Text:  Luke 17:1-10                                                                                        W 20^th Sunday after Pentecost

Unworthy Servants

            Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  Dear friends and fellow unworthy servants – yes, that’s right, we’re all unworthy.  And as Lutheran Christians, most of us are used to hearing it—and saying it too, as we did during the confession of sins, “… we are by nature sinful and unclean” and we keep on sinning against God in what we think, we say, and we do, and even in the things that we don’t do but should. It’s all rather depressing; at least that’s what we often hear from fellow Christians from other traditions who aren’t quite so negative about things.  “You Lutherans are too hard on yourselves.  Sure, that’s what you used to be, perhaps, but now in Christ you are a new creation.  You’ve been washed and redeemed.  You’re holy. So get out there and do good things that glorify God.”

            And while there’s an element of truth in that, we Lutherans approach things from a different perspective.  We know that properly speaking we can do nothing that glorifies God.  It’s rather that God glorifies himself in us.  Because we are sinners by nature – that is, in the very core of our being, there’s nothing we can do that is not defiled by sin.  In fact, there’s a real danger in thinking otherwise.  Because as soon as I start to imagine that I’m doing good, I begin to trust in the good things I think I’ve done to give me some standing of worthiness before God.  And to the degree that I think I’m worthy, I don’t think I need to rely on Christ. At that point, I am, at least in part, making myself my own savior.  This is why we always stress our unworthiness.  We want to approach the Lord in complete humility, with nothing in our hands, despairing of what we have done, and relying upon him alone for everything that pertains to life and salvation.  This is what it means to have him as our God and Savior.

            Being a Christian is not about doing good; it’s first and foremost about believing in what God has done for you:  that God made you, loved you, and sent his Son to die for your sins.  Your contribution:  zero. All you’re to do is believe it – and since you can’t even do that, God sends you his Word and Holy Spirit to create and hold faith in your heart.  But with this faith comes a fundamental change in the heart of the believer.  A new spiritual nature is born inside of us that wages a war with our old sinful nature.  This new nature is God’s work in us, and with it he can accomplish his work through us:  good things that reflect glory to him; but the point is that it’s always his work that’s good – not ours.  Our part is still zero.  We always come to him empty-handed, unworthy, and humble. 

            And lest we begin to imagine otherwise, in today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus points out two of the more challenging aspects of being a Christian – aspects that are sure to keep us humble before him.  It starts with this thought:  most of us think of our sin as a private thing.  It’s something between me and God alone.  But it’s okay because we’ve got that licked. I sin.  I repent. God forgives.  Then it’s forgotten – and then it’s none of your business; or so we like to think.  But Jesus says it’s not that simple.  It’s much more complicated than that.  And that’s because of the damage your sin may have done to the faith and spiritual well-being of others.

            It’s what is sometimes called the sin of “giving offense”; that is, doing something that causes someone else to sin.  The word Jesus uses actually means, “to make someone stumble”.  According to Jesus, it’s bad enough to sin yourself, but it’s far worse to make someone else stumble into sin or unbelief.  Now, you may think, “Hold it. Everyone is free to choose what they do or don’t do – I can’t make someone sin.”  No, you can’t.  But then, neither can Satan – but like him you can do a lot of encouragement, and we often do.

            First, and most obviously, there are deliberate enticements to sin.  Especially among younger people they may come in the form of a challenge, as in:  “C’mon, are you chicken?”   Other times it’s done by attempting to minimize the guilt or consequences of an evil action, as in, “it’s not that bad”, or “no one will ever find out”.  When we do this, we’re playing exactly the same role as the devil, which is why Jesus says that it’s such a serious thing.  And although our goal may not be to drag a soul into hell, there’s no denying that it might very well be the result.  It very often happens that the reason we tempt others in such ways is to get a willing accomplice for ourselves so that we don’t feel so bad about something we’re doing or that we want to do.  If someone else is participating, I can fool myself into believing it’s not so wrong.  It’s a way to quiet a guilty conscience.  And along the same lines, daring someone to go beyond the limits and do something really wild may be an effort to prove to yourself that “at least I’m not as bad as” whoever it was you challenged.  Then temptation is used as a way to prove to yourself that you’re morally superior. However, as we’ve seen, Jesus indicates that it’s the one who tempts who holds the greater guilt.

