Matthew 18:23–28

The parable of the Two Servants (Matt. 18:23-35) puts on full display one of the ugliest features of fallen human nature: no feeling for the grace of God. It happened like this. Peter had just asked the Lord if seven times would be enough to forgive a brother who kept sinning against him. The startling reply came: "Until seventy times seven." The Lord added this parable at once. In it the immense grace of God and the evil of man that nothing can cure stand out clearly.

The comparison the Lord draws here must be a comparison of the kingdom of heaven. It is not, after all, a picture of the perfect grace we know in God, though the illustration comes as close to that as it can... But the Lord will not picture one of His own people in the portrait He gives of this unmerciful servant. He carries the responsibility that comes with such a claim, but he has no real grasp of divine grace, as his conduct shows... The kingdom, as we see in the parables, includes the true and the false. In it every blessing is governmental and conditional.

It is a comparison of the kingdom of heaven, and refers to a state of things set up here on earth by God's will. While we may, and must, take the principle to ourselves, much more is taught than this. Taken in the broad sense, the servant who owes the ten thousand talents represents the Jew, specially favoured by God, who had still run up an enormous debt he could never pay. They completed this debt by the death of their Messiah. Then a message of forgiveness came to them — "Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out."

We must read this parable morally too. Seen that way, it speaks loudly to us all. Every person has defaulted on what he owes God. Perfect obedience and love is His due from us, but who among us has ever given it? Yet the heart of God yearns over all His bankrupt debtors. On the basis of the atoning blood of Jesus, He proclaims full pardon to everyone... But conduct alone proves whether or not the grace of God has really reached the soul. Where it has, the forgiven one gratefully walks in the spirit of grace towards all.

The servant was not unrighteous in demanding what was due to him, but he was ungracious. He was totally unlike his master. His master had forgiven him ten thousand talents. Yet he could seize his fellow servant by the throat over a small hundred pence. What was the consequence? His master handed him over to the tormentors. He lost the happy sense of grace... And notice further: his master called him "a wicked servant" not for owing "ten thousand talents," but for refusing to forgive the "hundred pence."

It refers to God's governmental dealings with those who take the place of being His servants. Verse 35 makes this plain... Eternal forgiveness rests on an entirely different basis. But governmental forgiveness very often hinges on the believer showing a forgiving spirit... And if any of us see one brother ill-treating another, we shall be wise not to take the law into our own hands and attack the wrongdoer. Better to imitate the servants of the parable and tell our Lord all that was done.

But one debtor is specified, and his debt is enormous. Even if it were silver, Haman offered no more in exchange for destroying the entire Jewish people. The sinner before God is not less guilty. No wonder he "was brought to him": he would never have come of himself. Everything depends on whether one's submission to God's righteousness is real. If a person is not born of God, that submission is only on the surface.

If the talent was silver and Roman, it would be about £2,000,000; if Jewish, £4,000,000; if gold, between £7,000,000 and £8,000,000. "And since he could not pay" — no power to put himself right after having run up that frightful debt.

The kingdom of heaven is compared here to a human king, which prepares us for certain points in it that we must not attribute to God. The king here will have a reckoning with his servants. As soon as he begins, a man with an overwhelming debt is brought to him. Such a debt in itself surely argues something more than any misfortune can account for... yet there is this truth in it, that the sinner against God, as far as he can do it, wrecks not only himself but everyone connected with him. No man can be his own enemy only, as people sometimes claim.

We are all in debt to the supreme King, and just as helpless. It is good that there is mercy with Him that no figures can measure. The debtor falls at his lord's feet with an impossible plea for mercy in his own case — how impossible in ours! "I will pay you everything." The king can accept no such agreement and takes no notice of it. But his heart is moved with compassion, and acting on that, "he released him and forgave him the debt."

Taken more broadly, the servant who owes the ten thousand talents represents the Jewish people. God had given them special favour, yet they had run up an enormous debt they could never pay. When they had completed this debt by the death of their Messiah, God sent them a message of forgiveness.

The king's servant who owed ten thousand talents is typical of every one of us by nature and by practice, for our debt of sin has been far beyond our ability to pay. Righteousness demands satisfaction. The man faces the tragedy of losing everything — his wife, his children and his own freedom.

Grace without limit is what He meant. This follows the pattern of the boundless grace of God as shown to us in the gospel... A man may receive a full pardon for all his offences from the very God he has sinned against, through the atoning sacrifice of Calvary. And then he may refuse to show mercy to someone who has wronged him! A beggar with God, and a tyrant with men! What an appalling inconsistency.

The king settles accounts with his servants. He finds one owing the impossible sum of ten thousand talents. One talent is worth nearly two hundred pounds. And he had nothing to pay. Exactly my condition! And the condemnation is just: let him be sold as a slave, along with everything he had. Even then it would hardly make a first payment on the debt.

Under the ancient law, debts had to be paid. If the debtor had no means to pay them, he himself was sold. The law of God did not allow the principle that because a man is unable to pay his debts he may therefore go free. Neither does the gospel permit an excuse on the ground of inability. Divine justice has no bankruptcy court where a man can settle his sins. God will never accept the excuse, "I was led astray; I was unfortunate, and so became ruined." The law of God holds firm to the letter, and His justice will not bend to the plea of human weakness. But while the law was stern, there was room left for the entrance of redeeming love.

First of all you get righteousness. God is always righteous. He never does a needless thing nor an unrighteous thing. So in verse 25 we see righteousness. This man acknowledges the justice; he does not deny the debt, but casts himself on mercy. "Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything." The thought is that the man owns the justness of the claim. "And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt."

