When Neither Could Pay
Luke 7:40-43 - And Jesus answering said to him, "Simon, I have something to say to you." And he answered, "Say it, Teacher." "A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?" Simon answered, "The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt." And he said to him, "You have judged rightly."
Years ago, I remember hearing about another pastor's moral failure and thinking to myself, “At least I haven't done that!” That’s an uncomfortable thought to admit. Another person’s failure had given me a way to feel better about myself. There were people affected by what had happened, and here I was finding reassurance in the distance between his record and mine. The fact that I had not committed that particular sin was something to be grateful for. But I was using it to avoid a much more searching question: What’s happening in my own heart?
Jesus tells Simon about two people who owe money. One owes five hundred denarii and the other owes fifty. The amounts are different, and Jesus lets them remain different. He doesn’t pretend every wrong does the same damage. Then He tells us the fact that puts both debtors in need of mercy: neither can pay! The person with the smaller debt can point to the larger one, but the comparison contributes nothing toward what he owes. He might feel more responsible. He may even be more responsible. But he still needs the creditor to do something he can’t do for himself.
I can recognize myself in that smaller debtor. Can you? We can be accurate about someone else’s wrongdoing and use that accuracy to become remarkably incurious about our own. Pride is quite comfortable borrowing the language of moral concern. But Jesus’ parable makes room for something better than comparison. The creditor cancels both debts. He knows the amounts and their inability to pay, and releases them. Their freedom begins in his generosity.
That is the mercy by which I live. My hope before God is Jesus Christ, who bore my sin and rose again. My ministry can’t purchase what He gives. Neither can the list of scandals I’ve avoided. At the cross, He dealt with guilt I could never remove from my own account. Receiving that mercy changes how I hear another person’s failure. I can grieve the harm, care about those who were wounded, and want genuine repentance without making the story an advertisement for my own goodness. Forgiveness and accountability belong together. We don’t have to minimize evil in order to remember our dependence on grace.
Perhaps your comparison begins with a sibling, a former friend, a colleague, or someone in the news. Their failure may be real. The question is what you are doing with it. Has it become a reason to pray, or a place to hide? The One who forgives us can also make us tender toward those who have suffered and humble toward those who have fallen. I don't want another person’s worst moment to become the measure of my righteousness. Christ has already given me a better place to stand, and it leaves me with nothing to boast about except His grace.
Head: My standing before God rests on Christ’s mercy, not on a comparison with someone else’s life.
Heart: Whose failures have I been using to reassure myself that I don’t need correction?
Hands: Confess one wrong without comparing yourself with anyone else.
Prayer: “Lord Jesus, forgive me for using another person’s failure to feel better about myself. Thank You that my hope rests in the mercy You purchased at the cross. Give me humility about my own great need to depend on grace. Let Your compassion shape the way I speak and pray about people whose failures become known. Amen.”
-PK