            But those are all very obvious ways your actions may cause others to stumble.  A little less obvious, but equally harmful to someone’s faith, is the practice of simply ignoring their sin.  You pretend not to notice or to care that someone you know is involved in something that’s wrong.  And by saying nothing, you effectively tell them that it’s okay.  You sanction their evil or self destructive behavior by your silence.  Christian love demands that you step in and give a brotherly warning.  But usually we take the coward’s way out.  We don’t say anything to our fellow Christians who are involved in immoral relationships, or who habitually despise the means of grace by avoiding public worship, or who practice any of a number of other sins we’ve determined just aren’t that bad any more.  We especially avoid it when it’s a member of our own family who’s doing it. Have you ever noticed how often Christians change their view about a particular sin when they find out that their own son or daughter is involved in it? 

            Another way we can lead people into sin is by the example of our own lives.  People learn what’s acceptable and what’s not by watching others.  And while it’s possible to influence anyone this way, it’s especially a concern for parents, teachers, leaders, celebrities, and yes, pastors … well, some pastors anyway … really anyone to whom people look up for one reason or another.  With any position of authority, God assigns the responsibility of setting a good and godly example.  People imitate what they see and respect.  And anytime we fail to set a good example we can be leading others astray. Of course, this is especially an issue for those whose responsibilities include teaching God’s Word.  Not only do they have to set an example of behavior, it falls on them to proclaim God’s message clearly, completely, and without straying from sound doctrine.  Whole congregations can, and sometimes are, led away from the true faith by deliberately deceptive pastors – those who are wolves in sheep’s clothing.  But they don’t have to be intentionally deceptive to do great damage to the body of Christ.  In far more cases it’s done by pastors who are poorly trained or misguided, or by those who are very sincere about what they teach but are very sincerely mistaken. That’s why it’s incumbent upon every Christian to know and study sound doctrine, and to hold their shepherds accountable for teaching it (and yes, I’m talking about me too).  If you know your pastor or teacher is wrong about some point of doctrine, it’s your duty to try to correct him.  You owe it to him as a brother in Christ – but you owe it even more to all the other people who may be led astray by his teaching.  And if you suspect that something’s wrong but aren’t quite sure, then it’s your duty to find out.  Lives may be saved as a result.

            And thus far I’ve only mentioned a few of the ways you can sin by causing others to stumble or to stray from the faith.  And for such sin, Jesus reserves some of his harshest words.  “It would be better for you to have a heavy millstone hung about your neck and be cast into the sea.”  Effectively, that’s what we do to others when we influence them to sin.  We’re tying them to a burden of sin or deceit and sending them swimming in the sea of God’s judgment.  All Jesus is saying is that we should expect for ourselves what we do to others.

            And that brings us to the next thing Jesus talks about in this passage of Scripture.  First he mentioned how your sin affects your brother; now he moves on to how you let your brother’s sin affect you.  If it’s a serious thing to cause your brother to sin, then it’s just as serious not to forgive a brother when he sins against you and then repents. Not only are we to avoid giving offense, we’re not to take any.  And with that in mind, before we even begin to think about the need to forgive someone who’s done us wrong, we need to ask if there was really a wrong in the first place. The eighth commandment requires us to “put the best construction on everything”, or as the modern version says it: “to explain everything in the kindest possible way.”  Too often we want to “read between the lines” or cast dispersions of doubt when it comes to the behavior or words of others.  We do this especially when we’re angry with someone about something.  Then with each subsequent exposure to the person, we analyze every word, facial expression, and message of body language and spin it as negatively as possible. And even when we don’t see them, we sit and speculate about what wretched thoughts and schemes they must be plotting.  We imagine the worst and take the attitude, “I’m sure he’s sinning against me in some way; I just have to figure out how.”  It reminds me of the story of the old busybody lady at a church who went around telling everyone that their newest member, an older gentleman, must be an alcoholic because on certain nights she saw his pickup truck parked outside a local tavern.  Word got back to the fellow about what she’d been saying about him; but he just seemed to brush it off.  A few days later, someone asked him, “Doesn’t it bother you that she’s going around telling everyone that you’re a drunk?”  He said, “Naw.  Now whenever I go to the tavern, I park my truck in front of her house, and I leave it there all night.”  The point is that it’s our own sinful minds that create some of the so-called sins of others – and that we’re often offended when there’s no reason to be.

