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Matthew 18:21-35 New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition

²¹ Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if my brother or sister sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” ²² Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.

²³ “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. ²⁴ When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him, ²⁵ and, as he could not pay, the lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions and payment to be made. ²⁶ So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ ²⁷ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. ²⁸ But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him by the throat he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ ²⁹ Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ ³⁰ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. ³¹ When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. ³² Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. ³³ Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ ³⁴ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. ³⁵ So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

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Please pray with me:

Holy One, we bring into your presence the fullness of who we are. Our pain. Our regrets. Our murky and messy parts. We have been wounded and we have wounded others. With courage and humility, we seek your guidance in the mending of the brokenness within us and between us. Amen

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Today in our scripture, Peter comes to Jesus with what sounds like a very reasonable question. He asked how many times should he forgive another when they do him wrong. Peter wants a number. A limit. A boundary around mercy. Jesus’ answer likely confounded Peter. Not seven, but seventy-seven times. 

In the Hebrew scriptures that Jesus knew so well, in the Book of Genesis, Chapter 4, Verse 24, Lamech, a descendant of Cain, boasts that if Cain is avenged sevenfold, then he will be avenged seventy-sevenfold. Jesus takes that language and turns it upside down. Seventy-seven times: instead of vengeance without end, Jesus teaches forgiveness without end. 

To help Peter—and us—envision this, Jesus tells this parable about two debts. The first debt is unimaginably large. A talent was the equivalent of many years’ worth of wages. Ten thousand talents was a debt that could never be repaid. It is an absurd, impossible amount of money. A lifetime—or many lifetimes—of labor could never settle the account. And the king simply releases it. The debt is forgiven. Then that same person encounters someone who owes him a much smaller amount. And instead of extending the mercy he has just received, he grabs the person by the throat and demands payment.

This is a story about hypocrisy. It is a story about what happens when we forget that we ourselves are living on grace. The author of the Salt+ Project blog summarizes it this way: “Here is the conundrum: Jesus endorses continual mercy (‘seventy-seven times!’), but the king seems to have a ‘two strikes and you’re out’ policy. But this is a parable, after all, and parables are meant to be understood poetically — and the poetic heart of this one is the glaring contradiction between the servant’s fervent desire to be forgiven and his stinginess in offering forgiveness to others.”

Most of us know multiple sides of this story. We have been hurt. And we have hurt people. We have needed forgiveness. We have granted forgiveness. We have withheld forgiveness. We have received generosity we did not earn, and then we have turned around and insisted that someone else earn what we were so freely given. Jesus invites us to break that cycle.

Jesus is inviting Peter—and us—out of the whole idea of counting, of keeping track, of keeping score. But there is an important caveat, especially in communities committed to justice and liberation. Forgiveness is not pretending nothing happened. Forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation. Forgiveness does not immediately restore trust. And forgiveness certainly does not mean remaining in an abusive or destructive situation.

Accountability is an important part of forgiveness. Because Jesus' vision is for communities where harm is met with truth, mercy, and justice rather than endless retaliation. Just before this passage, Jesus has been teaching his disciples how to confront conflict directly and wisely. Speak honestly. Listen. Bring others in when necessary. Take harm seriously. So when Peter asks, “How many times do I have to forgive?” Jesus isn't telling him to tolerate unlimited harm. He is asking him to imagine a different kind of community. To imagine communities and families where we do not keep score. Imagine communities and families where forgiveness does not erase accountability but makes change possible.

I will offer one more analogy from the salt+ project blog: Elizabeth Myer Boulton writes: “It’s almost as if, when we’re merciful (or by contrast, when we’re stingy, or vengeful, or what have you), we create a kind of micro-climate around us, within which the people we interact with experience mercy (or stinginess, or vengeance, or what have you). But lo and behold, we, too, end up having to live in that very climate. If it’s an atmosphere full of mercy, we’ll experience mercy. If it’s full of judgment, we’ll experience judgment. Forgiveness, it turns out, is an environmental issue: the world we make is the world we’ll inhabit.”

When we are open to learning, Jesus’ parables can enlighten our world-view. This parable is leading us into creating a world that promises peace and justice for all. But first we need some clarification on the last few verses we heard today. 

³³ Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ ³⁴ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. ³⁵ So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

What about the parable? What about forgiving seventy-seven times? 

We hold multiple truths in tension. God’s graciousness and forgiveness is never-ending but so is God’s promise to provide “vindication and justice for all who are oppressed.” (Psalm 103:6)

Both / and. Alongside God’s extravagant grace we must hold space for God’s extravagant justice. God asks us to see mercilessness for what it is. God calls us toward the mending of what is broken. Toward the redistribution of what has been hoarded. Toward the disruption of systems that exploit human beings and diminish the lives of our neighbors. When we improve the lives of the oppressed, we improve all of our lives. When we practice mercy, we all benefit.

And so let us ask a different question. Instead of, “How many times must we forgive?” let us ask, “How should we live?” 

Do we live as people who multiply harm? Or people who multiply mercy? Are we becoming people who cling tightly to what we believe others owe us? Or people who recognize that our own lives are gifts we did not earn? Do we live as communities, families, individuals that hide their wounds? Or as communities, families, individuals that are courageous enough to tell the truth, make amends, set boundaries, seek justice, and keep believing in redemption? What makes a community, a family, or an individual loving is not their perfection. We will ALL make mistakes. We will hurt one another. We will misunderstand one another. We will sometimes fail to live up to the people we hope to be. What makes us loving is what we do next. We tell the truth. We listen. We take responsibility. We make reparations where we can. We protect those who are vulnerable. We change the patterns that caused harm.

My prayer for myself—and for all of us—is that we remember that we are all, somehow, miraculously, standing inside a mercy larger than anything we could ever repay. 

So may we leave here not keeping the score, but keeping the faith. May we have faith that mercy can be learned. May we have faith that accountability can lead to transformation. Faith that relationships can sometimes be repaired—and when they cannot, that healing is still possible. Faith that the systems and structures that seem immovable can change. Faith that none of us is beyond the reach of God's redeeming love.

We are all invited to: receive mercy, practice mercy, seek justice, tell the truth, and make room for one another to become more fully who God calls us to be.

May we be that kind of people. May we be that kind of church. And may the mercy we have received become, through us, mercy made visible in the world.

Amen

Rev. TJ Mack – Union Congregational Church of Hancock – September 13, 2026