SECTION III. FORGIVING INJURIES
Matt. xviii. 21-35.
A lesson on forgiveness fitly ended the solemn
discourse on humility delivered in the hearing of disputatious disciples. The
connection of thought between beginning and end is very real, though it does
not quite lie on the surface. A vindictive temper, which is the thing here
condemned, is one of the vices fostered by an ambitious spirit. An ambitious
man is sure to be the receiver of many offences, real or imaginary. He is quick
to take offence, and slow to forgive or forget wrong. Forgiving injuries is not
in his way: he is more in his element when he lays hold of his debtor by the
throat, and with ruffian fierceness demands payment.
The concluding part of the discourse was
occasioned by a question put by Peter, the usual spokesman of the twelve, who
came to Jesus and said: "Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I
forgive him? till seven times?" By what precise association of ideas the
question was suggested to Peter's mind we know not; perhaps he did not know
himself, for the movements of the mind are often mysterious, and in impulsive
mercurial natures they are also apt to be sudden. Thoughts shoot into
consciousness like meteors into the upper atmosphere; and suddenly conceived,
are as abruptly uttered, with physical gestures accompanying, indicating the
force with which they have taken possession of the soul. Suffice it to say,
that the disciple's query, however suggested, was relevant to the subject in
hand, and had latent spiritual affinities with all that Jesus had said
concerning humility and the giving and receiving of offences. It showed on
Peter's part an intelligent attention to the words of his Master, and a
conscientious solicitude to conform his conduct to those heavenly precepts by
which he felt for the moment subdued and softened.
The question put by Peter further revealed a
curious mixture of childlikeness and childishness. To be so earnest about the
duty of forgiving, and even to think of practicing the duty so often as seven
times towards the same offender, betrayed the true child of the kingdom; for
none but the graciously-minded are exercised in that fashion. But to imagine
that pardon repeated just so many times would exhaust obligation and amount to
something magnanimous and divine, was very simple. Poor Peter, in his ingenuous
attempt at the magnanimous, was like a child standing on tiptoe to make himself
as tall as his father, or climbing to the top of a hillock to get near the
skies.
The reply of Jesus to His honest but crude
disciple was admirably adapted to put him out of conceit with himself, and to
make him feel how puny and petty were the dimensions of his charity. Echoing
the thought of the prophetic oracle, it tells those who would be like God that
they must multiply pardons:[14.17] "I say not unto thee, Until seven times;
but, Until seventy times seven." Alas for the rarity of such charity under the
sun! Christ's thoughts are not man's thoughts, neither are His ways common
among men. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are His thoughts and
ways higher than those current in this world. For many, far from forgiving
times without number a brother confessing his fault, do not forgive even so
much as once, but act so that we can recognize their portrait drawn to the life
in the parable of the unmerciful servant.
In this parable, whose minutes details are
fraught with instruction, three things are specially noteworthy: the contrast
between the two debts; the corresponding contrast between the two creditors;
and the doom pronounced on those who, being forgiven the large debt owed by
them, refuse to forgive the small debt owed to them.
The two debts are respectively ten thousand
talents and a hundred denarii, being to each other in the proportion of, say, a
million to one. The enormous disparity is intended to represent the difference
between the shortcomings of all men towards God, and those with which any man
can charge a fellow-creature. The representation is confessed to be just by all
who know human nature and their own hearts; and the consciousness of its truth
helps them greatly to be gentle and forbearing towards offenders. Yet the
parable seems to be faulty in this, that it makes the unmerciful servant
answerable for such a debt as it seems impossible for any man to run up. Who
ever heard of a private debt amounting in British money to millions sterling?
The difficulty is met by the suggestion that the debtor is a person of high
rank, like one of the princes whom Darius set over the kingdom of Persia, or a
provincial governor of the Roman Empire. Such an official might very soon make
himself liable for the huge sum here specified, simply by retaining for his own
benefit the revenues of his province as they passed through his hands, instead
of remitting them to the royal treasury.
That it was some such unscrupulous minister of
state, guilty of the crime of embezzlement, whom Jesus had in His eye, appears
all but certain when we recollect what gave rise to the discourse of which this
parable forms the conclusion. The disciples had disputed among themselves who
should be greatest in the kingdom, each one being ambitious to obtain the place
of distinction for himself. Here, accordingly, their Master holds up to their
view the conduct of a great one, concerned not about the faithful discharge of
his duty, but about his own aggrandizement. "Behold," He says to them in
effect, "what men who wish to be great ones do! They rob their king of his
revenue, and abuse the opportunities afforded by their position to enrich
themselves; and while scandalously negligent of their own obligations, they are
characteristically exacting towards any little one who may happen in the most
innocent way, not by fraud, but by misfortune, to have become their debtor."
Thus understood, the parable faithfully
represents the guilt and criminality of those at least who are animated by the
spirit of pride, and deliberately make self-advancement their chief end: a
class by no means small in number. Such men are great sinners, whoever may be
little ones. They not merely come short of the glory of God, the true chief end
of man, but they deliberately rob the Supreme of His due, calling in question
His sovereignty, denying their accountability to Him for their actions, and by
the spirit which animates them, saying every moment of their lives, "Who is
Lord over us?" It is impossible to over-estimate the magnitude of their
guilt.
The contrast between the two creditors is not
less striking than that between the two debts. The king forgives the enormous
debt of his unprincipled sat rap on receiving a simple promise to pay; the
forgiven sat rap relentlessly exacts the petty debt of some three pounds
sterling from the poor hapless underling who owes it, stopping his ear to the
identical petition for delay which he had himself successfully presented to his
sovereign lord. Here also the coloring of the parable appears too strong. The
great creditor seems lenient to excess: for surely such a crime as the sat rap
had been guilty of ought not to go unpunished; and surely it had been wise to
attach little weight to a promise of future payment made by a man who, with
unbounded extravagance, had already squandered such a prodigious sum, so that
he had nothing to pay! Then this great debtor, in his character as small
creditor, seems incredibly inhuman; for even the meanest, most greedy, and
grasping churl, not to speak of so great a gentleman, might well be ashamed to
show such eagerness about so trifling a sum as to seize the poor wight who owed
it by the throat and drag him to prison, to lie there till he paid it.
