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After the gift of Salvation through the Lord Jesus Christ, after the gift of health, and after the gift of time, perhaps the greatest gift you have in your life are your relationships. One of the greatest gifts God has given you are the gift of relationships. From our relationships we have developed a catalog of great memories, great moments, laughter, trips, and tears of joy. The blessings have flowed into our lives through our relationships—open doors, shoulders to cry on, ears to listen to our cries.
But as you live a little bit longer and get a little bit older, you start to develop a new catalog. From the same well of blessing that has come from our relationships has also come our greatest pain and our greatest sorrow. A relationship that brings you blessing in one season can be the same relationship that brings you sorrow in another season. A relationship that brings you joy in one season can bring you heartbreak in another.
For those who have lived long enough, we can testify to having relationships that have blessed us one day and brought pain to us in another day—not just any kind of pain, but a type of pain so deep, so traumatic, so heartbreaking that you find yourself struggling to forgive the person who has wounded you.
This is the drama at the center of our text. The Lord Jesus has given us in Matthew 18 the most important chapter as it relates to community in the entire New Testament. These ethics of Jesus in this chapter are the foundation of all teaching in the New Testament for how we govern ourselves in the context of family and biblical community.
We have no credibility for a message if we don't get Matthew 18 right. We have no credibility to spread the gospel if we don't get Matthew 18 right. It is Jesus who chose Matthew 18 as the very first teachings he gave to the church that was about to be founded.
In Matthew 18, Jesus tells us:
On the heels of teaching about conflict between brothers and sisters in the church and dealing with people who sin against you, Jesus says these words:
Then Peter came up to him and said, "Lord, how often will my brother sin against me and I forgive him? As many as seven times?" Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times." (Matthew 18:21-22)
Peter is listening to Jesus teach from the beginning of Matthew 18. He hears Jesus talking about dealing with people who sin against you, who hurt you, wound you, offend you. Peter stops Jesus in the middle of the sermon and interrupts him.
Now I don't want to presume to know everything in Peter's heart in this moment, but if we read Peter's question, we can deduce some things from the text. Peter is listening to a difficult teaching and he's having struggle in his heart. He's hearing the Lord giving him a difficult commandment, and he's wrestling with whether he has the capacity to obey that commandment.
Peter knows from experience that there is some pain inflicted on us by people we call friends, by a former spouse, by a former group, by a former mentor. There are some people who have inflicted pain so deep that Peter questions whether he has the capacity to just keep forgiving somebody over and over and over.
What Peter is struggling with is boundless forgiveness.
In the first century, the rabbis taught that if somebody offended you or sinned against you, forgive them once, forgive them twice, but after you forgive them a third time, you can cut that person off. They taught limited forgiveness.
Peter, thinking he's being gracious, comes to the Lord. He tries to get brownie points with the Lord by saying, "If my brother sins against me, how many times should I forgive him? Let me go beyond three—let me go to seven times." He chooses the number of perfection.
But the Lord says to him: "No, Peter. Not seven times, but seventy-seven times." In another translation, the Lord is saying "70 times 7—490 times."
You expect me to keep forgiving somebody that keeps wounding me in the same area 490 times? You don't know what I've suffered with that person. You don't know what they put me through. You don't know the scars they left in my life. And Lord, you actually expect me to forgive them 490 times?
But the Lord is not expecting you to forgive them 490 times because he doesn't expect you to keep count. The 490 times or 70 × 7 is a metaphor from the Lord. Keep forgiving people who hurt you without keeping record of how many times you have to forgive.
The Lord responds to Peter with a parable—an encrypted story to teach Peter not only a lesson, but to create in Peter a grace and strength to be able to obey this commandment.
Therefore the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his servants. And when he began to settle, one was brought to him who owed him 10,000 talents. (Matthew 18:23-24)
The kingdom gives us location for the parable. The Lord is not talking to people outside of the church. This is important: He is talking to brothers and sisters in the context of biblical community. He is not talking to the atheist or the agnostic. He's talking to you who call yourself a follower. He's talking to you who call yourself Christian.
In the kingdom, the king had servants to whom he gave a certain sum of money to handle his business. When he calls for an account, the servants must pay what they owe.
One servant owed the king 10,000 talents.
Now, the talent was the highest form of financial currency in the first century. One talent—just one—was equivalent to 20 years of work. Just do the math: 10,000 talents equals 200,000 years of work. This is an incalculable number. This is an insurmountable debt. This servant is in trouble.
The servant owes the king a debt he cannot pay. He will never be able to pay it off. He has no capacity to pay it off. He could not do it in 10 lifetimes.
Since he could not pay, his master ordered him to be sold with his wife and his children and all that he had. In the first century, if you owed somebody money, they had legal right to even lock you in prison, take your children or spouse, and sell you into slavery. You would work until you paid off that debt or sit in prison until you paid it off.
