First Baptist Church Litchfield
August 23, 2026

      • Isaiah 6:1–8ESV

  • Only A Holy God
  • Holy Holy Holy

      • 1 Peter 1:13–19ESV

  • Before The Throne Of God Above
  • Speak O Lord
  • Be Thou My Vision

  • Kingdom Forgiveness

    Last week we began with the remarkable story of Chris Carrier. In 1974, ten-year-old Chris was kidnapped, tortured, shot in the head, and left to die in the Florida Everglades. Yet in the middle of that horrific suffering, this young boy cried out, “Father, forgive him because he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
    His story forced us to wrestle with a difficult question:

    What do you do when the debt someone owes you is so great that forgiveness seems impossible?

    That is the question sitting underneath Peter’s words in Matthew 18:21: “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him?”
    In asking the question, Peter wanted to know when his obligation to forgive had finally been exhausted. He suggested seven times. But Jesus answered, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.” And we saw that Jesus was deliberately contrasting the heart of His kingdom with the heart of Lamech in Genesis 4.
    Lamech multiplied vengeance. Jesus multiplies mercy. Lamech kept score so he could retaliate. Jesus tells His disciples to throw away the scorecard.
    The truth is, we are more like Lamech than we realize when it comes to forgiveness.
    Our sinful hearts tend to keep a careful record of the sins committed against us while forgetting the immeasurable debt God has forgiven us.
    We keep an emotional ledger: He did this to me. She said that about me. I've already forgiven this once. How many more times am I supposed to put up with this?
    But Jesus tells Peter, in effect, “Peter, before you start calculating what your brother owes you, you need to remember what you owe the King.”
    And that is where Jesus takes us today.
    He tells a story about two debts. One debt is so enormous it could never possibly be repaid. The other debt is real and significant, but comparatively small. And the scandal of the story is that the man who has been forgiven the greater debt refuses to forgive the lesser one.
    That is us, isn’t it? We easily magnify the sins committed against us while minimizing the sins God has forgiven in us. But the gospel reverses our accounting.
    At the cross, Jesus did not minimize our debt. He paid it. The King absorbed the immeasurable cost of our rebellion through the blood of His Son. And once you understand the magnitude of the mercy you have received, it becomes increasingly difficult to clutch your neighbor's debt with a closed fist.
    So the question today is no longer,

    “How much does this person owe me?”

    The better question is:

    “How much has my King forgiven me?”

    And Jesus' answer leads us back to our main truth:

    Because the King has forgiven our immeasurable debt, those who belong to His kingdom must freely forgive the debts of others.

    Last week we learned the first of four truths that shape your heart: Kingdom Forgiveness Forgives Without Keeping Score. Now we will shore up the other three truths beginning with truth two,