            But let’s suppose you have been sinned against and the offender comes to set things right.  Too often we feel it’s necessary to force our repentant brother to prove how contrite he is.  Before we can forgive him, he has to demonstrate better behavior for a period of probation, and perhaps somehow make up for his offense, maybe even suffer a little – especially if he’s a repeat offender.  I think couples especially will understand what I’m talking about here.  But it’s funny:  God doesn’t ask that of us.  If he did, which of us would qualify for his forgiveness?  No, we’re not asked to measure sincerity of repentance, or wait until we see signs of improvement before we forgive a person.  Neither are we to forecast what someone might do in the future and use that as an excuse to withhold forgiveness.  If we did try to guess the future, we’d have to say “He’s still going to be a sinner; he’s probably going to do it again.”  But that’s no reason to fail to forgive.  The Lord knows exactly what you’re going to do in the future, but still he doesn’t fail to forgive you when you repent. Which is why Jesus says if someone sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes to you asking for forgiveness, you are to forgive without question.

            So, in today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus is telling us that sin is not a private matter.  Not only do we have to watch out for ourselves; but we are responsible for all the evil influence we have on others.  At the same time, we are to forgive others completely and without question anytime they confess their sin and say they’re sorry.  And please understand that these aren’t the lofty heights of discipleship that we’re to be struggling to reach – that we pursue only half-heartedly because we know full well that we’ll never attain them.  No, these are the minimum expectations.

            And by now you may be thinking, “That’s impossible!  Being a follower of Jesus is much harder than I thought.  If that’s what’s required, I’m totally unworthy!” That’s right.  And that’s what the disciples thought when Jesus told them these things.  Their response was, “Lord, increase our faith!” They recognized how far short they fell of the minimum expectations.  But here’s what’s remarkable:  they also correctly realized that faith would enable them to do what they could not do by their own power – which only proves that they had faith. You can’t come to realization without it.  They also correctly realized that faith was something that could only be given and strengthened by Jesus.

            Our Lord responded to their prayer by telling them how powerful faith really is.  “Faith as tiny as a mustard seed can by a word rip out the deep roots of a mulberry, and throw the whole tree into the sea.” Now look, he’s not suggesting that we should use our faith to destroy forests; but he’s telling us that the faith we already have can perform things that are humanly impossible.  That’s because God works in us by our faith. Specifically, he works to pull up our deep-rooted problems of sin.  He pulls them out and casts them away into the sea of his judgment where they’re drowned.  He’s saying that you have that faith and can accomplish that now – the problem is that your expectations for your faith are too low.  You don’t realize what you’ve got.  Paul tells Timothy the same thing in the epistle reading:  “You’ve got sincere faith.  Fan it into flame; because it’s not been placed in you by a spirit of timidity, but by the Spirit of power, of love, and of self discipline.”  He’s saying, “You’ve got it – these things are not beyond your capability.  Put your faith to work.”

            And by faith you will do amazing things – things you thought were impossible.  Things like being conscious of how your life and actions affect others, and doing those things which will influence others for good; and forgiving freely, from your heart, those who offend you.  You will surprise yourself with what your faith can do – or rather, what God can accomplish in you by faith.  Which is why Jesus follows up with a warning about getting carried away with yourself. He compares your faithful service to the work of the slave in the field, who comes home after a hard day’s work, and still has to serve his master supper before he can eat.  Likewise, after you’ve been out doing what he’s empowered you to do by faith, don’t expect him to start treating you like the master.  Even if you did everything perfectly, you’d only be meeting minimum expectations.

            And yet, the irony is that Jesus is the kind of master who treats his servants in this extraordinary way.  He sends us out to work for him in our daily lives; but when all is said and done, we have to admit that we are unworthy servants, who have failed to even meet the smallest requirements.  But when it’s time for rest and refreshment, he calls us here to gather in his church where he serves us.  Here he washes our soiled souls, and sets the table for us to feast on the forgiveness he earned for us when he died on the cross.  Here he answers the prayer of the disciples to “Increase our faith”.  We serve an incredible Master.  May we, his unworthy servants, let him serve us to increase our faith so that through us he can accomplish amazing things.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria!