Settling Accounts

Matthew 18:21-35

September 17, 2017

            In the opening of the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie: The Curse of the Black Pearl – which is also the best Pirates of the Caribbean movie – Elizabeth Swann, the lead female role stands in a tightly corseted, fashion forward dress. Then and now, fashion forward means that she is uncomfortable and can’t breathe. She is so uncomfortable and so unable to breathe that she faints and falls off the side of this large tower of the fort she’s standing on into the sea below. Captain Jack Sparrow – who is the lead role, the lead pirate and the lead everything in the movie – is being questioned by two soldiers as to his purpose for being at the fort, and he and the soldiers see her fall. He asks the soldiers if they are going to save the young lady. Neither of the royal navy’s finest can swim but the pirate can, so he dives in after her, gets her out of the fashion forward dress which is weighing her down, and her pulls her back to land. Once they are both out of the water and she is breathing and standing again, the two are surrounded. Elizabeth is quickly pulled into the arms of her father, the governor, and Captain Jack Sparrow is held at gunpoint by a dozen soldiers for the crime of being a pirate.

            Elizabeth speaks up for him because he just saved her life. But his rescue of her will not be enough to keep him from the gallows. A pirate is a pirate. They put his hands in manacles, which seem to be an early form of handcuffs. Just when you think this is it, Jack throws the chain of the manacles around Elizabeth’s neck and pulls her toward him. He demands his effects which includes his belt, his compass, his gun, and his hat. He has Elizabeth tie his belt on him, and when she calls him ‘despicable,” he says,

“Sticks and stones, love. I saved your life. You saved mine. We’re square.”

Then he leaves them with the memorable words that this was the day they almost captured Captain Jack Sparrow and he escapes, at least for a little while, in the most epic movie way possible.

Great movie. Great dialogue. And it would seem a great example of accounts settled. That’s how we like things to be in life – perhaps not pirates and dramatic rescues from the sea – but square, accounts settled. I do for you. You do for me. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. That would seem to be true even when it comes to forgiveness. There needs to be a number attached to it, a limit, or a set amount. Perhaps this is what lies at the bottom of Peter’s question to Jesus in our passage from Matthew’s gospel.

“Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but I tell you, seventy-seven times.”

This follows our passage from last week when Jesus laid out a way for dealing with conflict in the church, and he knew there would be conflict.

“If another member of the church sins against you…”

Maybe Peter wanted to take it a step further. Okay, you’ve told us what to do if someone sins against us. We confront that person directly just the two of us. If that doesn’t work, then we bring a couple of other folks in as witnesses. If that still doesn’t work, then we bring it before the church, and if that doesn’t work, then we treat that person like a tax collector or a gentile. But what about forgiving that person? How many times do I have to forgive that member who sins against me?

According to the Law, the number of times forgiveness was to be issued was three. So Peter doubled it and added one. By any account, he was being generous. But Jesus went even further. Translations differ as to what Jesus told him. Our version says, “seventy-seven times.” Other versions say, “seventy times seven.” 70 x 7 = 490. Either way you translate it, that’s a lot of forgiveness.

But I’m not sure Jesus was actually trying to get Peter and the other disciples to think in real numbers. I think this was a case of hyperbolic speech. How many times should you forgive? A large number, maybe even an incalculable number. Forget about the number, just forgive and forgive and forgive.

To further his point about forgiveness, Jesus told a parable about a king and his slaves. The kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his slaves. He went to one slave who owed him ten thousand talents. The slave could not pay, so the king ordered that the slave, his wife, his children and all his possessions should be sold. The slave fell on his knees and begged for mercy.

“Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.”

The king took pity on the slave and released him of the debt. But after having been the recipient of such generous mercy and grace, that same slave went out and encountered another slave who owed the first one a hundred denarii. The first slave seized the second one by the throat and demanded payment. This fellow slave also fell down on his knees and begged for mercy and patience. But the first slave refused it, and had the second slave thrown into prison. The other slaves saw this and were upset by it, so they went and told the king. The king called the first slave in and said,

“You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?”

Then the king was so angry that he handed the slave over to be tortured until he paid off his debt. Jesus ended this parable with the warning,

“So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

Well that’s enough to stop you cold. If this parable is a true allegory, then God is the king, we are the slaves. God demands our debts be paid, but if we beg for mercy, God forgives us. But if we turn around and don’t forgive others, then we are tortured. If we look at this parable through the eyes of strict settling of accounts, then God demands payment. We plead for mercy. God relents. We demand it of others, they plead for mercy. We refuse. We get our just desserts. If one good turn deserves another, then one bad turn deserves another as well. God as the king says, “We’re square.”

Or is Jesus telling them something else all together? I think it goes back to the number he gave Peter. How many times do you forgive someone? Over and over and over again. Forgiveness is not about settling accounts. Forgiveness is a part of you. Forgiveness is recognizing that we have been given incalculable grace, and that we are changed by it. That is something the first slave did not understand.

I realize that this does not address the question of forgiving that which is unforgivable. Too often victims of heinous crimes are told to forgive in lieu of justice being done. Forgiveness is used as justification for abusers to continue their abuse. Last week we remembered the 16^th anniversary of September 11^th. Can those who lost loved ones on that day sixteen years ago be expected to truly forgive the ones who instigated the attacks, who flew the airplanes into buildings? How do we forgive the unforgivable? Yet, I still believe that the call to forgive and forgive again is there – for all of us.

The late Nelson Mandela told the story of leaving prison after years and years. He was imprisoned for his speaking out and his activism against apartheid in South Africa. If I had been imprisoned all those years, I think I might have left bitter and angry. But when Nelson Mandela left prison, he was a changed, transformed man. He left prison a man committed to peace and reconciliation. He was not a perfect man, but he was a changed man. He said that he knew if he could not forgive what had happened to him, what had been done to him, than he would never truly be free.

It seems to me that he did not forgive those who imprisoned him for their sake as much as he did for his sake. To not forgive would have kept him in another kind of prison. Forgiveness is about settling accounts, but not in the way the world understands that; in the way God does. How does God settle accounts? Through grace, through mercy, through love. Again and again and again. May we do the same.

Let all of God’s forgiven children say, “Alleluia!” Amen.