Luke 17:1-10 - The Right Combination - October 2, 2022

“The right combination.” Meteorologists use that phrase when they believe that the atmospheric conditions are just right for a hurricane or tornado or some other weather event. Sports commentators say it when in their judgment a player has the right blend of speed, strength and talent to become a superstar. Political analysts say it around election time, when, in their estimation, there is just the “right combination” of sinking poll numbers, economic turmoil, and social unrest for an incumbent to lose and a challenger to win. But today we’re talking about something far more important than the weather, sports or politics. Today, Jesus describes the “right combination” of what it takes to be a Christian, his disciple.

 

While these verses may seem like a series of random, disconnected statements, there’s one thread that ties everything together: everything Jesus describes is (or at least seems) impossible. Its starts already in the first verse. Our translation reads: temptations to sin are sure to come – but a more literal translation would be it is impossible that death traps will not come. It’s impossible to avoid temptations and pitfalls in this fallen world, but woe to the one through whom they come. In fact, it would be better for you have a millstone hung around your neck and be thrown into Lake Michigan than for you to cause one of these littles ones to sin. Some Muslim nations still cut off the hands of thieves. Several states still execute capital criminals. But only mob bosses and drug lords have ever picked drowning as a fitting punishment. Yet here, Jesus is suggesting that just this type of cruel and unusual punishment would be better than leading another Christian to sin. Why? Because leading someone else to sin is putting their soul in danger of hell. Without question, we would be better off dead than leading someone to sin. So watch yourselves. Watch your words, watch your actions – because they don’t only affect you and your eternity, they affect the people around you and their eternities as well!

 

Then what should we do when sin inevitably raises its ugly head? If your brother sins, rebuke him. Pretty simple, right? If a fellow believer falls into sin, confront them gently but firmly and call them to repentance. But in a culture where it’s considered absolutely unacceptable to question the right of anyone to do anything – rebuking sin often seems all but impossible. “What if they get mad? What if they never talk to me again? What if it ruins our relationship? It’s not my place; let someone else do it.” That begs the question: how many of us actually obeyed Jesus’ command – even once – much less consistently? When’s the last time you called someone – be it a family member or fellow church member to repentance? And yet, Jesus says that it’s impossible for sins not to happen, so there should to be plenty of rebuking happening. Have you loved someone enough to rebuke them? If not, why not? More importantly, if we can’t even obey this simple command, do we have any right to call ourselves Christians?

 

Believe it or not, we haven’t even gotten to the really hard part yet. Rebuking sin is only a preliminary, preparatory duty. Just as God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him (John 3:17) so our primary duty as Christians is not to rebuke sin but to forgive it. Even if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times returns to you and says, ‘I repent,’ forgive him. Again, in a world that loves to dredge up sins from the past and use them to damage careers and reputations today, where holding on to rage seems like a political virtue, where many marriages and families and churches have been destroyed by the refusal to forgive even once – this sounds impossible. The more cynical part of us might suggest that Jesus must not know what it’s like to be married or to have children or to belong to a church that’s full of sinners. If we’re honest though, we might confess what Jesus is commanding is beyond our ability; that it seems impossible.

 

And we’re not alone. The apostles recognized how impossible these commands were. They realized that the duties of discipleship required something they didn’t think they had enough of: not clarity, not direction, but faith. They realized – and so should we – that it takes great faith to rebuke and forgive sin. So they say increase our faith. “Lord, you’ve got to increase our faith if we’re to do this!” And how did Jesus respond to this request? “You have enough faith.” If you had faith like a mustard seed, you could tell this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. Mulberry trees are troublesome. They have massive root systems. There is as much mulberry tree underground as there is above. It’s hard enough to get rid of a mulberry tree, much less uproot it and then plant it in the sea. It’s impossible. But Jesus is saying that if faith the size of a mustard seed can accomplish this impossible task – then faith the size of a mustard seed is more than enough to enable us to carry out our duties of rebuking and forgiving sin. Then why does it still feel so impossible to do what Jesus asks? Why does discipleship seem relatively easy when all we have to do is show up and sit down on Sunday mornings – but impossibly difficult when it comes to properly dealing with sin?

 

Clearly, Jesus’ point is that it’s not impossible. Maybe a better way to describe it would be “unnatural.” Not causing people to sin, rebuking others when they sin, and forgiving sins against us only appears impossible because it seems so unnatural. A recent court-case from Texas bears this out. Last December, a man called Jamie Jaramillo shot and killed a Mesquite, Texas police officer named Richard Houston. At Jamie’s sentencing just over two weeks ago, Richard Houston’s family, including his daughter, spoke. This is what his 19-year-old daughter, Shelby, said, “I forgive you, Jamie Jaramillo, for shooting and murdering my father. My prayer down the road is to spend time with you. Not to yell at you, not to scold you, simply to tell you about Jesus.” [1] Needless to say, even the usually heartless media was struck by this radical demonstration of forgiveness. Why? Because it was so unnatural. Because today people tend to deal with sin with cruel and senseless social media posts and destructive riots, not with grace and forgiveness.

