The Challenge of Forgiveness - Sermon for Pentecost 16A (Matthew 18:21-35)
This past Friday, the nation observed the twenty-fifth anniversary of the attacks of 9-11. It’s likely that if you are over forty, you will remember, perhaps vividly, where you were when you first heard the news. I remember that day very clearly. I was living on the West Coast in Santa Barbara. Like most Tuesday mornings, I joined three men from the church for breakfast at a restaurant just around the corner from the parsonage. When I returned to the house before heading next door to the office, I checked the news on the TV just as a plane hit the second Twin Tower in New York. I remember standing there in shock. Later that morning, my United Methodist colleague stopped by the office. Since I was president of the local interfaith clergy association, LLoyd wanted to discuss how the faith community could respond to this tragedy. Lloyd offered his church as the site for a service on the Sunday evening following. Then Lloyd and I began reaching out to our colleagues in preparation for the service, which featured a Rabbi, an Imam, and the hospital’s director of spiritual care, as the primary speakers. When we gathered Sunday evening, the sanctuary was overflowing with people who felt the need to gather in support of each other. They wanted to hear a word of compassion and hope, even as others called for vengeance. Someone had to pay, and it didn’t matter who it was. The desire for vengeance is a powerful emotion, but is it a satisfying one? Might Jesus offer us a better way?
Recently Brett and I watched The Count of Monte Cristo mini-series. The central character in Andre Dumas’ story is a sailor named Edmund Dantes, who was imprisoned based on false accusations by people he thought were his friends. After his escape and subsequent discovery of a secret treasure, he began plotting his revenge on those who harmed him. Not only could he not forget, but he also would not forgive. He got his revenge, but it doesn’t seem as if vengeance was as satisfying as he had hoped.
In the reading from Genesis 50, we find Joseph meeting with his brothers who had sold him into slavery. In this part of the story, Joseph’s brothers were concerned that he might still bear a grudge against them. So, they told Joseph that their father wanted him to forgive them for their crimes. Fortunately for them, Joseph was willing to forgive. He told them that what they intended as harm, God used to preserve the people (Gen. 50:15-21). Joseph seems to have seen the bigger picture, which allowed him to reconcile with his brothers. In other words, he understood that vengeance wouldn’t be a satisfying way of gaining closure.
Turning to our reading from Matthew’s Gospel, we find Peter asking a question about how often a person should forgive someone in the community who harmed them. Peter seems to have been in a generous mood because he asked if seven times was sufficient. What he wanted to know was how far he should go in pursuit of reconciliation when relationships are broken.
Jesus’ answer surprised Peter because he thought seven was a generous number. But Jesus stretched the number to seventy-seven times, which seems like a rather large number. In fact, it’s so large you will lose count before you reach it.
I’m not surprised that Jesus’ answer startled Peter. It would startle me. When I think about the times people have harmed me, or the times I’ve harmed others, it seems like there should be an upper limit on the number of times we have to forgive each other. Even seven seems rather generous. Nevertheless, Jesus seems to be telling us that we shouldn’t keep count of the number of times we forgive someone.
As Jesus often did, he expanded on his answer with a parable. This parable speaks of a person who doesn’t seem to understand the relationship between being forgiven and forgiving others. This particular parable features a king who decides to settle accounts with his slaves. One of these slaves owes the king 10,000 talents. According to the going exchange rate of that time, this is a lot of money. In fact, it’s as high as ancient accounting methods could go. Therefore, this debt would have been greater than the slave could have ever repaid. Jesus doesn’t tell us how he got so in debt, but this slave who owed an unpayable debt begged for leniency after the king ordered that he and his family, along with all his possessions, should be sold to pay off the debt. Surprisingly, the king had mercy on the slave and completely forgave this huge debt. Just think about it: This slave no longer had to worry about those pesky IRS letters or government agents knocking on the door. Life was good!
Now, you would think this slave, who had been forgiven such a large debt, would pay it forward and treat people who owed him money with the same generosity of spirit. Unfortunately, that’s not how things went. As this slave left the palace, jumping for joy at his newfound lease on life, he ran into another slave who owed him a significant but payable debt. Instead of offering to forgive his debt out of gratitude for having his own debt forgiven, he ran up to the slave, grabbed him by the throat, and demanded immediate repayment of the debt or end up in prison. Even though the second slave asked for the same leniency that the forgiven slave had asked for and received, the first slave who had been forgiven a great sum failed to understand how blessed he was and responded by having the second slave thrown into prison.
Unsurprisingly, this action didn’t sit well with the forgiven slave’s colleagues, who reported what had happened to the king. The king, who had been so generous in forgiving the first slave’s debt, was incensed. The king responded by throwing the slave he had just forgiven into prison, where he was tortured. Jesus concludes this story by telling his audience that they would suffer the same fate if they failed to forgive their spiritual siblings from their heart.
I don’t know about you, but I find the closing statement a bit disconcerting. Didn’t Jesus tell us that we should forgive each other seventy-seven times? Won’t God do the same? Won’t God’s compassion be sufficient to cover every misdeed? Or is God some kind of tyrant that will judge us harshly if we don’t do the right thing?
That is the way many interpret the parable, but I think we need to start with Jesus’ statement about forgiveness, which is the foundation for our relationships with God and with one another. When I read a story like this, my tendency is to turn to 2 Corinthians 5, where Paul writes that God was in Christ reconciling the world to God’s self. Everything starts there. Our ability to forgive others is rooted in God’s decision to bring healing to the broken relationships that exist within our world. Laurie Brink, a Dominican sister and New Testament professor, writes that “In Christian reconciliation, repentance and forgiveness do not precede reconciliation but emerge from it” [Practicing Radical Advent, p. 110]. So, in this parable, forgiveness seems to be the starting point, but surely the king’s ability to forgive is rooted in a prior desire for reconciliation. What the forgiven slave didn’t seem to understand was that he had been given a gift that was meant to be shared with others. As Paul told his readers, even as God reconciled the world through Christ, God’s people are called to be ambassadors of reconciliation. So, even though Jesus teaches us to pray, “forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Matt. 6:12), in this story the forgiveness of our debts is the starting place for our ability to forgive others.
Events like 9-11 can produce anger and a desire for vengeance. We hear calls to never forget, which is understandable, especially when there are still debts of different kinds that remain unpaid. Nevertheless, as followers of Jesus, we begin the journey knowing that God has already forgiven our debts, which allows us to forgive the debts of others. Because of what God has done through Jesus, the Spirit of God enables us not only to love our neighbors but, as Jesus told his audience, our enemies as well. As Jesus told those who gathered to hear his Sermon on the Mount:
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be children of your Father in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. 46 For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47 And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the gentiles do the same? 48 Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matt. 5:44-48).
When Jesus tells us to be perfect as God is perfect, he doesn’t mean God expects us to live mistake-free lives. Rather, because God has already acted in history to bring about reconciliation with us in Christ, God does expect us to continue moving toward full spiritual maturity, so that we can better represent Jesus to the world as ambassadors of reconciliation.
Preached by:
Dr. Robert D. Cornwall
Pulpit Supply
First Presbyterian Church (PCUSA)
Troy, MI
Pentecost 16A
September 13, 2026
Comments