The Debt

Shifting our focus requires that we begin to see our need for God. It also involves seeing God in a new light, the light of grace. That begins with truly seeing ourselves. That's not easy. You know how it is. We're often the last to figure things out. In fact you are probably saying, "This is not talking about me. I'm a good person." To protect our sense of self worth we justify ourselves, denying the evidence that something is missing. Like the drunk who's absolutely convinced that the next time he'll know when to quit. Then there are the aunt Marthas who devote endless hours to church work while in their hearts they are judgmental and proud. We don't get it. We're OK; it's the other guy who's got the problem.

Here I would like to point out a major difference between a lot of secular thinking and Christianity. The secular world often sees the basis for personal healing as affirmation, simply building up our sense of self worth. Sure, we all have scars from traumatic events and imperfect parents. However this fails to deal with the Biblical concept of repentance or, stated differently, ownership.

Repentance involves accepting responsibility for things we,ve done and wanting to change. Secular thought believes that we will move in the right direction simply because we feel better about ourselves. Sure, our shame and guilt need to be dealt with, however, there can be no freedom from these until there is ownership. How can I experience the cleansing of forgiveness if I haven't accepted that I have done anything wrong? How can I be free of shame unless I am forgiven of my shameful acts and choose to move in a different direction?

Sure some Christians take this sin and sinner thing to an inappropriate end. They want us to wallow in guilt and feel worthless. That is not the intent of repentance. However, the converse, simply trying to build people up without appropriate confrontation leads nowhere. We must own a wrong if we are to seek another way.

This brings up another issue. Rather than owning our need for forgiveness, secular society seeks to deny the existence a universal standard, thereby eliminating our responsibility and guilt. That is simply shooting ourselves in the foot. Justification is being forgiven, being made ok. We either have ours or God's. When we need and receive God's forgiveness, our hearts are changed. While we cling to our own, through denial and rationalization, affirmations are simply applied to our pride, the false self we build to make us feel worthwhile.

Grace can only meet us when we take ownership. We have all made harmful choices. No one forced us to. If we are over twelve, we must take responsibility for much of what we are. We must give up on self-justification.

Jesus dealt with this self-righteousness on numerous occasions. With Nicodemus, He did not ply him with adulation for his goodness. Instead Jesus hit him squarely between the eyes with the clear implication that he needed to be converted. With the rich young ruler, who came to Jesus to see if there was anything lacking in his goodness, Jesus exposed his love of money. With the Woman at the Well, Jesus brought out the fact that she had been living a very immoral life.

However, Jesus' attitude was never judgmental. We see this in the story of the Woman caught in adultery. On being asked to pronounce judgment upon her, He wrote on the ground, turning the condemnation of her hypocritical accusers back on themselves. He then turned to her with acceptance and compassion saying, "neither do I condemn you." Grace meets us without judgment alowing us to take ownershiip for our stuff. This allows for an honest self-condemnation as we respond to God's mercy and forgiveness. All Jesus wants is for us to get real. Our lives are not as we want to see them. We have all screwed up. None of us are what we should be. We need to own that.

To deal with our tendency to justify ourselves the Bible gets tricky. It throws us a curve. Not to strike us out, but to help us get the point - to bring us insight. Many think the Bible is heavy-handed moralism; simply telling us what we should do. There's truth to that. On the surface, the Bible does lay down the law, or at least that's where it starts.

Look at the old covenant. On Mount Sinai (Ex 19) God presented the contract regarding obedience to His law. He put on quite a show, a sort of celestial Wizard of Oz. He scared the people to death and then told them what they should do. God gave man the 10 commandments in a frightening demonstration of His power and authority. This was further backed by rewards for obedience and punishments for disobedience (Lev 26). [The moral law must be distinguished from the Law of Moses, Israel's civil law, which no longer has authority in our lives (Col 2:14).]

Law is what we should do. It is, oddly, the starting point. Oddly because most of us would say that love should be the starting point. Here's the curve. The apostle Paul in Galatians said, "For through the law I died to the law that I might live to God". The law is actually used as a tool for insight, moving us from self-justification and legalism to a different relationship with God.

The old covenant is a legal way of relating to our behavior. Its purpose was to impress us with Gods power, holiness, and authority, thus giving authority to His moral law. This empowers our conscience, establishing a sense of moral responsibility. That moral responsibility then works to restrain our egocentric, selfishness behavior (I Tim 1:9).

How does the law then, bring insight? Trying to obey the law can underscore the fact that something is missing. Separated from an appropriate relationship to God's love, we can never truly obey (Rm 8:7,8). Only love inspires love. Until we reconnect with God, trusting in His love and care, our efforts to do right will only result in some distortion or failure.

Paul likened this use of law, bringing us to a sense of need, to a pedagogue (Gal 3:24). Though we often think of this term being associated with a teacher or tutor, in Roman times a pedagogue was often a slave who provided supervision and protection. The pedagogue made sure the child behaved his or herself. However, they also took the child in their care to the real teacher and made sure that the student learned their lessons. So the law is meant to supervise or restrain our selfish behavior, but like the Roman pedagogue, it can also take us to the real teacher. In pointing out what we should do, it can bring insight into the fact that our ego-centric nature is at cross-purposes with real goodness (as defined by the law). This, the law can't fix. Simply learning what we should do and trying to do it doesn't work. A performance focus only results in uptight and moralistic behavior, for the law can't fix our neediness and separation from God. It can't make us loving. We need a real teacher - JESUS.

We resist insight into our brokenness. It's that self-justification thing again. We protect our sense of self-worth at any cost. So God raises the bar of goodness to penetrate our self-deception. Jesus did this in the "Sermon on the Mount" (Matt 5). He enlarged on the commandments. Adultery was expanded to include lustful thoughts; and murder, to embrace inappropriate anger toward others. Jesus also added that we should love our enemies and do good to those who abuse us - a pretty tall order. So tall in fact, most of us will admit we don't have that kind of goodness.

