Gratefulness: A Parable

Last year, I wrote about the Parable of the Good Samaritan. I have always been fascinated by the parables told by Jesus Christ. (And others too: Jonah and Job are fascinating.) Stories are the most powerful way we humans learn and develop empathy - or hate as the case may be. The stories we tell say more about us than our official doctrines and philosophies. Christ’s stories weren’t merely memorable. They were revolutionary. And they got him killed. 

One of my big beefs with the white Evangelical tradition I was raised in is that the teachings and example of Christ seem to be largely irrelevant. Which is how, in recent years, Evangelicalism is characterized by a nasty combination of Pharisaical self-righteousness and legalism with the brutality and hate of Rome. In order to live with the cognitive dissonance this requires, Evangelicals have “spiritualized” everything Christ said and did, making it about their particular theological superstructure rather than the plain - and revolutionary - meaning of the teaching. 

In essence, faith is reduced to “believing the right things,” rather than, I don’t know, following Christ. In my exploration of this parable, I will look at the way its meaning has been neutered.

There are a number of names for this parable, but I think that “The Parable of the Ungrateful Servant” is the best. It captures what I believe is the point: it isn’t primarily that the servant is “unforgiving,” but rather that he responds to the overwhelming blessings he has received by seeking to deny them to others. Let’s dive in. 

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Matthew 18:21-35 (NRSV)

²¹ Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” ²² Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times. 

²³ “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. ²⁴ When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents^[c] was brought to him; ²⁵ and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. ²⁶ So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ ²⁷ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. ²⁸ But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ ²⁹ Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ ³⁰ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. ³¹ When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. ³² Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. ³³ Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ ³⁴ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. ³⁵ So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

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Here is the “traditional” Evangelical interpretation. Because we are all unacceptable to God because of sin, we owe a debt we can never repay. God forgave us (after a vicious human sacrifice, naturally). Because of this, we should forgive people who wrong us. 

As with the neutered interpretation of the Good Samaritan, this interpretation isn’t exactly wrong, but it is...carefully put in a box where it has little power. Or worse, where it is used as a weapon to harm and control people. 

In general, I have no problem with the idea of overlooking petty stuff, or emotionally releasing past wrongs. However, in Evangelical circles, this is often used to force victims of abuse to “forgive” and put themselves back in position to be abused. (I see this specifically in cases of domestic violence.) The use of “forgiveness” in this context is that of a weapon to keep people in their places, to keep the vicious in power, and so on. 

So, I don’t find that this interpretation is much help in reality. For those minor things that one should “forgive,” I find a better approach is just that of empathy and better communication. I haven’t had to learn to “forgive” my wife - I need to understand her point of view and find mutual solutions. On the other hand if (hypothetically), she were to intentionally set out to hurt me, a better approach would be to leave the situation. 

On the other hand, there IS an interpretation of this parable which I believe holds great power, and gets to the heart of what I believe Christ is saying here. 

One of the clues that this parable has a broader meaning is its exaggerated terms. Think about this: how much IS 10,000 talents? Well, a single talent represents about 15 years of wages for a typical worker. So, about 150,000 years worth of wages. Assuming a minimum wage of $10 an hour, that’s $20,800 a year. That’s $3.12 billion. (Side note: this alone explains why the existence of billionaires is a moral obscenity…) 

Now think about this: this guy’s a freaking slave. How could he possibly incur a debt that large? He couldn’t. Obviously. So the debt here isn’t just something he did on his own. I believe that is intentional - I believe Christ intends that this debt be something that the slave didn’t really intentionally incur through his own actions. 

Next, let’s look at the consequences. The slave is going to be sold to another master in order to pay the debt. He and his family. Who will probably be separated, potentially raped, tortured, and so on - that’s all on the table. 

So, the slave pleads. “I’ll repay you” is such utter bullshit that it is laughable. There is no possible way this could ever be repaid. This is a total hail mary. And it works.

The master chuckles and lets him off the hook. 

The next turn of events, though, is horrifying. 

Immediately, without missing a beat, the ungrateful servant goes out and finds another servant and demands immediate payment. And then throws him in jail! It is literally as if not one damn thing has sunk into his thick head. 

There is no gratefulness. There is no sense that he owes anybody anything - people owe HIM. 

Shit like this can’t stay hidden, though. The other servants (slaves) take note, and report this to the master. Who is not amused. 

“Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?”

Um, yes. Yes, you should. 

And this is where I think the idea that this is about “forgiveness” goes wrong. The point isn’t that the ungrateful servant had bad feelings toward his fellow slave. 

It is that he did bad things to him! 

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How does this parable speak to our own times? Let me offer my thoughts. 

Today is Thanksgiving here in America. A day when we give thanks, usually to the supreme being of our choice, but also to those humans who have benefited us. (At least, that’s how I was raised.) 

All across this nation, you will hear “thank you God for all the blessings.” I can guarantee that you will hear things like: “thank you for the freedom to worship,” and “thank you for the financial blessings we have enjoyed,” and “thank you for this feast.” 

These are good things to be grateful for! 

But let’s think about how many of these benefits are “earned.” Not one damn one. 

