses of the two figures in the story, the secular ruler and the first slave. One is willing to forgive a staggering obligation, the other refuses to cancel a paltry sum. The parable invites the listener to choose the appropriate mode of behavior. 31 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. Those friends react to the course of events as do those listening to the parable: they want justice for their friend, and punishment for the first slave. These slaves also have some failure of forgiveness in that they demand what is owed by the standards of justice and forgiveness established by the initial act of forgiveness offered by the king. If the “unforgiving slave” will not pay the debt of gratitude owed to the king for his graciousness, then he, too, should be imprisoned. As readers, then, we are under the same consideration. In our demand for justice toward the unforgiving slave, we have revealed our vengeful spirit over any merciful and forgiving spirit we may have. 32 Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. 33 Should you not have had mercy (ἐλεῆσαι, a quality blessed by Jesus in the beatitudes in 5:7), and a quality of which those in desperate need cried to Jesus for) on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ Mercy has a close relationship to the goodness of God, and is an expression of that goodness.[8] 34 And in anger (ὀργισθεὶς) his lord handed him over to be tortured (βασανισταῖς, referring to the type of jailor who tortures a prisoner as part of judicial examination) until he would pay his entire debt. The story gives us as listeners, in the person of the fellow slaves, what we wanted, justice toward the unforgiving slave. The human king agrees with the slaves and reverts to demanding payment of the debt of the first slave. The vengeful little servant and the vengeful big ruler exhibit the same qualities. We then realize that neither the ruler nor the unforgiving slave was Mr. Nice Guy! Initially, the ruler was willing to sell the family of the servant to pay off this large debt. The unforgiving servant has accumulated such a large debt, through nefarious behavior, given his treatment of a fellow servant who owed him a paltry sum. Of course, part of the point is that we are too much like the servant who does not forgive the behavior of others toward us and the ruler who reaches the end of his patience and exacts justice. The powerful official now fails to forgive again by revoking the benefits of the initial act of forgiveness. The official becomes an illustration of what happens if we put a limit on forgiveness. The resulting damage goes far beyond just the personal plight of the slave “handed over to be tortured”; if the king’s clemency can be withdrawn, then the whole social order is thrown into chaos.[9] Thus, the ending sows confusion for listeners, who now do not know how they are to respond. It depicts God as vindictive whose mercies are dependent upon human behavior. Jesus often builds ambiguity into his parables. Jesus concludes with an application of the parable that is consistent with the meaning of the parable: 35 So my heavenly Father (“Our Father, who is in heaven) will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”[10] The parable ends with suggesting that while human beings who want to exhibit being part of the rule of God must extend limitless forgiveness, God has a limit on forgiveness because of the need for justice. God is like the provincial official in one respect, for God punishes those who do not forgive. Something inside us is happy when the master forgives the large debt, angry when that slave does not forgive the paltry debt owed by a fellow servant, and we join the friends in going to the master to demand justice. Human experience cries out for both justice and mercy. We need both. This conclusion suggests that it is best to leave justice in the hands of the heavenly Father while we practice mercy and forgiveness. Forgiveness from the heart is contrasted with a forgiveness that is only with the lips. Everything depends on the genuineness of the forgiveness. Thus, the parable is about the Last Judgment, combining exhortation with warning. God extended the offer of forgiveness in the gospel, a merciful gift beyond conceiving, but God will revoke the forgiveness of sin if you do not wholeheartedly share the forgiveness you have experienced with others. While apocalyptic taught that at the Last Judgment God will only make use of the measure of judgment, Jesus taught that the measure of mercy remains in force at the Last Judgment. God will use the measure of mercy toward those who have received divine forgiveness in a way that produces in them readiness to forgiven.[11]
How are we as listeners to respond to this? The deepest secret of the love of God that characterizes discipleship is that disciples have learned how to forgive. They extend to others the divine forgiveness that they have experienced, a forgiveness that passes all understanding.[12] The parable ends with suggesting that the heavenly Father responds toward people in the ways they demonstrate by their actions that they wish to be treated. Those who demand justice or a limit upon forgiveness should expect the heavenly Father to do the same. Those who move fully into the realm of forgiveness will find the heavenly Father already there forgiving them and helping them find forgiveness in their hearts for others. Do we really want a world in which the demand for justice is primary? Alternatively, do we really want the world of the rule of God that will make forgiveness and mercy primary? Such a conclusion suggests that we best leave justice in the hands of the heavenly Father while we practice mercy and forgiveness. The heavenly Father has cancelled the debt that no human being could repay, so we ought to forgive any debt a human being owes to us. The members of the community need to forgive each other. You as a follower of Jesus have received divine forgiveness, so part of the summons Jesus offers to enter the rule of God now is the readiness to forgive others.[13] The rule of God has its basis in mercy and forgiveness rather than a strict demand for justice.