But look at what happens next:
So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, "Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything." And out of pity for him, the master of the servant released him and forgave him all of that debt. (Matthew 18:26-27)
The servant knows he can never repay this debt in a lifetime. He falls down on his knees and pleads with the king, "Please be patient with me. Have mercy on me." He cries out to the king.
This moment is a beautiful picture of the Gospel. It is that moment when a person recognizes their need for God and cries out to God because they have a sin debt they know they cannot pay.
And watch what the king does: he doesn't even demand him pay a dollar. He clears his account. He releases him. He forgives him. He sends him about his way.
For those of us who have been listening carefully, we understand what Jesus is doing here. The King represents God Almighty. The servant represents everyone who was saved—everyone who cried out to God and said, "Forgive me for my sins." The debt represents the sin debt you could not pay.
You were headed to hell, headed to damnation. But the Lord heard your cry and brought you into the kingdom. He gave you his spirit and canceled your sin debt. He canceled a debt you could not pay.
For those of you in this room, in the overflow, across that camera—you know in your heart that you have been forgiven for all of your mistakes, all of your sins. The Lord has looked down upon you.
In your recklessness, you're still breathing. In your recklessness, you're still in your right mind. You still got a job. You still got a business. You still got a house. You still got a call. You still got a testimony. You still got relationships. You still got help.
For all of us who have received grace—who have been pardoned over and over and over and who have had kept back from us what we really deserve—you know what you really deserve? Wrath. You're not that nice. You're not that holy. You're not that righteous. Jesus.
You think God owes you grace? He owes you nothing but wrath and judgment. Yet you got up this morning. You're still in your right mind. You got all these things that you can rattle off—all these blessings. Yet what you really deserve is wrath. The Lord said to all his church children who have been pardoned, who have been recipients of his grace: We are the servants who had a debt we could not pay. The Lord heard our cry. He saw our pity. He canceled our debt.
But now watch what Jesus does next. He shows you a picture of your heart.
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." (Matthew 18:28)
A man who has been forgiven so much runs into a dude in the street who owes him a small amount of money. He quickly forgets that he has been forgiven. He quickly forgets how much he has been forgiven. 10,000 talents versus 100 denarii. That's like comparing Elon Musk's wealth to pocket change.
He sees a fellow servant who owes him a hundred denarii, and seizing him, he began to choke him. That choking is akin to vengeance.
So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, "Have patience with me, and I will pay you." (Matthew 18:29)
Notice the same words. The same servant falls down and gives the same words you prayed to God. The same words you cried out. The same language. The exact same pleas for mercy.
But what does he do?
But he refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the whole debt. (Matthew 18:30)
He refused. He hardened his heart. He chose to harden his heart towards the one asking for mercy. And then he put him in prison. That is: I'm going to inflict pain on you. I don't have to hear anything you say. You get no forgiveness from me. You're going to make things right or suffer.
This is your heart. This is immoral. It is ungodly. It is hypocritical. And a lot of us, including me, have been guilty of this behavior.
I know what it is to be wounded by a wife, a friend, a companion, a coworker, a mentor, a pastor. And my first response is not forgiveness. My first response is vengeance. My first response is, "Screw you." My first response is, "Get out of my face." My first response is not naturally, "Let this person go."
I know what it is to be wounded so bad that it took me almost 15 years to forgive somebody from my past who wounded me so deeply. And in the moment I held that person, I was in sin for 15 years. Not only did they sin against me—now I was sinning against God by handcuffing that person all those years.
Now watch the last part of the parable:
When the fellow servants saw what had taken place, they were greatly distressed and they went and reported to their master what had taken place. (Matthew 18:31)
Some other people saw the hypocrisy. They were distressed. They went and told the master: "That dude that you forgave went out in the street and choked somebody, refused them, and put them in prison."
Remember, the whole context of Matthew 18 is Jesus teaching his future church how to live in community. We see accountability amongst peers. When I get wind that there's somebody in my community who's been holding somebody for a long time, instead of turning a blind eye, I get down on my knees and I pray: "Lord, I pray for my sister that you help her get free. I pray for my brother that you help him be free."
Or I go and have a conversation with them: "My sister, my brother, let's talk about this trauma. Let's talk about what you've been through. Let's talk about why you're still holding this person. What can we do to get you free?"
They were family who helped family grow in character. They gave the king a report. You give the king a report by praying for the person who is bound in unforgiveness. You go and tell on your brother and sister not to shame them, but to help them: "Lord, they've been holding this person for a long time. Would you help them get free from what they're carrying?"
That's what you do when you love and when you care.
