Admittedly, his mind was wandering. Not in a disrespectful way. He wasn’t imagining his next fishing expedition, contemplating dinner plans, or fretting over his decided lack of income. He was actually still listening to the preaching. Partially. Half of his mind was running down a different trail not entirely far from what Jesus was preaching. His directives about removing sin from among the body of believers had Peter thinking some thoughts, asking some questions, wondering what, exactly, the etiquette was for the ones injured by those sins. Really. How many times was one required to forgive those who wronged, hurt, or abused them? What would be enough? At what point, if any, was forgiveness no longer available to those who continued on in their own selfishness, hurting and offending others, yet never changing their behavior? Forgiving the first offense could be difficult enough. It seemed unfair that a repeat offender should receive the same response multiple times. Having pondered the options and come up with a distinctly generous number, Peter posed his question to Jesus. How many times should one forgive another who sins against them? If one were to keep track of absolutions, would seven be a respectable number?
Calculators work differently in Heaven, it seems. Jesus’ equations computed a shockingly different number. Without taking into account the type of sin, the level of damage, the amount of offenses, He threw out a staggeringly high number. He multiplied. Enormously. Seventy times seven. Four hundred and ninety. More times than a person would ever spend the energy to track. Then he launched into an explanation by way of a parable about money that had nothing to do with finances and everything to do with what’s in the heart.
A man once owed a king ten thousand bags of gold, but found himself unable to pay. The king, desiring to recoup his money, called the man before him, only to learn he was overextended and remained unable to repay the loan. As was the normal process of the time, it was ordered that the man and his entire family be sold to pay his debt. In great distress at the pronouncement, the man fell to his knees, begging for mercy. If he could just be given time to make some adjustments, he could repay everything. Surprisingly, the king capitulated. In a moment of amazing compassion and enormous mercy, the gracious king chose to cancel the debt entirely, allowing the man and his family to go free.
Joyously tripping away from the confrontation, the man left the king’s presence only to go out and confront a man who owed him one hundred silver coins, a mere fraction of the debt he’d just had dissolved. Grabbing the man by the throat, he raged at him to pay what he owed. Right here. Right now. Cough it up! Like the first man, this one couldn’t pay, either. He needed time. In a nearly mirror image to the man who had just received grace, the second man fell to his knees and begged for mercy. Unfortunately, he wasn’t kneeling before the king whose heart was full of grace and compassion. No. He was begging a man whose heart was full of rage and greed. Rather than extend the same forgiveness he had received, the dark-hearted man called for the debtor to be thrown in prison until he could pay every last cent.
Appalled by the course of events, nearby workers carried the story of injustice back to the king. He was not amused. His mercy had been flouted. His forgiveness taken for granted. Calling the original debtor back before him, he required a full account for his actions. There was no excuse. As a recipient of mercy, he should have extended mercy in return. His failure rained misery on his own head. His debt was reinstated. He was turned over to the jailers until he could pay everything he owed in full. Then Jesus tacked an ominous warning to the end of His parable. This type of treatment should be expected by all those who refuse to forgive others in the same way God forgives them. From their hearts. The parable about money wasn’t actually about money. It was about what’s in your heart. (Matthew 18:21-35)
Ananias and Sapphira could have learned something from the underlying message of Jesus’ parable. Not about forgiveness. About how what is in your heart leaks out through your life. How what you love most controls your thoughts and decisions. How your heart needs to focus on something besides money. At a time when the believers were of one heart and mind and sharing their possessions and finances, some chose to sell property and donate the proceeds for use among the community of believers. It wasn’t a rule. No one was under compulsion to sell or donate. Nor does it appear to have been an expectation. No record indicates Peter was preaching the sale and donation as a prerequisite of Heaven. It was simply a choice some people were making. The givers were not promised better seating, higher standing, or greater authority in the congregation. There is no indication of any perks accompanying the generosity. Except in the minds of Ananias and Sapphira.
