How it must grieve our Lord when we forget His past victories in our lives, all His miracles of deliverance. He has called us His friends (see John 15:15), yet in our crises we often forget all about His faithful friendship. This is why Jesus warned the disciples about the leaven of the Pharisees (in Mark 8). He told them, in essence, “If you come to Me with hard questions, don’t expect Me to answer if you have a heart of unbelief. You’re to come to Me with trust and faith, believing I am One greater than Solomon.”

The devil’s threat to the Church today goes beyond the flood of filth being poured out on the earth. It’s beyond materialism, addictions or intense seductions. Our battle is one of faith. The more you set your heart to seek Jesus, the more vicious Satan’s attack on your faith becomes.

In recent months, I’ve heard confessions from godly saints who speak of awful attacks on their minds. They’re plagued by arrows of doubt and nagging questions about God’s faithfulness. Many are just staggering onward, wavering in their faith, thinking, “I don’t know if I can go on.”

In Mark 4:2 we are told, “And [Jesus] taught them many things by parables.” Imagine what happened with the majority of that crowd after they went home. Neighbors crowded around them, anxious to know what Jesus had said: “What message did He bring? Tell us all you learned.” Those who had heard Him might have been able to repeat His parables but their words would have been dead, lifeless, with no impact or life-changing power.

“For [the Queen of Sheba] came from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon; and, behold, a greater than Solomon is here” (Matthew 12:42).

We all have to answer one crucial question today: If One greater than Solomon is in our midst, would He possibly leave us in confusion? If His wisdom is always available, do we seek for it as passionately as the queen sought Solomon’s wisdom?

I wonder how many Christians reading this message right now are in a cloud of confusion. Does this describe you? Perhaps your prayers go unanswered. You’re constantly downcast. You face things in your life that you can’t explain. You’re disappointed in your circumstances and in people. You continually doubt yourself, you’re plagued with questions, and you constantly examine your heart to see where you went wrong. You feel gloom, despair, indecision—and you can’t shake any of it.

“Walk while ye have the light, lest darkness come upon you” (John 12:35). Darkness here means “spiritual blindness, confusion, loss of clarity, gloom.” At first, I wondered, “Darkness on those who love Jesus? How could such darkness come upon God’s people?”

We must take to heart this word from Christ’s parable: “O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt. . . . Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellowservant, even as I had pity on thee?” (Matthew 18:32-33).

The question for every Christian is this: “Do I forgive my brethren? Do I put up with their differences?” If I refuse to love and forgive them, even as I have been forgiven, Jesus calls me a “wicked servant.”

What is behind judgmental strife? Why do servants of God, who have been forgiven so much personally, mistreat their brethren and refuse to fellowship with them? It can be traced back to the most grievous sin possible: despising the goodness of God.

I came to this conclusion only as I searched my own heart for the answer. I recalled my personal struggle to accept God’s mercy and goodness toward me. For years, I had lived and preached under a legalistic bondage. I tried hard to live up to standards that I thought led to holiness. But it was mostly just a list of dos and don’ts.

“Despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and longsuffering: not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?” (Romans 2:4).

What does Paul mean when he says this person despises the riches of Christ’s goodness? The word for despised here means, “He could not think it possible.” In other words, this believer said, “Such grace and mercy isn’t possible. I can’t fathom it.” It didn’t fit into his theology. So, instead of accepting it, he set his mind against it.

In the parable of Matthew 18:23-35 did the king overlook his servant’s sin? Did he wink at his debt and merely excuse it? No, not at all. The fact is, by forgiving him, the king placed upon this man a weighty responsibility, a responsibility even greater than the burden of his debt. Indeed, this servant now owed his master more than ever. How? He was responsible to forgive and love others, just as the king had done for him.