Yet, unless we try to live up to a significant standard, we fail to see our need. Like the Aunt Marthas, we simply find satisfaction in following the rules, proud of our goodness. There is also the option to simply live an "average" life, untroubled by our mediocrity. Rather than being humbled by a higher standard, we're complacent, measuring ourselves by the standards, or lack thereof, of those around us.

For those who aim higher, there is the potential for insight. Their frustrated efforts can impress them with the limitations of simply trying to change (Rm 7). Young Ben Franklin found this out when he tried to implement his 13 cardinal virtues. His attempts ended in failure. He found that you can't simply do right by trying. You must first fix what's broken.

Why the charade? Why ask us to do things we can't? If we are given something we don't need, we won't appreciate it. It will have little impact on us. But if we're given something we need, it's different. Being told something doesn't have the impact that experiencing it does. When we're confronted by our failure, we're convicted. Mercy and forgiveness now have a point. Grace, God's redemptive mercy and love, must supply a felt need or it fails to elicit a response of gratitude and love. It must touch our hearts to really heal.

There's a story in the Bible where we see these principles in action (Lk 7:36-50). There was a Pharisee named Simon whom Jesus had healed of leprosy. Simon gave a party in Jesus honor. However, he failed to offer "certain social customs," like washing Jesus' feet and anointing His head. Simon was looking out for his social standing. He was concerned about how all this would look to the Pharisees.

At the same party there was this prostitute whose life had been changed by Jesus' mercy and love. In contrast to Simon, she came into the room and poured expensive perfume on Jesus' feet and wiped them with her hair. It was an act of loving gratitude. She didn't care if many there, one of whom was Simon, looked on her with contempt. She had one goal, to show Jesus her appreciation.

So Jesus told Simon a story. "Two men 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 canceled the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?" Simon answered with the obvious response, the one with the bigger debt.

"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 [and you can tell] for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.'"

Two debtors - one whose heart was touched, showed her appreciation; the other was simply paying Jesus back. One of them got it, seeing their need for grace; the other was too proud.

This is the principle of the debt. An expanded law, the standard of goodness, shows us just how far we are from paying our debt. This creates the basis for a response of gratitude and love when another pays it for us. Grace must reference from a standard defining our failure if its mercy is to have any meaning to us. Grace then, gives what the law demands by inspiring in us a response of love that fills our hearts and overflows to others. It is grace that changes our lives.

There's another story that illustrates what happens when we fail to see the magnitude of our debt (Matt 18:23-35). "Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants." One owed him ten thousand talents, an unimaginable sum. On being confronted with his debt the servant pleaded, " 'be patient with me . . . I will pay back everything.' " The king, being merciful, forgave him his debt. The debtor then found a fellow servant who owed him a small sum and had him thrown into prison until he could pay what he owed. This seems to be a strange reaction - or was it?

This is more correctly the parable of the blind servant, for his statement that he would pay what he owed clearly showed that he had no conception of his debt. Consequently, he could never truly receive grace, for we must OWN something of the magnitude of our debt before being released from it can have any impact. The clueless servant, therefore, remained selfish, judgmental, and proud. Even though he had been graciously forgiven, it was natural for him to demand payment of the paltry debt owed him. The reality of grace had never touched his heart.

Even though we have tasted grace at conversion, our tendency toward self-justification - payback - can easily slip into the drivers seat. It's so easy to slide back into trying to please God by measuring up or see God as always looking over our shoulder. We then find it hard to give mercy for we aren't really experiencing it ourselves.

And no, this isn't simply a Christian problem, nor does it only apply to moral issues. How many feel the pressure to measure up to the standards of their peers - dressing the right way, having the right car, doing the right things, and hanging with the right people. Unconditional acceptance is rare. Performing to measure up, the rule.

Here's one more story. Peter was a "can do" guy. He was proud of that. It was critical that Peter see his need. At the Last Supper Jesus told Peter that before the rooster crowed, he would deny Him three times. "Never!" thought Peter. When the prediction became reality, Peter finally understood. However, it wasn't Peter's sense of failure that changed him; it was Jesus' mercy and compassion in the context of his failure. As the rooster crowed, Peter's eyes met Jesus', expecting some form of censure. Although cruelly beaten, Jesus had only a look of love. It broke Peter's heart. Jesus' grace stood in marked contrast to Peter's expectation of judgment and his own self-condemnation.

Grace allows us to OWN our flaws without the fear of judgment. The law, love and the truth associated with it, must stand as a witness to what's right. Then, in the light of grace, it is we ourselves who condemn our actions. We must take ownership of our faults - repentance. Without that, grace is simply an empty gesture. Then, with hearts broken as we see the contrast between ourselves and real love, we turn to God. Grace wins our hearts by creating an atmosphere of acceptance and mercy that stands in marked contrast to our self-condemnation. However, if we see ourselves with few flaws - we are untouched.

There are many ways we skirt our responsibility to the pedagogue. We deny it, we rationalize away our responsibility, we say it can't be obeyed, or we rebel against it. In all this we simply shoot the messenger. We destroy the tool for insight into our need for grace.

Establishing the authority of the law empowers the conscience to restrain our behavior. As those principles are expanded, it can also point out our lack of real love. Failing then, to meet that standard brings us insight into our debt. No debt, no need. No debt, no response of gratitude and love when it's paid. Grace isn't simply a legal transaction. It must touch our hearts or it cannot heal.

Copyright 8/04, Patrick Fagenstrom - edited 4/10

Home