Now watch how the Lord closes the text:
Then his master summoned him and said to him, "You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. And should you not have had mercy on your fellow servant as I have had mercy on you?" And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers until he should pay all his debt. (Matthew 18:32-34)
The king saw the hypocrisy of the forgiven and said: "Because you have been holding this person, I'm going to put you in prison."
Jesus is telling us something difficult: For as long as you hold someone in your heart in unforgiveness, you will be handed over to some form of punishment.
Where does that punishment come? It comes in your soul. The jailers deny you of peace. You get denied a sense of freedom. You're up at night thinking about that person. You're waiting for the phone to ring. They've moved on with their life, and you're still caught up in that season. You're still dealing with trauma.
Some of them are dead and gone, and you're still caught in that season. The tormentors are dealing with your soul because you're holding that person in your heart.
This is a life sentence except you repent.
And then Jesus gives us the final verse:
So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart. (Matthew 18:35)
Not from your mouth. Not from a text. But something you got to work out in your heart.
The Lord says, "Because you don't forgive, I have to afflict your soul until you let that person go."
This is real. This is you getting into beef with your spouse and thinking you could just go watch TV for four days without feeling pain in your soul. Something inside keeps saying, "Dang it, I got to go back and make this right."
This is your mother or your father who grieved you, who sinned against you, and they're dead and gone. You're still carrying them in your heart. The Lord said you'll never have peace until you let them go.
I know this is not easy. When you don't forgive people, we do that as a defense mechanism. We develop a victim mentality and we form an identity that keeps us safe in unforgiveness. To forgive that person almost feels like you're losing control. Almost feels like you're losing a part of yourself.
Man, they stole your virginity. You'll never get that back. They molested you. You'll never get back your innocence. They raped you. They cheated. They betrayed you. They destroyed the marriage. They destroyed the family. They destroyed the business. They wounded you. They left you in tears in one season. You'll never get back those tears. You'll never get back that time.
Some of them may never even have the capacity to come back and apologize. You'll never go back and be a little boy again. You'll never go back and be a little girl again.
When I was molested at ten years old, you never go back. You're never going to be able to go back and get that back.
But what the Lord is saying here—listen: Forgiveness is not for them. Forgiveness is for you to be free. It is to get out of the prison you have been in in your soul.
There are too many of us in this room, too many in that overflow, too many watching across that camera. You've been in a prison for months. You've been in a prison for years. You've been in a prison for decades.
No, they don't deserve it. Neither did you. They may never come back and apologize. This is not the Lord saying you're being a doormat. This is not excusing people. This is the Lord saying: "I care about your freedom so much. I want you to live a life of boundless forgiveness."
That is: when people wound you, just keep letting them go. You're not doing it for them. You're doing it so that you can live in freedom.
The Lord wants you to live in freedom. He wants you to evict everybody in your heart that you've been carrying for years, decades. He wants you to evict them from your heart.
How could I do that? Every time you get a glimpse of the cross and what Christ has done for you on the cross—how on the cross he nailed your entire sin debt—then turn away from it and keep releasing people the same way.
Here is my question for you, because I know it hurts:
Is the blood of Christ enough to pay for what they did?
I know about the rape. We know about the molestation. We know that they cheated on you in the marriage. We know that they hurt you. We know they destroyed the business. We know they abandoned you. We know they rejected you. We know what they did to you in that former season. We know it took you a decade and a half to forgive.
My question is: Is the blood of Christ enough to pay for what they did?
Let's go deeper: Is the blood of Christ enough for you to walk out of here today in freedom?
It may take some time, but at least the decision you make to let them go starts the journey of healing.
After the gift of Salvation through the Lord Jesus Christ, after the gift of health, and after the gift of time, perhaps the greatest gift you have in your life are your relationships. One of the greatest gifts God has given you are the gift of relationships. From our relationships we have developed a catalog of great memories, great moments, laughter, trips, and tears of joy. The blessings have flowed into our lives through our relationships—open doors, shoulders to cry on, ears to listen to our cries.
But as you live a little bit longer and get a little bit older, you start to develop a new catalog. From the same well of blessing that has come from our relationships has also come our greatest pain and our greatest sorrow. A relationship that brings you blessing in one season can be the same relationship that brings you sorrow in another season. A relationship that brings you joy in one season can bring you heartbreak in another.
For those who have lived long enough, we can testify to having relationships that have blessed us one day and brought pain to us in another day—not just any kind of pain, but a type of pain so deep, so traumatic, so heartbreaking that you find yourself struggling to forgive the person who has wounded you.
This is the drama at the center of our text. The Lord Jesus has given us in Matthew 18 the most important chapter as it relates to community in the entire New Testament. These ethics of Jesus in this chapter are the foundation of all teaching in the New Testament for how we govern ourselves in the context of family and biblical community.