 

 

 

 

The question is: why does it seem so unnatural and nearly impossible for us to deal with sin the way Jesus commands? Because we often do what the apostles did: we try to measure our faith. We try to measure if we have the strength, the courage and boldness to do what Jesus commands – and if we feel that we’re lacking, then we can use that weakness to justify our failure to do our duty. That’s a problem. Not a lack of faith problem, but a focus of faith problem. Here’s where Jesus’ picture of the mulberry tree comes in. His point is that even faith the size of a mustard seed in the almighty Word of God can do unnatural and seemingly impossible things. If God’s Word commanded you to uproot and replant a mulberry tree, you could do it. God’s Word doesn’t command or promise anything about mulberry trees. It does, however, clearly and frequently, command us to rebuke sin and then forgive it.

 

Do you have that kind of faith? The mustard seed size kind of faith that dutifully rebukes and forgives sin simply because God’s Word commands and promises it? No, I don’t either. That’s because discipleship is like a combination lock: two numbers are never enough. You need at least three. Jesus has so far covered two parts: duty and faith. There’s one more thing needed, and that’s grace. That’s where his little illustration about plowing, shepherding, and serving comes in. Jesus is saying that the only way we can do the impossible, unnatural things he’s commanding is by God’s grace.

 

Wait a minute…where is that in this parable? If we could all read Greek we would see this. In verse 9 Jesus literally asks “he would not have grace (χάριν) for the servant because he did what he was told, would he?” By the way Jesus asks the question he’s expecting a “no” answer. No, a master doesn’t give grace to his slave because he does what he’s been told. That’s both unnatural and impossible. You can’t get grace by doing anything – if you could, it wouldn’t be grace (Romans 11:6).

 

So follow Jesus’ line of logic here: faith is needed to carry out your unnatural and impossible duties as a Christian, but where does faith come from? Grace! And where does grace come from? Grace comes from God, not from you. Look for it inside yourself, look for it in the worthiness of the person or in your thoughts and feelings and you won’t find the grace, the fuel, to do what you’ve been commanded. Grace can only be received from the outside. You can’t merit grace; you can’t win it; you can’t deserve it.

 

I said a couple weeks ago that you can often find the Gospel in the part of the parable that seems “off”, that doesn’t seem right, that doesn’t make sense. The Gospel in this parable is that God has shattered all the norms of a servant / master relationship. God does what no earthly master ever would. He gives us grace even though we haven’t done what we’ve been told. That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. We don’t even do the most basic things we’re supposed to do as Christians – like rebuke and forgive sin – and yet, God is still gracious to us. Why? There’s an acronym that tells you everything you need to know about grace: God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense. God gives you grace only because of Jesus. He’s the only One who always did what his Father commanded him to do. He never rolled his eyes, never muttered in protest, never argued that it was impossible – he never once failed to either rebuke or forgive sin, and he certainly never caused anyone else to sin. He was the perfect man, the perfect disciple. And what was his reward? It was even worse than death by drowning – his reward was death on a cross. God didn’t hang a millstone around his neck – but he did hang all of our sins, every last one of our failures to do our duty on him. That weight didn’t drag him to the bottom of the sea, but it did drag him into the depths of hell – where God held him until he had satisfied his righteous wrath. But when he said it is finished (John 19:30), it was. Jesus had drained every last ounce of God’s wrath against us (Romans 8:1) – so that all that’s left in his heart for us now is simple, beautiful, undeserved grace. That’s why, I can say without hesitation that whether you have been dutiful or disobedient, whether your faith is the size of a mountain or a mustard seed, the only thing God has for you is rich, boundless, impossible grace.

 

Doing our duty as disciples is impossible. It’s impossible for us to perfectly rebuke and forgive sin – no matter how big we think our faith is. But we can be unworthy, can’t we? And when we confess that we are unworthy servants then we’re right where God wants us. That’s why we call the main things we do in church the means of grace. Baptism is grace poured out on infants who can do absolutely nothing for God. Absolution is the grace of forgiveness applied to self-confessed, self-convicted sinners. Communion is the gift of Jesus’ own body and blood offered to sinners who can never be worthy to receive them (1 Corinthians 11:29). You can’t deserve to be baptized, absolved, or communed. And yet, through these means, God gives you his grace for Jesus’ sake.

 

So I’ll ask one more time, do you have what it takes to be a disciple, do you have the right combination? Remember what Jesus does and doesn’t command us in this text. He’s not commanding us to plant mulberry trees anywhere, but he does command us to rebuke and forgive sin; and, finally, he does command us to say we are unworthy servants; we have only done what we were supposed to do. That’s a confession you can live with and, more importantly, die with, because it is the most basic confession of faith: that we can be disciples only by God’s grace and not by our own effort. You have God’s grace, and with that gift, you do have the right combination; you have just what you need to do the seemingly impossible duties of a Christian. Amen.  


[1] https://www.nbcdfw.com/news/local/slain-mesquite-police-officers-daughter-offers-convicted-killer-forgiveness/3073465/