    II. Kingdom Forgiveness Remembers the Debt the King Freely Forgave — Matthew 18:23–27

    Jesus says,
    “Therefore the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his servants.” (Matthew 18:23)
    Notice that word “therefore.”
    Jesus is connecting this parable directly to what He has just told Peter. Peter wants to know how many times he must forgive his brother. Jesus tells him to stop counting, and then He tells Peter a story designed to show him why.
    It is as though Jesus says, “Peter, before you start counting how many times your brother has sinned against you, let Me show you how much the King has forgiven you.”
    That is the foundation of kingdom forgiveness. Citizens of heaven forgive differently because they remember how much they have been forgiven.
    Jesus continues,
    “When he began to settle, one was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents.” (v. 24)
    Jesus deliberately chooses an outrageous number. A talent was the largest monetary denomination commonly used, and myrioi—“ten thousand”—was the largest conventional Greek numeral. A denarius represented roughly one day's wage. Ten thousand talents would therefore represent roughly sixty million days of labor. The point is that the debt is incalculable. This man owes more than he could possibly repay. And then comes the judgment:
    “And since he could not pay, his master ordered him to be sold, with his wife and children and all that he had, and payment to be made.” (v. 25)
    Craig Keener notes that selling family members for a man's debt reflected Gentile practices that Jewish hearers would have found abhorrent. But even then, the economics don't work. The sale of the servant and his entire family would recover only a tiny fraction of what was owed.
    That's part of Jesus' point. There is no solution within the servant's resources. Sell everything. Liquidate everything. Take everything he possesses. It isn't enough. The debt remains.
    Then the servant does what desperate people do.
    “So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’” (v. 26)
    You can almost hear the absurdity in his promise. “Give me more time.” More time? How much time?
    The debt represents tens of millions of days of labor! He could live a thousand lifetimes and never come close.
    “Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.” No, you won't. You can't.
    The debt is beyond calculation and beyond repayment. And spiritually, brothers and sisters, that is us. We have sinned against the infinitely holy God. We have failed to love Him with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength (Matt. 22:37). We have violated His law in our thoughts, words, desires, and actions.
    Paul's conclusion is devastating:
    “None is righteous, no, not one.” (Romans 3:10)
    The magnitude of our sin is beyond ten thousand talents, it’s immeasurable. And if you can’t see that truth then you will never understand kingdom forgiveness. You have to see the total depravity of your sin if you will experience the teleos (fullness, completeness) of God’s mercy.
    Not seeing your sin correctly us why fallen humanity continues making the servant's promise: “Just give me more time. I'll pay it back.” I'll become more religious. I'll start going to church. I'll clean up my life. I'll do more good than bad. I'll try harder. I'll become a better person.
    Religion says, “Give me enough time and I'll make this right.”
    The gospel says, “You cannot make this right. You need mercy.”
    And mercy is exactly what the King gives.
    Jesus says,
    “And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt.” (v. 27)
    Don't move past that too quickly; take note of your King. The servant asked for patience. The King gave him pardon. The servant asked for more time. The King cancelled the debt. The servant promised repayment. The King demanded nothing. Why?
    Jesus says the King had pity on him.
    The King's forgiveness did not originate in the servant's merit. It did not originate in his ability. It did not originate in his promises. It originated in the compassionate heart of the King.
    That is the character of our God.
    David says,
    “The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.... He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities.... As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.” (Psalm 103:8, 10, 13)
    And Isaiah invites guilty sinners:
    “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.” (Isaiah 55:7)
    Abundantly pardon!
    That is what this King does.

    Behold Your King!

    The servant asks for patience. The King gives pardon. He asks for more time. The King cancels the debt. He promises to work it off. The King releases him. That is grace, friend!
    God's grace does not merely make up the difference after you've done your part. God doesn't look at your religious efforts and say, “You've covered eighty percent; Jesus will take care of the rest.” No.
    Our debt is beyond our ability to repay.
    Salvation is God's merciful provision for people who have absolutely no ability to discharge their debt before Him.
    But there is one crucial difference between the king in Jesus' parable and the gospel. In the parable, the debt simply disappears from the servant's account. At the cross, our debt was paid. God does not forgive us by pretending our sin doesn't matter. He does not sweep our guilt beneath the throne of heaven. Our forgiveness is free to us, but it was infinitely costly to Christ.
    Peter says,
    “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree.” (1 Peter 2:24)
    Paul says that God put Christ forward as the propitiation for our sins so that He might be “just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (Romans 3:25–26).
    At Calvary, Christ bore the judgment our sins deserved. Our guilt was His burden. Our condemnation fell upon Him. Our debt was paid by His blood.
    So Christian, when Satan accuses you, when your conscience reminds you of what you have done, when you look back over the accumulated record of your sin, remember the King. Sing the hymn and remind your soul,
    When Satan tempts me to despair And tells me of the guilt within Upward I look and see Him there Who made an end to all my sin Because the sinless Savior died My sinful soul is counted free For God the Just is satisfied To look on Him and pardon me To look on Him and pardon me
    Jesus says to the sinner seeking mercy, “Forgiven.”
    That is the gospel. And that is what Jesus wants Peter to remember before Peter ever starts calculating what somebody else owes him.
    Before you count your brother's sins against you, count the King's mercy toward you.
    Before you rehearse what she did to you, remember what Christ has done for you.
    Before you demand payment from your offender, remember the debt from which you have been released.
    Because people who live at the foot of the cross should find it increasingly difficult to live with their hands around somebody else's throat. And brothers and sisters, if you understand the magnitude of that mercy, what happens next in Jesus' story should horrify you.
    A man who has just walked out of the King's presence forgiven an ocean of debt finds a fellow servant who owes him a cupful, and grabs him by the throat.
    Truth number three.