Allow me to add that Jesus is the notable example of forgiveness. The unjust trial, the unjust labeling of him as a blasphemer of God and a potentially violent rebel, the abandonment by his closest friends in his time of need, and the torture that would end with the cross, were plenty of reason to end his life on a note of revenge and hatred. Yet, as the risen Lord taught us, he forgave his friends, and he forgave the religious leaders, and forgave the sin of humanity that placed him there, on that cross. The cross is a symbol of the extent of human sin, but it has become for those who believe the symbol of the lengths to which love and forgiveness must go.
Application
Forgiveness is a form of “self-renunciation,” giving up the right to pay back the person who hurt you. Here is at least one way of looking at our times. When we are mistreated, we are urged to get revenge or to withdraw from the conflict. Our culture nourishes revenge and mocks grace. People constantly criticize each other online, sometimes crossing over into cyberbullying. On a personal level, individuals feel offended and quickly pursue revenge, wanting to balance the scales. But often, people misunderstand the motives of others and jump to incorrect conclusions. We live in unforgiving times. Public self-righteousness is on the rise and the taste for revenge has never been greater.
The capacity to forgive reveals a soul that is free of anxiety, one that is mature and equal to the complexity of human interaction. Forgiveness requires what Aristotle called “a great soul” and is captured in a virtue often ignored and not appreciated. This power of magnanimity lies between the extremes of vanity and timidity. That is where forgiveness is to be found — that place uncovered when we get over our “too big” sense of self and grow out of our smallness of mind and spirit. The Greek word for forgiveness means release. When you forgive, you release yourself as well as the other person. You allow life to go on, to bypass your exaggerated sense of virtue and your worry about being offended. If you sit on your power to forgive, you suppress your joy in life.
Forgiveness is good for you. Not just for the person who needs to be forgiven, but for you. Forgiveness can enable you to regain your personal power. Forgiveness starts with a choice and then becomes a process. Jesus wants us to get stronger and healthier by making the decision to forgive, and then turning that choice into a process.
What are the limits of offering forgiveness? To ask the question is to acknowledge that our hearts are not in a good place. Forgiveness that arises from love for the other person and desire for the flourishing of the other person, regardless of the personal relationship, will not even ask the question.
Kathleen Norris tells of a Benedictine nun who is keeping vigil at the bedside of her dying mother. Seeking to comfort her mother, she says, “In heaven, everyone we love is there.” “No,” her mother responds, “in heaven I will love everyone who’s there.”[14] Such love is difficult here on earth. Forgiveness arises out of genuine love. We will not forgive if we do not love. We will not forgive if we do not get beyond the hurt, even the extremities of the hurt inflicted upon us by others, if we do not love them enough to desire the best for them. Forgiveness is not so much about the other person as it is about your life and heart. Forgiveness, if it comes from the right place in you, will free you from the resentment that will eat away at you. Thus, forgiveness is not about how it affects the other person. It could be meaningful to the other person if the other person repents, opening the possibility of reconciliation. However, forgiveness is important because of the benefits it offers to you. It will free you from the demand for justice and instead leave the other person in the hands of God.
All of us have a grievance story involving someone. It might be parents, a sibling, a teacher, a boss, or a neighbor. Your grievance story may be the nation in which you live and the wrongs you may justly feel it has inflicted upon you. Such a grievance story is usually taking something personally that was not necessarily intended that way, and then holding the other accountable for your feelings. When you blame someone for what you feel instead of hold them accountable for what they have done, you keep yourself stuck in victimhood and inaction. According to some studies, failure to forgive releases adrenaline, cortisol, and norepinephrine into the body. These chemicals are the same way we respond when encountering stressful situations. They also limit our creativity and problem-solving. If continued, it will lead to our feeling helpless and like a victim.
