Is There a Limit to Forgiveness?

17th Sunday after Pentecost, 10/5/14
Matthew 18:21-35


Is There a Limit to Forgiveness?
I. Yes, if you don’t know God’s grace.
II. No, if you know God’s grace.


Have you ever thought about how many limits there are in your life every day?

That sign on the road doesn’t post a speed suggestion; it’s a speed limit.

Advertisers love to use special deals to hook you in, but there’s a limit—one per customer, while supplies last, excluding black-out dates, must call before midnight, for a limited time only.

You set your own limits as well. You might call them boundaries. You will take just so much disrespectful treatment, and that’s it. Then there will be consequences. You try to observe limits on how much you eat. And then there’s the way we spend money. We know we should observe the limits we’ve set for ourselves, but it seems like such a good deal or we convince ourselves we simply have to have it now and our limit gets blown up once again.

Would it surprise you to know that your God has limits, too? Probably not. It’s only reasonable. In his word he doesn’t always use the word “limit”, but that’s certainly what he is talking about. More than once he spoke about how a heathen nation’s wickedness had not yet reached its limit. Therefore he was going to be patient to see if it would heed his call to repent.

In today’s gospel we hear about another limit—a limit on forgiveness. Is there a point at which God no longer forgives? Is there a point at which he doesn’t expect us to forgive others? Is there a limit on forgiveness? Let’s ask ourselves that question. The answers we find may surprise you.

Part I.

I am over-insured? Am I saving enough for retirement? Should I continue putting money into repairs on my current vehicle or should I purchase something else? Is my compensation in line with my responsibilities and the amount of work I do? Those are examples of reasonable questions. We ask ourselves those questions repeatedly in life. The answers to those questions can have a profound impact on our lives.

Another reasonable question is in the very first verse of this morning’s text. “Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, ‘Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?’” Don’t get the wrong impression. Peter didn’t ask this question out of the blue. In one way or another this entire chapter of Matthew’s gospel deals with the subject of sinning and forgiveness. It started with Jesus using a little child as an object lesson. He called for people to have a childlike faith in him and woe to the person who would cause one of these little ones to sin and, in doing so, damage the child’s faith. Immediately after that Jesus spoke The Parable of the Lost Sheep in which the shepherd leaves his 99 sheep and seeks the one that’s lost. Our God is concerned about every sinner. And third, as we heard in last week’s gospel, Jesus tells us that we have the responsibility to point out another person’s sins in a loving way and call them to repentance.

Then comes Peter’s question—a reasonable one at that. So, our brother sins against us, we rebuke him, he repents and we forgive him. How many times should I do that? Surely Jesus didn’t intend for this to be a never-ending cycle, did he? So, give us some practical advice, Jesus. How many times should I forgive him?

Peter even offers Jesus a suggestion. Up to seven times? Peter probably didn’t pull that number out of thin air. The common opinion among the Jewish rabbis down through the ages stated that three times was the limit. That’s all they required. Peter doubles that number and adds one for good measure. Peter must have thought, “I’m going well beyond what anyone would expect. I’m showing myself to be a forgiving person, but surely there’s a limit.”

Jesus then launched into the Parable of the Unmerciful Servant. He owed the king 10,000 talents. It’s difficult to estimate the exact value, but that’s millions and millions of dollars. This man was probably not a household servant, but a government official or a vassal of the king. When the king ordered him thrown into prison and his family members sold, he begged him, “Be patient with me and I will pay back everything.” The king wasn’t stupid. There’s no way this man could ever begin to pay it all back. So he forgave the debt. Imagine how grateful you’d be if such a thing happened to you!

But there was no gratitude for what the king had done in the heart of this wicked servant. He finds a fellow servant who owed him a few dollars. When that servant can’t repay him right then and there, he had him thrown in prison. Despicable! But that’s what happens when you don’t appreciate(are you ready for a critically important word?) grace.

Is there a limit on forgiveness? Yes, when you don’t know God’s grace.

At first we may claim that we’d never do such a thing, but a little self-reflection just might reveal that we have, even more than once. We want to set a limit. When we’ve been hurt by someone else, when they have taken advantage of us, when they have violated our trust, we recoil at the thought of truly forgiving them. And we justify it by claiming it’s a defense mechanism. We’re not going to let that happen again. To make sure it doesn’t happen, we limit our forgiveness. We refuse to forgive that person’s small debt of sin. And all the while, we conveniently forget the huge debt of sin that our God has forgiven us. Is there a limit to forgiveness? Yes, when you don’t know God’s grace, or, in our case—when you forget God’s grace. But that’s a wicked position to take and these are our Savior’s harsh words for such people, “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart.”

Part II.

I wonder if Peter remembered his question and the parable that Jesus spoke on the night before Jesus’ death. Remember what happened that night? Jesus had warned Peter that he would not stand up for Jesus and defend him. Rather, he would deny that he even knew Jesus not once, but three times. I wonder if Peter felt that there must be a limit to forgiveness for the terrible sins of denying Jesus.

I’m sure Peter wondered if he was still fit to be an apostle. After all, shouldn’t an apostle be one who stands up for the Lord Jesus in any and every circumstance? Peter had been warned by Jesus that he would be tempted to deny him and he still wilted under the slightest pressure. If Peter had failed when confronted by a servant-girl in the courtyard of the high priest, what would happen when deadly pressure would be applied by people with real power?

But recall what Jesus did. After his resurrection, Jesus appeared to Peter by the lake where he had been fishing. Three times Jesus asked Peter, “Do you love me?” and three times Peter answered, “You know I love you.” And three times Jesus replied, “Feed my lambs. Feed my sheep.” That was Jesus’ way of assuring Peter that he had forgiven Peter for denying him. That was Jesus’ way of restoring him to his position as one of his apostles. That was Jesus’ way of assuring Peter that his love had removed all of sin’s barriers between them.

Of course that what he did, because that’s what our King does. He takes our debt of countless sins (and I don’t think millions and millions of them would be an exaggeration) and he forgives them. He cancels our debt. He sets us free. He does so even for our pet sins—the ones that we so easily commit day after day after day—our worry, our lust, our discontent, our critical attitude, our manipulations.

And the good news is that whenever we come to him with a repentant heart for those sins—even if they’re the same ones we confessed to him yesterday and the day before—he cancels our debt, he sends our sins away, he washes us clean. Every time. No limit. As a child of God with faith in Jesus you never need to fear that this time you’ve hit the limit on God’s forgiveness. You never need to fear that he will reply, “Away from me! How dare you beg me for forgiveness?” Instead, since you are his own dear child, he begs you to come to him for forgiveness. It’s his very nature and essence to extend his forgiveness to you because he is merciful, gracious and loving.

Is there a limit to forgiveness? No, if you know God’s grace.

In a minute we’re going to pray as we have prayed thousands and thousands of times, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” And he does. God’s boundless love for you which he displayed on a wooden cross punched into a scull-shaped hill called Calvary moves him to forgive your trespasses—fully and freely. That’s what he wants to do with all his heart. But don’t overlook the second half of that petition. “As we forgive those who trespass against us.” When a repentant sinner stands before us and proclaims. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” the forgiveness our God has shown us moves us to forgive others. Every time. Because God’s forgiveness has no limits. By grace we know that. May we always show it. Amen.