    III. Kingdom Forgiveness Extends the Mercy the King Has Shown You — vv. 28–33

    Jesus says,
    “But when that same servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him, he began to choke him, saying, ‘Pay what you owe.’” (v. 28)
    I can’t get over the first three words, “That same servant.” This is the man who had just stood helpless before the king. This is the man who had fallen on his knees begging for mercy. This is the man who owed a debt he could never repay. This is the man whose king had looked upon him with compassion, released him, and cancelled everything. That same servant walks out of the king's presence and finds a fellow servant who owes him one hundred denarii.
    Now, the hundred denarii was not nothing. A denarius was approximately one day's wage for an ordinary laborer, so this represented more than three months of wages.
    The second debt is real. That's important. Jesus is not saying, “They didn't really hurt you.” He is not saying, “It wasn't that bad.” He is not saying, “Just get over it.”
    Some sins committed against us leave deep wounds. Chris Carrier suffered night terrors after his attack for years. He no longer had sight in one of his eyes. Some of you know the pain of betrayal, abandonment, adultery, slander, abuse, broken promises, or years of mistreatment. The gospel does not minimize the debt. The hundred denarii matters. But Jesus takes that real debt and places it beside ten thousand talents. That's the comparison.
    The question isn't whether your brother really owes you. He does. I think a better question may be, can you take the three hundred denarii owed to you and put it next to the ten thousand talents you were forgiven? This servant quickly forgot this grace principle in kingdom forgiveness. Instead of measuring his fellow servant's debt against the mercy he had just received, he treats his fellow servant as though the hundred denarii were ten thousand talents.
    Look at what he does: “Seizing him, he began to choke him, saying, ‘Pay what you owe.’”
    What a horrifying transformation. Minutes earlier, his hands were stretched out pleading for mercy. Now those same hands are wrapped around another man's throat demanding payment.
    Before the king he pleaded, “Have patience with me.” Before his fellow servant he demands, “Pay what you owe.” He wanted mercy for himself and justice for everybody else. Jesus says that is wicked and forgetful.

    A. Refusing Mercy Is Wicked — vv. 28–30

    Jesus continues,
    “So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt.” (vv. 29–30)
    Sound familiar, right? We just heard them from the first servant. The second servant gives essentially the same plea the first servant had made before the king: “Have patience with me, and I will pay you.”
    Jesus deliberately repeats the language. The first servant should have heard himself in the other man's plea. He should have remembered what it felt like to be helpless. He should have remembered kneeling before the king. He should have remembered the compassion in the king's face. He should have remembered walking away free.
    You’ve heard this before somewhere in you Christian walk; “Mercy received should be mercy extended.”
    Instead, verse 30, reveals the motive behind this madness: “He refused.”
    The imperfect verb emphasizes his continuing unwillingness. He is not having a single emotional reaction in the heat of the moment. He is choosing to remain unwilling. He persists in his refusal.
    He knows what mercy looks like. He just received it. But he refuses to give it.
    That is why Jesus will shortly call him a “wicked servant” (v. 32). His wickedness is exposed in the contradiction between the mercy he gladly receives and the mercy he stubbornly refuses to extend. He acts more like Lamech than Jesus.
    Remember Lamech? You hurt me. You will pay. You dishonored me. I will have vengeance. I will determine what justice looks like. That's exactly what this servant is doing. And before we condemn him too quickly, we need to recognize the uncomfortable elephant in the room: His heart can look remarkably like ours.
    We want God to remember Christ when He looks at our sin, but we remember every detail when we look at someone else's. We want God to cover us with grace while we measure everyone else by strict justice. We want God to cancel our ten thousand talents while we keep a ledger of everybody else's hundred denarii. We cry, “Lord, have mercy on me.” Then we turn around and say, “Now you, pay what you owe.”
    Brothers and sisters, that is wicked. Kingdom forgiveness cannot receive mercy with one hand while choking our brother with the other. The mercy of the King is meant to change the way we see every debt owed to us.

