[Today’s parable is] aimed straight at us. We are the official found out in our dishonesty and lack of attention to the king’s work. We squander what is not ours on our way of life. And, of course, whenever we find ourselves in a predicament we plead for mercy and forgiveness, and God always does forgive us. But we are expected to learn from our experience with God; as we have been forgiven we are to forgive—wholeheartedly, repeatedly, especially when what is owed to us by others is a mere pittance in comparison to what we owe God. And if we don’t offer that forgiveness in equal measure, then we will know the justice of God.
This parable reveals the mystery of our Father, who is both incredibly merciful and at the same time just. What tips the scales is our behavior toward one another. We call down God’s justice upon ourselves by our stubborn refusal to share God’s goodness with others. We are either humble or proud, forgiving or arrogant. There is no middle ground.
Perhaps the most telling part of the story is that our individual behavior either badly shakes up our community or gives it cause to rejoice. We are all forgiven, given back a life in baptism by the mercy and pity of God, and we must hold one another accountable for that gift of forgiveness and salvation. We come before God asking forgiveness whenever we pray Jesus’ prayer, the Our Father, and we are thus put in the position of the official who has his entire debt written off. We pray, “Forgive us our debt as we forgive those who are in debt to us.”
. . . What would this Lent be if we, in gratitude for God’s forgiveness of us, forgave those who were in debt to us? Would we learn generosity toward those held in bondage by the world’s harsh demands and our own insensitivity? What will transpire by Easter day in our hearts and communities?

Megan McKenna

Megan McKenna is an author, theologian, storyteller, and lecturer. She has taught at a number of schools, including Fordham University and the Washington Theological Union.