The Parable of the Unmerciful

God is generous. We owe him an outrageous kind of debt. But what happens when we refuse to forgive another person? Jesus now teaches what happens–it’s frightening.

Matthew 18:22-34

God is generous. All that he does is grace. It’s also grace when we really meet another. He loves us, and we need to siphon that love to everyone we meet. When we come before the Lord, we don’t get the justice we deserve. He has forgiven us—the ten thousand ones.

God is generous. We owe him an outrageous kind of debt. Commentators list the modern value of 10,000 talents would be $1 billion USD. Granted this is figurative, but that doesn’t mean it’s untrue. Grace is God’s extravagant for scandalous sinners.

That is an insane amount of money. To settle our debt would far, far more than we can repay; but isn’t that the point. God’s grace on us, is a precious thing.

When he gets off his knees, we realize that he really hasn’t changed by grace. His heart is teflon, and the mercy the father gave him doesn’t stick. His heart hasn’t really grasped his lesson in forgiveness. God forgave, the servant didn’t understand. His treatment of another proclaims this.

The parable directly speaks of grace, and ungrace.

The $10,000 guy meets the $100 talent guy and we see our own inability to forgive. We shake down our brother and sister for just small things. Notice verse 28, the text tells us that he actually assaulted him, “he started to choke him.” How bizarre and how disturbing. And yet, God sees, and responds.

Was the $10,000 guy really forgiven? Did he understand the spiritual transaction of what just happened? I don’t think so—and it scares me.

The other servants have seen the issue.

The key word is “distressed,” or lypeō in Greek, the word means “to throw into sorrow, to grieve or offend., to make heavy.” All that the forgiven servant did, was recognizable by others, and they reported what they saw to the master.

His behavior is clearly meant to disturbs us.

He’s called “wicked” in verse 32. What he did was awful, and again he’s brought in. Because of his mistreatment of the other who owed, he was now thrown into prison, owing a billion bucks. He gets what he now deserves. He gets justice instead of mercy. He is turned over the torturers.

Matthew 6:15

What does all of this mean?

I’m pretty sure that God isn’t hammering us over our unforgiveness of others. I suspect it’s our sin that does that. When we consider our sin, how can we understand others who sin against us? We have been forgiven much (very much!) how can we not forgive others for sinning against us?

J. Meyer

alaskabibleteacher.com

Anavah, (or Humility)

       Charles Spurgeon

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
    my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
    too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
    like a weaned child with its mother;
    like a weaned child is my soul within me.

Psalm 131:1-2, ESV

To be humble [Hebrew, anavah] means that we recognize our boundaries. We will not advance by stepping beyond what God has ordained for us. We learn to be content with the present. Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less. It puts others first.

In Psalm 131 we begin the walk into “anavah.” We’re brought by God into a place where we understand who we really are. Our lives are not characterized by self-promotion, but rather serving God and advancing others before ourselves.

The image is one of being a weaned child resting on a mother’s chest. We have no agenda, there is nothing that we must do, but just relax on Him.

Seeing a weaned baby is one who no longer needs its mother’s milk. There’s no fussing or grasping for nourishment, rather he’s simply content to rest in his mother’s warm embrace.

To practice true humility, or the Hebrew word “anavah,” it is to renounce ambition in all its insidious forms. As Jesus’ disciples we follow Him with our cross. That cross puts the end of our old life. And we die daily. And it is obvious to all.

“And since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet.  I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you.”

John 13:14-16

Andrew Murray

alaskabibleteacher.com

Maximum Servanthood

“He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” Jesus answered him, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.”

John 13:6-8 (context vv. 3-17)

Chapter 13 always rocks my world. I visualize this, like a fly on-the-wall, watching it happen–and then I replay it over, and over in my mind. It always unravels me. Why does this have to happen? What does this passage tell me about Jesus, and his kingdom? (John 13).

Why can’t I just walk away from it, and leave it be?

Jesus made himself a slave, (or perhaps he was always a slave all along, and we just didn’t realize it?) Foot-washers were pretty much regarded as sub-human, mindless drones who mechanically performed a necessary duty. The lowest of the low, the very least of the least.

But Jesus took that role on himself, he laid aside his garments, and his Godhood. (They landed in a pile in the corner of the room). When he knelt down to scrub feet (making sure he got between the toes), it was deity serving man. This God/rabbi intentionally did this, not reluctantly or halfheartedly–but carefully.

He was their teacher.

Custom demanded he enjoy the prerogatives of that position. But he wouldn’t, and didn’t. He mustn’t. As I stress over this, I must conclude he really was their “teacher,” but not in the way I expect. What he was doing on his knees, was instructing them in the art of loving each other. He showed us a leader in action.

Real disciples function best when they wash between the toes.

There was a point in Jewish history when the people actually demanded that God would give them a king, instead of a judge (1 Samuel 8:5-9). God warned them that this wasn’t in his plans–but they insisted. They had to have one, everyone else did. We still must have celebrities, and then we wonder why they short circuit on us. Who can resist the privilege, and the limelight?

Peter of course was classic Peter.

It seems that whenever he resists, he gets rebuked. He makes it quite clear that Jesus will never wash feet–that Jesus will never use a basin or towel and serve him like this. It was outrageous. It didn’t fit in Peter’s personal theology. He had no room for Jesus the slave. Perhaps Peter knew that to follow meant he would have to do the same thing?

Jesus still washes feet.

He sits us down and takes off our shoes and socks, and scrubs us clean. And we hate it. But to be washed by him is a condition of our discipleship. Every follower must be clean, and he continues his work to this day. We sin daily, even as his own, and he cleans us up–and yet somehow that really bothers us.

“Does God ask us to do what is beneath us? This question will never trouble us again if we consider the Lord of heaven taking a towel and washing feet.

 Elisabeth Elliot

alaskabibleteacher.com