    B. Refusing Mercy Forgets the Mercy We Have Received — vv. 31–33

    Jesus says,
    “When his fellow servants saw what had taken place, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their master all that had taken place.” (v. 31)
    His behavior does not remain private. Sin ripples outward, doesn't it? It rarely affects only the sinner. Unforgiveness damages marriages. It divides families. It strains friendships. It creates factions in churches. One person's refusal to extend mercy can disturb an entire community. And that is exactly what happens here.
    The other servants see what this man has done, and Jesus says they are “greatly distressed.” And they should be. They have presumably witnessed the generosity of the king. They know what this servant has been forgiven. And now they watch this recipient of extraordinary mercy grab another servant by the throat over a comparatively tiny debt.
    Something is terribly wrong with that picture. So they report everything to the king.
    And the king summons the servant:
    “You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me.” (v. 32)
    Notice what the king calls him. Wicked.
    Why? He calls him wicked because he gladly received a immeasurable mercy and then stubbornly refused to extend a measure of that mercy to another person.
    Look at verse 33. I want you to underline:
    “And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?” (v. 33)
    That is the heart of kingdom forgiveness. The language carries the idea of obligation: Was it not necessary? Should you not have shown mercy?
    In other words, once this servant had experienced the extraordinary mercy of the king, mercy toward his fellow servant was not optional. It was obligational. He owed mercy because he had received mercy.
    His fellow servant didn’t deserve it. But because he himself was a recipient of immeasurably greater mercy, he had mercy to give someone who owed him a debt. That is gospel logic.
    Jesus does not say: “Show mercy so that the King will show mercy to you.”
    Rather: “The King has shown mercy to you; therefore, you must become a person who shows mercy.”
    Grace received becomes grace extended. Mercy experienced becomes mercy expressed. Forgiven people become forgiving people.
    This is exactly how Paul describes the Christian life:
    “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:32)
    And again:
    “As the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.” (Colossians 3:13)
    Notice the same pattern: As God forgave you. As the Lord forgave you. As I had mercy on you.
    The mercy we extend horizontally flows from the mercy we have received vertically.
    Brothers and sisters, when forgiveness becomes difficult, and sometimes it will, Jesus tells us where to look. Look up before you look across.
    Before you stare at the hundred denarii your brother owes you, remember the ten thousand talents the King forgave you. Before you rehearse their offense, rehearse the gospel. Before you calculate their debt, remember yours. Before you say, “They don't deserve my mercy,” remember that mercy, by definition, is never given because it is deserved.
    This does not mean pretending the hundred denarii never existed.
    Biblical forgiveness does not call evil good. It does not erase every consequence. It does not require immediate restoration of trust. Wisdom may sometimes require boundaries, and serious sin may carry serious consequences. But none of those realities gives the Christian permission to cherish vengeance, cultivate bitterness, or refuse mercy to a repentant brother or sister.
    Do your best to always remember that we live every day on mercy ourselves. And Jesus refuses to allow unforgiveness to become a respectable sin in the Christian life. He does not say, “Well, this servant has a little bitterness problem.” He calls him wicked.
    And suddenly the story becomes dark. The King who was astonishingly compassionate in verse 27 becomes terrifyingly severe in verse 34, “And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt.”
    The word jailers literally means “torturers.” The debtor’s torture would continue until the debt was paid in full. Since the debt could not possibly be repaid, the torture symbolizes eternal punishment, which brings to light our fourth truth.