Here the kingdom of heaven is compared to a human king. That prepares us for certain features in the story that we must not attribute to God Himself… So the king orders him to be sold, along with his wife and children and everything belonging to him, to pay the debt. We see the "human" king in this, of course. Yet there is this truth in it: the sinner against God, as far as he can, wrecks not only himself but everyone connected with him. No man can be his own enemy only, as men sometimes assert.

But one debtor is specified, and his debt enormous… Not less guilty is the sinner before God. No wonder he "was brought to Him": of himself he would never come. Everything depends on how real a person's submission to God's righteousness is. If he is not born of God, it is only surface deep.

This parable may be read in two ways: as the history of God's dealings with a nation, and as a lesson for each heart. Read as history, it presents to us the story of the people of Israel. Centuries of law breaking had made them serious defaulters before the Son of God came into the world. To all this they added the enormous guilt of shedding His blood. He prayed, "Father, forgive them." In answer, God showed favour to the nation after the Holy Spirit came down from heaven.

The King James Version says: 'The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.' Mr. Darby translates 'worshipped him' as 'did him homage', and the English Standard Version has 'imploring him'. These other translations help us grasp the sense of the verse, but the question remains why the Greek word for 'worship' is used. Worship means 'bowing down'. That is the attitude a person should take before God. But sometimes the word is used in a more general sense, for the physical position taken. That is the case here.

The distinction has been put like this: makrothumia expresses patience with people, hupomone patience with things… From Exodus 34:6 on, makrothumos is used again and again of God in the Greek Old Testament. In Proverbs 15:18 and 16:32 it matches our phrase "slow to anger," though the patient restraint it expresses is not limited to anger… For the verb makrothumeo, see Matthew 18:26 and 29… It means "a long holding out of the mind before it gives room to action or passion," and it is applied to God, in His forbearance towards those who provoke Him.

We are all helplessly in debt to the supreme King. It is good that there is mercy with Him that no figures can measure. The debtor falls at his lord's feet with an impossible plea for mercy in his own case — how impossible in our own! "I will pay you everything." The king can accept no such agreement and takes no notice of it. But his heart is moved with compassion, and acting on that, he "released him and forgave him the debt."

In the parable the guilty servant promises to pay all, and is released. But he has barely left the King's presence when his wicked heart shows itself, and the king's anger falls on him. He thought he would take advantage of the mercy of the king, but he must add his own works: he was not trusting to that mercy. It is no use for me to think I can deliver myself by making a part payment. I can never repay: it is no use making promises and seeking pardon on my merits.

It was his own that he was demanding. Apart from the violence used, he was, as men say, quite within his rights. That was not the question, and everyone sees at once that it was not. We too may be within our rights when we demand what is ours from other people. So why are we not as clear-eyed about the real state of things in our own case as we are about this man? We have been forgiven too (if we are Christians), and our own debt was so great that his was nothing beside it.

Huge numbers claim to have received His pardon. "I believe in the forgiveness of sins" is said daily by crowds across the Christian world. But conduct alone proves whether the grace of God has truly reached the soul. Where it has, the forgiven person gratefully walks in the spirit of grace towards everyone, bearing wrong with meekness and seeking every person's eternal good.

The servant who owed God 10,000 talents is, in history, the Jew. He took greedy advantage of the gracious forgetting of everything that the gospel offered. But he was so little filled with the Spirit of Christ that he hated and persecuted, refusing any mercy to the Gentile.

"But that servant went out" — out from an experience like this! And the fellow servant he seized by the throat owed him a hundred denarii: about a 700,000th part of his own debt, just forgiven.

At the close of Matthew 18 we have a parable which teaches us that a man who asserts his rights is ignorant of the character and proper effect of grace. The servant was not unrighteous in demanding what was due to him; but he was ungracious. He was totally unlike his master. He had been forgiven ten thousand talents, and yet he could seize his fellow by the throat for a paltry hundred denarii.

It was his own that he was demanding. Apart from the violence used, he was, as men say, quite within his rights. That was not the question; and everyone at once understands that that was not the question. We too may be within our rights when we demand from others what is our own. So why are we not as clear in judging our own case as we are in judging the man in front of us? God has forgiven us (if we are Christians) just as He forgave him — and our debt was so great that his was nothing beside it.

Here is the debtor who did not keep the word or bear fruit with patience. "On going out," he soon showed how empty he was. He was a dead stone, a man who had never tasted that the Lord is good, and he ruthlessly attacked his fellow servant, who owed him a much smaller debt.

This man is unforgiving and cruel; he choked his fellow servant. Merciless and cruel, he had no sense of forgiveness. If there is anything like a real sense of grace in our souls, it will make us patient and watchful over our spirits… Notice this: the master did not call him a wicked servant because he owed the debt. He was not angry with him for that. He was angry with him when the man was merciless and unforgiving.

Read one way, it presents to us the history of the people of Israel… In answer to His gracious prayer, "Father, forgive them," divine favour was shown to the nation after the Holy Spirit came down from heaven. To Israel first the gospel of divine forgiveness was sent (Acts 3:26). This, instead of melting their hearts, only served to bring out their complete moral insensibility to God's goodness.

Huge numbers of people say every day, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." But conduct alone proves whether or not the grace of God has really penetrated the soul. Where it has, the forgiven one gratefully walks in the spirit of grace towards all, patiently enduring wrong, and sincerely seeking every man's eternal good.