In what can only be explained as a quest to gain the alleged status and accolades for themselves, Ananias and Sapphira chose to sell a piece of property. It was a cash sale. The smooth coolness of the coins felt so good in their hands. The weight in their pockets reminded them of all that could be done with the amount. As they hunkered over their kitchen table stacking and recounting the small fortune before them, their hearts turned toward the things they loved most. The things that filled their hearts. Money. They loved it. They wanted it. They also loved status and accolades. They wanted both. Wanted to be perceived as people of means who gave heavily to the Christian community. More concerned with the perception of their peers than being honest before God, they concocted a plan to trick everyone. Including God.
Why they believed they could trick God remains a mystery. It wasn’t something they would have heard from the lips of the apostles. They didn’t get it from Sunday school or church. The Bible study leaders never taught the concept. The only place it could have originated is the darkness of their sin-filled hearts. Talking in hushed tones, they plotted and planned. How much to give. How much to keep. What lie to tell Peter yet still attain the status they desired. How to look good, seem holy. Appear as wealthy benefactors. Gracious donors. They also decided Ananias should go alone to make their donation. And so he did.
Gathering their chosen allotment together, Ananias traveled to where the apostles were gathered and laid the portion at their feet, declaring it the entire amount. Immediately Peter knew he was lying. Maybe Ananias faltered on the verbiage. Perhaps his gaze shifted to the left as he spoke. Maybe he seemed nervous, antsy. More likely, God gave Peter the discernment to know a lie when he saw one. Calling Ananias out, Peter incredulously questioned the purpose of the deception. Why would he attempt such a thing? They were under no compulsion to sell the property at all. Once sold, there was no law or rule or obligation to donate the money to the church. The choices they made were theirs and theirs alone. They chose to sell. They chose to divide the funds. They chose to lie. To the apostles. To Peter. To God.
Both Ananias and Sapphira would pay the ultimate price for that lie. Their sin would cause their demise right there at the apostles’ feet. First Ananias. Then Sapphira. The things their hearts loved the most were their undoing. They sacrificed everything to gain nothing. Died for a lie they didn’t even have to tell. Because their deceitful hearts loved money and status more than anything, valued them above everything, even honesty before the God who knows every secret of the human heart. (Acts 5:1-11 Mark 2:8; I Samuel 16:7; Luke 16:15)
Perhaps you haven’t noticed it before, but neither of these lessons is about money. We read them and get all wrapped up in the money and numbers. We think they are about our bank balances and the donation line on our tax documents. They aren’t. At all. They are about your heart. What’s there? What isn’t. What should be. The lessons aren’t about the size of the house you inhabit. The type of car you drive. The number of zeroes in your paycheck. The balance in your mutual funds or the amount you donated to charity last year. Those things are all earthly. They stay here. The point of every one of these events is that the desires of your heart, the emphasis you put on money or things or status or self, will draw you away from Jesus Christ. You won’t follow Him as hard as you should. You won’t spend as much time with Him as you could. Your focus on earthly things will cost you eternal treasures. It’s the message in both of these lessons. And it’s not about the money at all. (James 1:13-15)
In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus speaks another parable to a man who was desperate to make his brother share the inheritance with him. He tells of a man who has done very well for himself, to the point he has nowhere to store his wealth and must build larger spaces to hold it. Lulled to spiritual complacency by his store of earthly goods, the man forgets that God is the Giver and Sustainer of life. With or without the money, God is sovereign. His life and times are in God’s hands. So focused on the earthly things his heart loves, he finds himself rich on earth but bankrupt in eternity. Again, the parable isn’t about money, it’s about the content of your heart. (Luke 12:13-21; Psalm 31:14-15; Hebrews 1:3; Psalm 139:14)
You see, friend, there is nothing more important than what is in your heart. What you love. What you hate. What you eschew. What you condone. The things that inhabit your heart affect every part of your life. They show when you think they don’t. They impact your decisions, your actions, your words. They choose your eternity. So check your heart. Know what’s there. Earthly accounts or eternal savings. Then seek the things that are above, the things not of this world. Seek the things of Heaven. Chase down the things of God. Follow hard after Him. Know that the wealth of your eternal treasure chest is worth more than the numbers in your earthly portfolio. Because it’s not about the money. It’s about your heart. (Matthew 6:19-20, 33; Luke 6:45; Proverbs 4:23; Psalm 63:8)