    IV. Kingdom Forgiveness Fears the Judgment Revealed by an Unforgiving Heart — vv. 34–35

    In verses 34-35, Jesus shows us why this matters so much.
    A heart that persistently refuses to extend the King's mercy raises a frightening question about whether that heart has ever truly experienced the King's mercy at all.
    Jesus says, “And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt.” (v. 34)
    The King is angry. The same King who was moved with compassion in verse 27 is now moved with righteous anger in verse 34.
    Why? Because the servant's behavior has revealed something terribly wrong. He received the King's pardon, but the King's mercy never transformed his heart. He walked away from the King and immediately returned to the values of Lamech: Pay what you owe.
    He wanted mercy for himself, but wanted vengeance for everyone else.
    And now the King delivers him to judgment “until he should pay all his debt.” Remember the size of the debt. Ten thousand talents. Sixty million days of wages. An impossible debt. How long will it take him to repay it? Forever. He will never get out.
    Jesus is using the language of the parable to point us toward the terrifying reality of final judgment. The servant who will not extend the King's mercy discovers that he remains accountable for a debt he can never repay.
    And then Jesus steps out of the story and looks directly at His disciples:
    “So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.” (v. 35)
    Those are terrifying words. Jesus doesn't say, “My Father might do this.” He says, “My heavenly Father will do this.” And notice where Jesus locates the issue: “From your heart.”
    Kingdom forgiveness is not settled by saying the words, “I forgive you.” You cannot get away with smiling at your offender while secretly nurturing bitterness. Jesus does allow for outward reconciliation while inwardly fantasizing about revenge. Jesus goes after your heart.
    This takes us all the way back to Lamech. The real problem was never what Lamech did with his hands. The problem was what ruled his heart. Pride. Vengeance. Self-exaltation. “You hurt me, and I will make you pay.”
    Jesus says that spirit cannot characterize the citizens of His kingdom. Jesus is teaching that people who have truly experienced the transforming mercy of God become merciful people.
    That has been Jesus' teaching throughout Matthew.
    “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” (Matthew 5:7)
    He taught us to pray:
    “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” (Matthew 6:12)
    And then He warned:
    “For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” (Matthew 6:14–15)
    Jesus has been consistent.
    The fruit does not produce the root. The root produces the fruit. We do not forgive so that we can become forgiven people. We forgive because, in Christ, we are forgiven people. Forgiveness is not the price of salvation. It is the fruit of salvation. Mercy toward others does not purchase God's mercy. It demonstrates that God's mercy has taken root in us.
    That means there is an enormous difference between a Christian struggling to forgive and a person settled in unforgiveness.
    Some wounds are deep. Some betrayals are devastating. Some sins leave scars that remain for years. You may have to wake up tomorrow and fight bitterness again. You may have to remind your heart of the gospel again. You may have to pray again:
    “Father, help me forgive as You have forgiven me.”
    The struggle itself is not necessarily evidence that you are unforgiven. But there is something very different about saying:
    “I will not forgive.”
    “I want them to suffer.”
    “I will never release this debt.”
    “I don't care what Christ commands.”
    A person who stubbornly, habitually, and unrepentantly refuses to forgive has reason to examine whether he has ever truly understood and received the mercy of the King.
    Paul says, “Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith.” (2 Corinthians 13:5)
    Because if you stand before God apart from the forgiveness purchased by Christ, you still owe the ten thousand talents, and you cannot pay it. Not with your religion. Not with your morality. Not with your good works. Not with a thousand lifetimes. And if you die with that debt unforgiven, you will bear the righteous judgment of God eternally in hell.

