We Don't Know What We Owe

"Very well," the court clerk replied, "would you like to pay in denarii, knuts, sickles or galleons?"

I was at the local courthouse, and things weren't going smoothly.

The problem wasn't with the speeding ticket, which I did not contest. The problem was with the fine: 300 talents.

I told the clerk I didn't know what a talent is and certainly didn't have any. Her reply only made things worse. Four more currencies I didn't recognize.

It began to dawn upon me that I had no idea what I owed.

Yes, this scenario is fabricated, however all five currencies have meaning. Three are from Harry Potter. The average kid can line them up in order of value pretty easily.

Students of the Bible will recognize the other two and likewise be able to line them up in order of value.

But if you're a student of neither Harry Potter nor the Bible, all five currencies sound like something from Dr. Seuss.

So where am I going with this?

In church as we entered the season of Lent, the following parable was read aloud twice.

Luke 7:36-50
When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.
When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”
Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”
“Tell me, teacher,” he said.
“Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”
Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”
“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.
Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”
The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”
Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

It was on the second hearing that I began to listen.

(Sometimes repetition is not boring. Sometimes it wakes you up.)

I put myself into the story and tried to empathize with each player. What Jesus said was obviously true. The one forgiven much will love much.

All well and good, but my mind began to move once I admitted to myself that the one who "loves little" in this parable does so with good cause.

I still remember where I was standing fifteen years ago when a woman's voice over the phone forgave with one stroke a massive amount of school debt that I legally owed a former employer.

But I cannot say how often a store clerk has forgiven me a penny or two on some purchase. Nobody cares about pennies. I've forgotten before I get home.

It's hardly a crime that the one forgiven little "loves little."

So, Jesus, what do we do with this?

My mind wandered to St. Paul, a man responsible for the murder of innocent Christians. Forgiven much.

What about me? My thoughts drifted to The Parable of the Prodigal.

Luke 15:11-32
Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.
“Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.
“When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ So he got up and went to his father.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
“The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
“But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.
“Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
“The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
“‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

Jesus ends the parable with an unspoken question hanging in the air.

"And you?"

Jesus told the parable to "righteous" Pharisees. Men who, like their fellow Pharisee Simon, felt that it was beneath their dignity to hang out with "Sinners" (with a capital S).

In the Parable of the Prodigal, the younger brother is obviously not too wise, but he's been forgiven much. He may well love much. We don't know.

But Jesus ends the parable with the spotlight on the elder brother, so that's where our focus should be too. He's in a dangerous spot. Why?

He, like the Pharisees, has been comparing himself to his brother. As a result he thinks he's been well-nigh perfect. He's mistaken.

If I owe 50 dollars, I know what I owe. And it's a lot less than 500 dollars.

If I owe 50 talents, I'm not sure what I owe, but it's a lot less than 500 talents.

But if I owe [???] units of [???], how great is my debt?

Now I'm lost.

But that, my friends, is where we stand. We, along with the Pharisees and the elder brother, do not know what we owe.

God has not shown us the exact pricing for our various sins, many of which we fail to notice or remember. (Notice that the older brother claims to have never disobeyed his father. Really?)

And as for the currency, sin debts are paid by means of innocent blood. I don't have any of that. Do you?

So we face an unquantified debt denominated in a currency we don't possess. Friends, our position is tenuous. What shall we do?

Here's a bad idea. Do what the Pharisees did. Estimate by means of comparison! "Well, I haven't murdered. I haven't committed any felony offences like that fellow there... I guess I'm close to square?"

No. It's the other way around. When we compare ourselves to others, we only add to our sins.

Oops. So those who think themselves safest are perhaps in the greatest peril?

Perhaps? Perhaps?? Jesus repeatedly takes pains to state that this is in fact the case. The surcharge for smug self-righteousness is high. We don't know what we owe, but because of our judgmental attitude it's a lot more than we think.

Are we listening to Jesus? If we are, we will respond by loving much.

A great debt we cannot even measure nor rank has been paid on our behalf by the blood of an innocent man who owed us nothing — a man who, oh-by-the-way, hates ingratitude.

If we are not listening, what Jesus said to the Pharisees applies to us.

Matthew 21:31b
Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you.

I almost ended the blog with that verse, but we've seen it before. Repetition can lull. So let's restate it twice.

"It's better to know you owe a lot and be sorry than to think you owe very little and be smug."

"It's better to accept forgiveness for 500 terrible sins than to haughtily downplay 50 subtle sins. The surcharge for a haughty attitude in the courts of heaven is death."

[Reality check: My wife works as an interpreter in court. She occasionally comes home with a story about how a minor traffic violation turned into a trip to the clinker when the arrogant defendant hacked off the judge.]

Why is it we simply won't listen? We hear it, but we don't internalize it.

We are Pharisees.

Jesus keeps throwing it in our face, but we won't listen.

So Jesus repeats himself.

Over. And. Over. Again.

Luke 18:9-14
To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’
“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’
“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

This is the most repetitive blog I've ever written.

And that's saying something.

It's intentional.

I did a word count. Half of this blog is Jesus talking.

Anything Jesus feels it necessary to say many times?

Is something we need to hear many times.

The hope is that we start to listen.