Sermon for the 11th Sunday of Matthew

Matthew 18:23-35

A servant is brought before the king owing ten thousand talents. A labourer in that world earned one denarius for a day of work. A single talent was six thousand denarii. So this man owes sixty million days of labour. It is not a large debt. It is an impossible one.

He falls on his knees and asks for time. “Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.” He still thinks he can settle it himself.

The king does not give him time. He gives him release. The whole debt cancelled. Not reduced. Gone.

Then the man walks out and finds a fellow servant who owes him a hundred denarii. He takes him by the throat. The other begs him in the very words he himself had used an hour before. He refuses, and has him thrown into prison.

How could he? Because the moment he was outside, he began to compare. He looked at his fellow servant and saw a man beneath him. A debtor. Someone who had failed. He had just been lifted out of an abyss, and instead of falling on his face in thanksgiving, he started measuring.

That is what pride does. It cannot see a brother. It sees a rival or a lesser man. Pride sets us beside everybody we meet and asks who stands higher, and the answer we give ourselves is always the same. So we lift ourselves up, we grow hard, and in the end we destroy ourselves, because a heart clenched around a grudge has no room left for God.

Our Lord gave us the picture for this. “Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?” We are experts on the faults of other people. We know exactly where our neighbour has gone wrong, and we are often right. But we cannot see the log. Not because it is hidden. Because we are looking outward instead of inward.

The unforgiving servant knew the exact size of the hundred denarii. He had no idea of the size of the ten thousand talents.

Now hold on to this. God’s mercy has no limit. There is no sin He will not forgive.

But it does not fall on us while we stand still. The servant was released when he came and fell on his knees. He had to turn, and approach, and ask. That is repentance. Not grovelling, and not a payment. It is turning round and walking back towards Him. He forces His mercy on nobody. He waits.

And our capacity to receive it is bound up with our willingness to pass it on. Not because God is keeping score. Because a closed hand cannot receive. Repentance opens the hand towards God. Forgiving our brother keeps it open. If we will not let go of what we hold against someone, we have nothing free to take hold of what He offers.

And what He offers is paradise. Not a lighter sentence. To be with Him. That is what the servant carried out of the room and never understood.

Be clear about what forgiveness is not. It is not pretending the wrong never happened. The king does not tell the servant the debt was imaginary. He absorbs it and carries the loss himself. Nor is forgiveness the same as restoring trust. If someone has harmed you, you may forgive them and still be right to keep a distance. You are not failing at the one by doing the other.

Forgiveness is the decision to stop holding the debt. To stop presenting the bill. To let it go unpaid and carry the loss yourself, because that is exactly what was done for you.

We say it every day and barely hear it. Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. We are asking God to deal with us exactly as we deal with one another.

So do not go looking for the speck today. Think of one person you have been holding to account, and let the debt go. You cannot afford to keep it.

Amen.