    When Forgiveness Seems Impossible

    How do you forgive someone when what they have done to you seems impossible to forgive? That is the question we have been wrestling with. How do you forgive the betrayal? The abandonment? The adultery? The abuse? The lies? How do you forgive when the hundred denarii feels like ten thousand talents?
    More than twenty years after ten-year-old Chris Carrier was abducted, tortured, shot, and left to die in the Florida Everglades, Chris received a telephone call.
    The police had found the man they believed had done it. David McAllister was now an old man, blind from glaucoma and dying in a nursing home. Chris was asked if he wanted to meet him. He went.
    Think about that for a moment.
    The little boy who had once lain wounded and bleeding because of this man was now a grown Christian man walking into his nursing-home room. McAllister initially denied what he had done. Eventually, however, he confessed.
    And Chris Carrier reached out, held the hand of the man who had tried to murder him, and told him that he forgave him.
    When Chris left that evening, he told McAllister to have a good night's rest.
    McAllister replied, “I will now.”
    But Chris didn't stop there. He continued visiting him. He brought his daughters to meet him. A relationship developed between them. Chris shared the gospel with him, and before McAllister died, he professed faith in Jesus Christ. McAllister would eventually describe Chris Carrier as the best friend he had ever had.
    Brothers and sisters, that is kingdom forgiveness.
    What David McAllister did wasn't small. Chris didn't pretend there wasn't a debt.
    He didn't say, “It doesn't matter. I wasn't really hurt.” The scars were real. The suffering was real. The debt was real. The hundred denarii mattered. But Chris Carrier knew something David McAllister desperately needed to know. Chris had been forgiven too. Not of the same sins. But by the same King.
    Chris understood that before he was ever the wounded boy with a debt owed to him, he was a guilty sinner standing before a holy King with a debt he could never repay. And that King had shown him mercy. That is the answer to our question.

    How do you forgive when forgiveness seems impossible?

    You remember the King.

    When the debt someone owes you seems enormous, remember the debt the King forgave you.

    When you want to keep score, remember that the King tore up your ledger.

    When you want to say, “Pay what you owe,” remember that Christ paid what you owed.

    When vengeance begins whispering, “Make them pay,” look again at the cross and remember that you live entirely by mercy.

    Look up before you look across.
    Because at the cross, you discover that you are not only the person who has been sinned against. You are the servant who has been forgiven ten thousand talents. And that changes everything. Jesus began this conversation because Peter wanted a number.
    “How often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?”
    Peter wanted to know when he could stop forgiving. Jesus told him to stop counting.
    Then He told him why. You have been forgiven too much to spend the rest of your life keeping score.
    Church, tear up the scorecard. Put down the emotional ledger. Stop rehearsing the debt. Stop feeding the bitterness. Stop fantasizing about vengeance. And when your brother or sister repents, extend the mercy you have received.
    And if you are sitting here harboring a settled refusal to forgive—if your heart says, “I don't care what Jesus says; I will never forgive them”—hear the warning of Christ:

    “So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.”

    Do not treat that warning lightly. Run to the King. Repent. Remember your ten thousand talents. Remember the cross. Remember the blood that purchased your pardon.
    And ask God to make the mercy you have received become the mercy you extend.
    Because one day, if David McAllister's profession was genuine, the little boy who was shot and the man who shot him will stand together before Jesus with no debt between them.
    Two sinners, completely reconciled, standing together before the King who forgave them both.
    That is what the gospel does.
    And until that day, may we be a people who forgive from the heart, because we never forget how much the King has forgiven us. Amen.

      • Matthew 18:24–35ESV

      • Matthew 18:21–35ESV

      • Matthew 6:14–15ESV

  • I Surrender All
First Baptist Church Litchfield
pastorjason.fbcl@gmail.com
217-324-4232
http://www.firstbaptistlitchfield.org/
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