Borrowed: Revisited

Then Peter came up and said to him, "Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?"

Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven. Therefore the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his servants. When he began to settle, one was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents. And since he could not pay, his master ordered him to be sold, with his wife and children and all that he had, and payment to be made. So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.' And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt. But when that same servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him, he began to choke him, saying, 'Pay what you owe.' So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you.' He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt. When his fellow servants saw what had taken place, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their master all that had taken place. Then his master summoned him and said to him, 'You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?' And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt. So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart."

–Matthew 18: 21-35 (ESV)

“What I don’t understand, Ian…” began Mr. Johnson, placing one hand on the squad car door and dropping to one knee in order to be level with his son. The teenager, his hands cuffed behind his back, remained hunched over in the car seat, staring at the flashing blue in the puddles beneath his tennis shoes. His messy dark hair obscured his scowling face. After several patient moments, Mr. Johnson reached a hand to Ian’s chin and gently lifted it to reveal two brown eyes and finished, “…is why did you do it?”

“He deserved it,” Ian said, starring coldly into his father’s eyes.

“How?”

“I already told you. He owed me two hundred bucks, all right?”

“And I told you to let it go. So why did you go after him?”

“It was my money and he took it!” Ian said through clenched teeth.

Mr. Johnson sighed, pausing for several moments. He looked Ian over carefully, reminded of the younger version of himself in appearance, but unfortunately not in behavior. “Son, I’m pretty sure if we were to settle accounts, you’d owe me a lot more than that.”

The reply was quick as Ian’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, I’ve never stolen from you.”

“No,” Mr. Johnson said slowly, “you haven’t. But what about that car of mine you totaled?”

“Insurance paid for that,” Ian quickly interjected.

“And who pays for the insurance? Or your last three speeding tickets? And who bailed you out last time you got in trouble with the cops?”

The boy turned his face away.

“What about your braces, Ian? Or your last hair cut? What about the clothes on your back, and all the ones inside your closet? What about the dinner you ate last night, or the breakfast you left on the table? What about the house you live in, or the bed you sleep in? You’ve never paid me for any of these things, and yet I gave them to you!”

Silence.

“Son, the money wasn’t yours to begin with. It was mine. If anyone was ‘owed’ it was me, not you. You had no right to try to take revenge; you didn’t even have a right to be angry, because it’s all borrowed stuff.”