I was born in America, as a white male in a middle class family. I didn’t earn that. The fact that I have never truly faced hunger isn’t because I am a great person. It is because of when and where I was born. The fact that I don’t worry about drug cartels murdering my family after raping my wife and daughters isn’t because I did something great. It is because of when and where I was born. The fact that I can say what I believe on my own blog isn’t because I earned it - it is because of when and where I was born. 

These “blessings of god” - or “random chance” if you prefer - happened to me without my doing anything. I just was born in the right time and place. 

Let’s look a bit further back: WHY was a born in this time and place? Well, because my ancestors fled violence and poverty in the 1800s to seek refuge in America. The laws at that time allowed them to simply show up and come in. Why is my family middle class? Well, because of the Homestead Act, which established my ancestors as successful farmers; because of public schools, which made us a literate family; because of the color of our skin, which kept us from being kept out of white society, and also means that I don’t worry about my sons being murdered by the police. The list goes on and on.

And I didn’t earn one goddamn one of these benefits. 

Am I grateful? Heck yes! I have received benefits that I didn’t earn, and can never truly repay.

But here is the question: 

How should I express my gratefulness?

Do I give thanks to God? Sure. But that seems kind of, well, “spiritualized.” To reduce this to “God likes me” and say thanks doesn’t actually accomplish anything. 

And, more to the point, it sure looks like what the ungrateful servant did. 

Now, let’s think about this: 

Who are the other servants?

Again, look at that list of benefits I have received. Other people wouldn’t mind a chance at them too. Would-be immigrants and refugees from around the world would love to come here and experience freedom and safety - to escape violence and crushing poverty. Just. Like. My. Ancestors. Others in our own society would like to be free from racialized violence. 

What is my response to them?

Is it, like notorious sodomite James Dobson, to say “go back where you came from...oh, and God loves you.”? Is it, like so many white Evangelicals in my life, to cheer that Trump is “finally doing something about the Hispanic problem.”? Is it to demand that African American protestors be silenced - and to scream at them “bring it, you fucking animals!”? 

Is it to break apart their family, throw their children in cages? Is it to support the highest incarceration rate in the entire world? Is it to strip the disabled and the children of the working poor of their healthcare? 

Is that what gratefulness looks like? 

The master sure didn’t think so. And there were consequences for the ungrateful servant. 

Gratefulness should mean that we are so thrilled by the gifts we have received that we can’t wait to share them with others. 

Why is this so hard to grasp? 

***

Just like in the case of the Good Samaritan, this parable talks about the Kingdom of God. And eternity. You can see it right in the text - Christ says this is about the Kingdom of Heaven. Those of us who believe in an afterlife should pay close attention to it, because it says something about our destiny. 

If we want to be part of the Kingdom, we have to follow what Christ taught. 

The relevance of this parable has really struck me over the last few years, because I hear echoes of it on a nearly daily basis from the white Evangelicals in my life. 

Last year, I wrote about a specific incident in which a person of my acquaintance commented on one of my posts in support of deporting people who believed they were born in the US, but might have been born in Mexico - the midwife (maybe) lied on the birth certificate. 

The rhetoric was clear: someone broke the law, so draconian punishment is in order. 

In this case, because someone broke a racist immigration law, an innocent person should have their life destroyed. 

That’s just one example. I have heard over and over and over that we are justified in incarcerating men, women, and children, because they “broke our laws.” Meaning that they did what my ancestors (and those of most white Evangelicals too!) did. The only difference is the color of the skin and different laws - ones aimed at “keeping America white.” 

The parallel is so obvious:

Having experienced countless blessings they never earned, white Evangelicals seek to imprison and destroy those who seek the same blessings.

Take it away, Keith Green:

Do you see?

Do you see?

All the people sinking down?

Don't you care?

Don't you care?

Are you gonna let them drown?

How can you be so numb?!

Not to care if they come

You close your eyes,

And pretend the job is done

"Oh, bless me, lord!

Bless me, lord!"

You know, it's all I ever hear!

No one aches,

No one hurts,

No one even sheds one tear

But, he cries,

He weeps,

He bleeds,

And he cares for your needs

And you just lay back,

And keep soaking it in

Oh, can't you see such sin?!

'cause he brings people to your door,

And you turn them away

As you smile and say,

"god bless you!

Be at peace!"

And all heaven just weeps,

'cause Jesus came to your door,

You left him out on the streets

Open up! open up!

And give yourself away

You see the need,

You hear the cries,

So how can you delay?!

God is calling,

And you are the one

But like Jonah, you run

He told you to speak,

But you keep holding it in

Oh, can't you see such sin?!

The world is sleeping in the dark,

That the church just can't fight,

'cause it's asleep in the light!

How can you be so dead?!

When you've been so well famed

Jesus rose from the grave,

And you!

You can't even get out of bed!

Oh, Jesus rose from the dead!

Come on, get out of your bed!

How can you be so numb?!

Not to care if they come

You close your eyes,

And pretend the job is done! 

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So, when you sit down at the table with your family and friends, and carve that giant bird, don’t just say “thank you Lord!” 

Take a look around at your fellow humans, and be sure to extend the blessings you have received to them as well.