Luke 12:57-59

"And why do you not judge for yourselves what is right? As you go with your accuser before the magistrate, make an effort to settle with him on the way, lest he drag you to the judge, and the judge hand you over to the officer, and the officer put you in prison. I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the very last penny."

On the surface, Jesus poses a rhetorical question: "Why do you not judge for yourselves what is right?"

When I think about my own use of language and how I say the things I say, and I then think about how Jesus posed this question, I get the feeling that he's sort of trying to express his frustration with the disciples, and the crowd's inability to grasp just exactly what Grace is truly all about. For example, two people can express two different opinions about faith and justification by Grace. Two people can express two different ideas about justification by faith alone. One can say that faith by which they are justified is a gift from God. And the other could say "yes I am justified by faith alone, but faith is something I did". Saying essentially that the act of faith is a work of salvation.

Jesus exasperation with the crowd (and his disciples) is almost a challenge for them to stop overcomplicating things. He’s not spoon-feeding them a rulebook; he’s pushing them to internalize the truth they’ve already been shown. The truth isn't difficult to understand but it gets difficult to live with when mankind gets their hands on it.

As the great movie line goes, "you can't handle the truth". And humanity has indeed proved that to be true.

The disciples, even after all they’ve seen, keep stumbling over legalistic tendencies or missing the radical simplicity of what Jesus is offering. One says, “Faith is a gift from God—I’m justified because He gave it to me.” The other says, “I’m justified by faith alone, but I had to muster it up myself.” The second view subtly turns faith into a work, a flex of personal effort, which starts to smell like the very thing grace undoes.

Is our salvation fully of God or is it by means of some contribution of our own?

What's really at play here in this question is are we denying mankind's utter sinfulness, and helplessness. As the Armenians did denying man's utter helplessness and sinfulness.

Jesus’ words in Luke 12:57-59 don’t explicitly spell out a doctrine of salvation, but they do hint at a posture. The urgency to settle with the accuser "on the way" suggests we’re not in control once judgment kicks in. You’re stuck paying "the very last penny" unless something intervenes. For me, that intervention is grace, unearned and initiated by God.

The classic Reformed view, (think Calvin or Augustine), says it’s all God, top to bottom. And I myself having lived a long time now am very convinced by the obvious evidence of human depravity. The longer I live the more the evidence piles on.

Sola Gratia

Ephesians 2:8-9 is an immediate go-to for me.

"For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast."

And while we're here visiting this doctrine of grace, we must recognize that the twin doctrines of original sin and election are also related closely to this idea of grace alone by faith. It’s not just that we sin; we’re sinners by nature, helpless from the jump. That’s the "utter sinfulness and helplessness". And so, if we’re that far gone, no amount of grit or good deeds can bridge the gap. Grace has to do the heavy lifting for us, and Ephesians 2 says it does—100% of it. Jesus does that heavy lifting for us. And at the same time if grace is all God’s doing, He’s the one picking who gets it, he's the judge.

Romans 9:15-16 explains this:

"I will have mercy on whom I have mercy…it does not depend on human will or exertion, but on God, who has mercy."

Election doubles down on Sola Gratia, not only is salvation unearned, but God’s sovereign choice decides where it lands. And here's where it ties back to Luke 12:57-59, it’s like Jesus is saying, "You can’t pay the debt, so stop pretending you can settle it yourself." The accuser’s dragging you to court, and your pockets are empty, grace is your only out.

So this parable about the debtor's inability to save himself speaks to the moral bankruptcy of all humanity. The guy’s got no leverage, no cash, and no way to dodge the consequences once the gavel drops. We’re all that debtor, spiritually overdrawn, facing a debt we can’t pay. In bondage to sin. It’s spiritual death, a moral impotence. No moral inclination or desires for the things of God. Even after conversion, even with the help of divine grace, our best works, as Augustine said, are "splendid vices". Because sin is so completely damaging that it attaches itself to us even after conversion until we are finally at home with Jesus, glorified by God in Him in heaven.

The debtor’s total lack of leverage in Luke 12:57-59 is such a vivid snapshot of our spiritual reality.

Romans 8:7 backs this up with the hard truth:

"The mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot."

We’re not just struggling; we’re incapable. Even after grace cracks us open, sin’s still got its claws in us. Our best shots at righteousness are tainted, streaked with self-interest and pride. Isaiah 64:6 calls our righteous deeds "filthy rags", not exactly a glowing review about the human condition.

Here's the thing ALL Christians need to understand. Conversion doesn’t make us sin-proof; it starts the fight, but we’re still dragging that old nature around until glorification. Yes! The answer is Christ, but the struggle’s real until we’re home.

The parable’s debtor mirrors that perfectly. He’s got no bargaining power, and even if he tried, what’s he offering? His pockets are empty. That’s us, pre- and post-conversion, completely bankrupt without grace. Jesus’ push to settle "on the way" should be more like, "settle in the way". It isn’t about us finding a workaround; it’s about us recognizing the Rescuer walking right there beside us.

Only glorification, when we’re finally with Jesus, remade fully in into his image, burns it off for good in the cleansing refining fire.

The parable’s not just a warning; it’s a diagnosis. And Augustine’s lens makes it sting even more: our "splendid vices" show how sin’s wreckage lingers. And some unfortunately cling to that wreckage as if their self-righteousness has the power to save them from drowning in its own dark waters of sin. People are clutching the wreckage of self-righteousness like it’s a lifeboat, when really, it’s the anchor pulling them under. The debtor who won’t settle "on the way" might be the guy delusional enough to think he can talk his way out of court or pay off the debt with Monopoly money. It’s a fantasy, and billions of spiritual people are caught up in it.

This is where self-righteousness gets so insidious. It’s not just ignorance; it’s a rejection of the diagnosis.

Romans 10:3 nails it:

"For, being ignorant of the righteousness of God, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness."

They’re blind to their own bankruptcy, betting on a moral credit score that doesn’t exist. But some cling anyway, as if their DIY virtue’s got buoyancy.

Without Christ, the whole ship sinks. We can try and dress up our works like they’re earning us extra grace points, but it's, as Paul said,

"the righteousness from God that depends on faith" that saves us (Philippians 3:9).

Jesus’ frustration in the parable might be aimed at this exact desperate clinging to our own wreckage, people who’d rather hug the debris than grab the lifeline. It’s tragic, but it's humanity.

If you were hoping for a happy ending to this devotion, we'd better follow Jesus and "make an effort to settle with him on the way".