We need to engage in a process of healing. Uncovering anger means examining how you have both avoided and dealt with it and exploring how the offense and resulting anger has changed your health, worldview, and life in general. The phase involves learning about what forgiveness is and what it is not. When we say, “I forgive, but I will not forget,” we say it with the type of emotion that suggests we have not truly forgiven. As it stands, however, of course forgiveness does not we forget. It does not mean we tell the offender to forget it. We not try to convince ourselves that everything is okay. Rather, forgiveness is saying ''I'm okay, and I am willing to let God deal with whether you are okay, and I am also willing to let go of my need to be the tool of correction and rebuke in your life." Forgiveness is not saying "I no longer feel the pain." Rather, forgiveness is saying "I no longer feel the need to hold on to your involvement in my pain."[15]This stage of healing involves acknowledging that the ways you have dealt with your anger up until now have not worked, and setting the intention to forgive. Next, working on forgiveness entails confronting the pain the offense has caused and allowing yourself to experience it fully, then working toward developing some level of understanding and compassion for the offender. This will involve reframing the offender in a way that humanizes rather than demonizes. It involves understanding the offender. What has led the person to behave in this way? An important part of healing my memories of an alcoholic father was the story he shared of when he joined the Navy during WWII. When he told his father, after whom I was named, of his plan, he turned to my grandmother and said, “Look at that, all this work to do here on the farm, and he leaves!” My dad then pounded his fist on the table as if the event happened yesterday and said, “That is all I ever was to him. A hired hand.” It helped me to have some empathy for his life journey. It helped me appreciate what he did give, which was likely all he could give: a roof over our heads, food on the table, and occasional vacations. We can also reframe the event, realizing that through the painful event and its memories we have learned and grown. For me, it meant that as oldest son, I sought to be a good son for my mother and a good brother to my four sisters. To some degree, I suppose, it led to my desire to respect women, but that is another story. Such reframing of the person, group, or event that has caused pain can help one move forward in life. Painful events do not have to determine the rest of one’s life. The final phase includes acknowledging that others have suffered as you have and that you are not alone (for some, this means connecting with a support group of people who have endured a similar experience), examining what possible meaning your suffering could have for your life (learning a particular life lesson, perhaps contributing to one’s strength or character, or prompting one to help others), and taking action on whatever you determine to be your life purpose. [16]
John Newton is the author of some of our most beloved hymns, like “Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken,” and “Amazing Grace.” He contributed to the spirituality vitality of the church through his hymns. Yet, before his conversion, Newton participated for yeas in the cruel African slave trade. When Newton spoke in his hymn of “a wretch like me,” he was not just using poetic hyperbole. He was a wretched offender in the worst sort of way. However, in his conversion, Newton is also a symbol of the amazing grace of God. After his conversion, he became a pastor and worked for the abolition of slavery. Can you not feel the irony? A hymn from the heart of a former slave trader has become beloved by scores of African-American congregations. While Newton wrote the words, we do not know who wrote the tune. Some have said, with some justification, it is probably that the tune evolved from African folk music. Is not this beloved hymn a fitting symbol of Christian redemption and reconciliation?
[1]
[2] Mohandas Gandhi
[3]
[4]
[5]
[6] Koster, TDNT, VII, 554.
[7] Horst, TDNT, IV, 380.
[8]
[9] Bernard Brandon Scott (Hear Then the Parable, 277-280)
[10] I will grant that the parable suggests that if you act like the unforgiving servant, then God will act like the king who withholds forgiveness. Certainly, this would explain why Peter would not want to be unending in his forgiveness of others. In terms of context, one might see this parable as contradicting 18:21-22. Thus, to illustrate the point to Peter that no restraints should be set on forgiveness because of repeated need for it, Jesus relates a parable that culminates in forgiveness offered once but ultimately withdrawn. It hardly seems the most logically consistent pairing when you stop to think about it. For Matthew, the secular ruler is God, the first and second slaves are members of the Christian community. The point is that the community lives based upon the inconceivably great mercy and grace of God. The moral is that God will not forgive you if you do not forgive your fellow human beings. However, as not a few commentators have noted, this allegorizing of the roles within the parable creates the problem of why God should demand more of us (limitless forgiveness) than of the divine self — for the king not only does not forgive the servant even a second time but also withdraws forgiveness already given. Therefore, we might be better to think of the parable as illustrating that limiting forgiveness would not work. Either the system must be grounded in justice with everyone paying what they owe, or it must be grounded in forgiveness. If either justice or forgiveness appears to be arbitrarily meted out, then chaos will be the result. The hidden point is that the rule of God has its basis in mercy and forgiveness rather than a strict demand for justice. Maybe the evangelist does not want the king allegorized as God. Maybe the king, instead, illustrates the effects of what Peter proposed.
[11]
[12]
[13]
[14] Amazing Grace (New York: Riverhead, 1998), 367.
[15] --Timothy Merrill, Learning to Fall: A Guide for the Spiritually Clumsy, timothymerrill.net. 106ff. Kindle loc. 2246ff.
[16] Bettencourt, Megan Feldman. "The science of forgiveness: 'When you don't forgive you release all the chemicals of the stress response.'" Salon, salon.com. August 23, 2015.
