When Jesus told parables, he often avoided straightforward hero/villain figures. The prodigal son and his brother, the shrewd manager, the unjust judge — Jesus generally gives us surprisingly complex characters to wrestle with in his short stories. But the unforgiving debtor: obviously a bad guy.* He receives the mercy of the king, and then turns around and inflicts the ruin he only just escaped on someone else. People may disagree on other Bible characters, but I’ve never heard anyone speak up for this guy. He’s a jerk! And worse, a hypocrite!
The problem is… I kind of get it? Not that I think he was right, but I understand his logic. He had nearly lost everything, including his very freedom, over a debt. Never again!, he says to himself. So he goes about making sure he can protect himself against future debts, no matter if it means denying others the kind of compassion that spared his life.
In acting from his terror and pain and passing it on to the next person, the unforgiving debtor is actually pretty normal. As Richard Rohr wrote, “Scapegoating, exporting our unresolved hurt, is the most common storyline of human history.” This is what we humans do: snap at our families after a rough day at work, judge people we meet because we’ve felt like outsiders in the past, hold loved ones at arm’s length because we’ve been hurt before. Maybe it’s an inborn tendency. We’ve all seen the toddler who – tired or hungry or both – makes life miserable for everyone within a three-grocery-aisle radius. And though it’s childish, we never really grow out of trying to play hot-potato with our pain, as if by throwing it off on to someone else we will be rid of it ourselves.
But then there’s Jesus, stubbornly refusing to play the game. Not when they mock him, not when they chase him out of town, not even as he hangs dying on a cross. This, as much as walking on water, as much as multiplying loaves and fishes, is miraculous to me.
–Erica Lloyd, Seekers Church
For More…
Read the full post, Transforming Pain, by Richard Rohr
