Mercy 3

             Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. As he began the settlement, a man who owed him ten thousand bags of gold was brought to him. Since he was not able to pay, the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt.

            At this the servant fell on his knees before him. “Be patient with me,” he begged, “and I will pay back everything.” The servant’s master took pity on him, canceled the debt and let him go.

            But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred silver coins. He grabbed him and began to choke him. “Pay back what you owe me!” he demanded.

            His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, “Be patient with me, and I will pay it back.”

            But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt. When the other servants saw what had happened, they were outraged and went and told their master everything that had happened.

            Then the master called the servant in. “You wicked servant,” he said, “I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?”   In anger his master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed. (Matthew 18:23-34)

 

            Jesus told this story in response to Peter’s question about how often he should forgive others. The debt we each owe the king is far larger than any debts we owe to one another. And our being merciful is one of the keys to accessing God’s mercy. This passage makes it clear that forgiveness and mercy have a close connection.

            But this story is also our world today (just as it was Peter’s world back in the First Century.) We are told that we owe reparations, not because we did something to someone as individuals, but because someone like us in some way did something to someone like the person demanding the reparations. We are told that we owe a certain level of income, health care, etc.

            In White Guilt, Shelby Steele shares a story about a Civil Rights activist he met at some shindig. During the conversation, the activist pointed out all the good he had done for the Black community and his irritation that the Black community was not showing him the gratitude they owed him. Some activists now consider it perfectly appropriate to use the legal system to extract from others what they claim the others owe society or some group or throttle those they claim to owe them.

            Nor are those nasty activists the only ones who do this. We all claim that others owe us, and demand payment, whether in dollars or behavior. Think of the complaint parents make… “I work my fingers to the bone, put food on the table, clothes on their backs, and make sure they have all this stuff…and this is the thanks I get?” We can even take this down to the tiny things – “They never send me thank you notes for the gifts I give them,” and “That rude customer didn’t thank me and didn’t even leave a tip!”

            What changes would happen if we stopped seeing other people as owing us something? I’m not suggesting that we encourage irresponsibility in others by canceling financial debts. Let’s start with something smaller and simpler. What if we stopped thinking that other people owe us? It’s one thing if someone has borrowed $500 from us. They have a legitimate debt to us. But what if we stopped considering someone to be indebted to us just because we encountered them, or because they exist?  Or, what if we canceled our debts to ourselves? What if we started showing mercy with those comparatively little things?