Unworthy servants

Jesus said: “Suppose one of you has a servant ploughing or looking after the sheep. Will he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, ‘Come along now and sit down to eat’? Won’t he rather say, ‘Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink’? Will he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’” Luke 17:7-10

If you are a Christian I would be pretty sure that you know the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10); it’s beautiful and very challenging. But, beneath its surface simplicity there is a whole deeper meaning.

I wonder if you know this?...

The man journeying from Jerusalem to Jericho stands for Adam. Jerusalem is the city of peace, from which Adam has fallen. Jericho is the moon, signifying Adam’s mortality. The robbers are the devil and his angels and when they stripped him they robbed him of his immortality. They beat him by causing him to sin. As he lay half-dead, he was still alive physically, but dead spiritually. The priest and the Levite stand for the Old Testament religious law. The Samaritan is Christ. The wine and oil are the means of healing.. The inn is the church. The day of the Samaritan’s return is the resurrection. The two denarii are the promise of this life and of the life to come.. The innkeeper is Paul.

You didn’t know that?

That was the interpretation offered by Bishop Augustine of Hippo (354-430), generally regarded as one of the greatest theologians in the history of the church. And it’s an interpretation which, today, is greeted with a disbelieving smile and a shake of the head: how utterly absurd!

But let’s be careful. That’s just a grotesque example of a tendency to go to the Bible determined to squeeze all sorts of unlikely truths out of a plain text – a tendency which hasn’t completely disappeared. Augustine’s technique is known as “allegory”, where details of the story are made to correspond with spiritual realities. But it can come in a variety of forms, especially when we are dealing with parables of Jesus.

(There are, in fact, preachers and teachers who insist on finding Jesus in literally every Bible verse, Old Testament as well as New, even including the Song of Songs or the long lists of names in 1 Chronicles 1 or Ezra 7. There’s no doubt that the Old Testament as a whole points towards Jesus; but to shoe-horn him somehow into literally every verse makes no sense at all.)

What’s all this got to do with Luke 17:7-10, the “parable of the unworthy servant”, the passage at the top?

Jesus speaks about the way a rich man at that time and in that place would naturally treat his servants. And it really isn’t particularly pleasant: in effect… “You’ve finished off in the fields? Right, I’m ready for my supper now, so you’d better get cleaned up and start cooking. When you’ve finished that you can sit down and grab something yourself. Oh, and by the way, don’t expect any thanks from me – you’re only my servant, remember, only doing your job…”

In the context of the passage the harsh master obviously stands for God. But is that really the way God treats those who seek to serve him? Didn’t Jesus explicitly tell his disciples, “I no longer call you servants… instead I have called you friends” (John 15:15)? Didn’t he himself kneel down at the apostles’ feet to wash them (John 13:1-17)? Didn’t he tell them that “my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30)?

And isn’t this one of the greatest things he ever said: “the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve…” (Matthew 20: 28)? And doesn’t that seem to directly contradict the parable?

(You might even find it slightly shocking that Jesus seems to treat slavery, now recognised as a great evil, in such an uncaring and casual way: him of all people; surely not!)

So, what does the parable of the unworthy servant in fact mean?

The key to understanding any parable is to look for one basic point, not to go rummaging around searching for deep truths. One writer compares parables to jokes, where what matters is the punch-line; as soon as you hear it you get the point and laugh. With the parables you get the point and nod your head in appreciation: “Ah, of course, I see what he’s getting at!”

And the point of this parable, using the regular practice of slavery as an illustration, is to remind Jesus’ followers that they have no claims on God.

We can’t put God in our debt. Suppose (going back a few verses) we have shown enough faith to uproot some mulberry trees and plant them in the sea – well, that’s great, but let’s not get above ourselves, let’s not develop a sense of “entitlement”: “I’ve shown really powerful faith! I really am a bit special!”. Strictly speaking, our status is that of a servant; it is only by the mercy and kindness of God that we have become his children.

That’s the essence of the story, and we would go badly astray if we decided to press all the details – especially the hardship of the servant and the coldness of the master – instead of just digesting that key lesson.

In fact, I can’t help seeing a little irony here. The master is completely indifferent to the servant’s need of a meal. But isn’t a meal exactly what our Master promises us?

It’s called “the marriage-supper of the Lamb”. Thanks be to God!

Father, when I come to passages in your word which are a little tricky or puzzling, give me the patience to pray and think them through until the light of the Spirit dawns to give me understanding. Amen.