In a similar way we are struck by the illogical position of the unmerciful servant in this parable. Wouldn’t logic tell him to treat his friend with the same degree of mercy that he received himself?
The problem was that
self-righteousness and sin kept him from thinking clearly. It prevented him from accepting the
principle of mercy that the king showed. Harsh judgment still ruled him, and he showed no mercy—not even to someone who owed him very little.
Perhaps the unmerciful servant felt that he deserved to have his debt forgiven. Possibly, he reasoned that the king’s decision was based on his talents, abilities, and future efforts rather than on pure mercy. And since the king had released him from such a huge debt, surely he was now counting on him for great things.
It was only right that a mere fellow-servant respect him as well. And so, ironically, this servant was judged on his merits—and found pitifully wanting.
When we assume that God’s mercy revolves around us instead of God,
we are being just as illogical as that small child or the unmerciful servant. It’s as if we have a tug-of-war inside us:
We think we deserve forgiveness for ourselves, but we are unwilling to extend that same forgiveness to other people.
*** But God loves us all with an equal passion***, and so he can forgive us all with an equally passionate mercy.
He is not concerned about himself as we are; he is only concerned about his beloved children. So today, try to let the principle of love and mercy override the principle of legal judgment.
To the best of your ability,
try to practice the radical forgiveness that Jesus has for you
—a forgiveness that heals,
builds up,
and restores.