The representation is doubtless extreme, and yet
in both parts it is in accordance with truth. God does deal with His debtors as
the king dealt with the sat rap. He is slow to anger, and of great kindness,
and repenteth Him of the evil He hath threatened. He giveth men space to
repent, and by providential delays accepts promises of amendment, though He
knoweth full well that they will be broken, and that those who made them will
go on sinning as before. So He dealt with Pharaoh, with Israel, with Nineveh;
so He deals with all whom He calls to account by remorse of conscience, by a
visitation of sickness, or by the apprehension of death, when, on their
exclaiming, in a passing penitential mood, "Lord, have patience with me, and I
will pay Thee all," He grants their petition, knowing that when the danger or
the fit of repentance is over, the promise of amendment will be utterly
forgotten. Truly was it written of old: "He hath not dealt with us after our
sins, nor rewarded us according to our iniquities."
Nor is the part played by the unmerciful servant,
however infamous and inhuman, altogether unexampled; although its comparative
rarity is implied in that part of the parabolic story which represents the
fellow-servants of the relentless one as shocked and grieved at his conduct,
and as reporting it to the common master. It would not be impossible to find
originals of the dark picture, even among professors of the Christian religion,
who believe in the forgiveness of sins through the blood of Jesus, and hope to
experience all the benefits of divine mercy for His sake. It is, indeed,
precisely by such persons that the crime of unmercifulness is, in the parable,
supposed to be committed. The exacting creditor meets his debtor just as he
himself comes out from the presence of the king after craving and receiving
remission of his own debt. This feature in the story at once adapts its lesson
specially to believers in the gospel, and points out the enormity of their
guilt. All such, if not really forgiven, do at least consciously live under a
reign of grace, in which God is assuming the attitude of one who desires all to
be reconciled unto Himself, and for that end proclaims a gratuitous pardon to
all who will receive it. In men so situated the spirit of unmercifulness is
peculiarly offensive. Shameful in a pagan,--for the light of nature teacheth
the duty of being merciful,--such inhuman rigor as is here portrayed in a
Christian is utterly abominable. Think of it! he goes out from the presence of
the King of grace; rises up from the perusal of the blessed gospel, which tells
of One who received publicans and sinners, even the chief; walks forth from the
house of prayer where the precious evangel is proclaimed, yea, from the
communion table, which commemorates the love that moved the Son of God to pay
the debt of sinners; and he meets a fellow-mortal who has done him some petty
wrong, and seizes him by the throat, and truculently demands reparation on pain
of imprisonment or something worse if it be not forthcoming May not the most
gracious Lord righteously say to such an one: "O thou wicked servant! I forgave
thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me; shouldest thou not also have had
compassion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on thee?" What can the
miscreant who showed no mercy expect, but to receive judgment without mercy,
and to be delivered over to the tormentors, to be kept in durance and put to
the rack, without hope of release, till he shall have paid his debt to the
uttermost farthing?
This very doom Jesus, in the closing sentences of
His discourse, solemnly assured His disciples awaited all who cherish an
unforgiving temper, even if they themselves should be the guilty parties. "So
likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you if ye from your hearts
forgive not every one his brother."[14.18] Stern words these, which lay down a
rule of universal application, not relaxable in the case of favored parties.
Were partiality admissible at all, such as the twelve would surely get the
benefit of it; but as if to intimate that in this matter there is no respect of
persons, the law is enunciated with direct, emphatic reference to them. And
harsh as the law might seem, Jesus is careful to indicate His cordial approval
of its being enforced with Rhadamanthine rigor. For that purpose He calls God
the Judge by the endearing name "My heavenly Father;" as if to say: "The great
God and King does not seem to me unduly stern in decreeing such penalties
against the unforgiving. I, the merciful, tender-hearted Son of man, thoroughly
sympathize with such judicial severity. I should solemnly say Amen to that doom
pronounced even against you if you behaved so as to deserve it. Think not that
because ye are my chosen companions, therefore violations of the law of love by
you will be winked at. On the contrary, just because ye are great ones in the
kingdom, so far as privilege goes, will compliance with its fundamental laws be
especially expected of you, and non-compliance most severely punished. To whom
much is given, of him shall much be required. See, then, that ye forgive every
one his brother their trespasses, and that ye do so really, not in pretense,
even from your very hearts." By such severe plainness of speech did Jesus
educate His disciples for being truly great ones in His kingdom: great not in
pride, pretension, and presumption, but in loyal obedience to the behests of
their King, and particular]y to this law of forgiveness, on which He insisted
in His teaching so earnestly and so frequently.[14.19] And we cannot but remark
here, at the close of our exposition of the discourse on humility, that if the
apostles in after days did not rise superior to petty passions, it was not the
fault of their Master in neglecting their training. "With holy
earnestness,"--to quote the language of a German scholar,--" springing equally
out of solicitude for the new community, zeal for the cause of God and of men;
nay, for the essential truths of the new religion of divine grace and of the
brotherhood of mankind, Jesus sought to ward off the dark shadow of petty,
ungodly feelings which He saw creeping stealthily into the circle of His
disciples, and of whose still more extensive and mischievous influence, after
His departure, He could not but be apprehensive."[14.20] We cannot believe that
all this earnestness had been manifested in vain; that the disciples did not at
length get the salt thoroughly into them.[14.21]