We have no credibility for a message if we don't get Matthew 18 right. We have no credibility to spread the gospel if we don't get Matthew 18 right. It is Jesus who chose Matthew 18 as the very first teachings he gave to the church that was about to be founded.
In Matthew 18, Jesus tells us:
On the heels of teaching about conflict between brothers and sisters in the church and dealing with people who sin against you, Jesus says these words:
Then Peter came up to him and said, "Lord, how often will my brother sin against me and I forgive him? As many as seven times?" Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times." (Matthew 18:21-22)
Peter is listening to Jesus teach from the beginning of Matthew 18. He hears Jesus talking about dealing with people who sin against you, who hurt you, wound you, offend you. Peter stops Jesus in the middle of the sermon and interrupts him.
Now I don't want to presume to know everything in Peter's heart in this moment, but if we read Peter's question, we can deduce some things from the text. Peter is listening to a difficult teaching and he's having struggle in his heart. He's hearing the Lord giving him a difficult commandment, and he's wrestling with whether he has the capacity to obey that commandment.
Peter knows from experience that there is some pain inflicted on us by people we call friends, by a former spouse, by a former group, by a former mentor. There are some people who have inflicted pain so deep that Peter questions whether he has the capacity to just keep forgiving somebody over and over and over.
What Peter is struggling with is boundless forgiveness.
In the first century, the rabbis taught that if somebody offended you or sinned against you, forgive them once, forgive them twice, but after you forgive them a third time, you can cut that person off. They taught limited forgiveness.
Peter, thinking he's being gracious, comes to the Lord. He tries to get brownie points with the Lord by saying, "If my brother sins against me, how many times should I forgive him? Let me go beyond three—let me go to seven times." He chooses the number of perfection.
But the Lord says to him: "No, Peter. Not seven times, but seventy-seven times." In another translation, the Lord is saying "70 times 7—490 times."
You expect me to keep forgiving somebody that keeps wounding me in the same area 490 times? You don't know what I've suffered with that person. You don't know what they put me through. You don't know the scars they left in my life. And Lord, you actually expect me to forgive them 490 times?
But the Lord is not expecting you to forgive them 490 times because he doesn't expect you to keep count. The 490 times or 70 × 7 is a metaphor from the Lord. Keep forgiving people who hurt you without keeping record of how many times you have to forgive.
The Lord responds to Peter with a parable—an encrypted story to teach Peter not only a lesson, but to create in Peter a grace and strength to be able to obey this commandment.
Therefore the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his servants. And when he began to settle, one was brought to him who owed him 10,000 talents. (Matthew 18:23-24)
The kingdom gives us location for the parable. The Lord is not talking to people outside of the church. This is important: He is talking to brothers and sisters in the context of biblical community. He is not talking to the atheist or the agnostic. He's talking to you who call yourself a follower. He's talking to you who call yourself Christian.
In the kingdom, the king had servants to whom he gave a certain sum of money to handle his business. When he calls for an account, the servants must pay what they owe.
One servant owed the king 10,000 talents.
Now, the talent was the highest form of financial currency in the first century. One talent—just one—was equivalent to 20 years of work. Just do the math: 10,000 talents equals 200,000 years of work. This is an incalculable number. This is an insurmountable debt. This servant is in trouble.
The servant owes the king a debt he cannot pay. He will never be able to pay it off. He has no capacity to pay it off. He could not do it in 10 lifetimes.
Since he could not pay, his master ordered him to be sold with his wife and his children and all that he had. In the first century, if you owed somebody money, they had legal right to even lock you in prison, take your children or spouse, and sell you into slavery. You would work until you paid off that debt or sit in prison until you paid it off.
But look at what happens next:
So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, "Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything." And out of pity for him, the master of the servant released him and forgave him all of that debt. (Matthew 18:26-27)
The servant knows he can never repay this debt in a lifetime. He falls down on his knees and pleads with the king, "Please be patient with me. Have mercy on me." He cries out to the king.
This moment is a beautiful picture of the Gospel. It is that moment when a person recognizes their need for God and cries out to God because they have a sin debt they know they cannot pay.
And watch what the king does: he doesn't even demand him pay a dollar. He clears his account. He releases him. He forgives him. He sends him about his way.
For those of us who have been listening carefully, we understand what Jesus is doing here. The King represents God Almighty. The servant represents everyone who was saved—everyone who cried out to God and said, "Forgive me for my sins." The debt represents the sin debt you could not pay.
You were headed to hell, headed to damnation. But the Lord heard your cry and brought you into the kingdom. He gave you his spirit and canceled your sin debt. He canceled a debt you could not pay.
For those of you in this room, in the overflow, across that camera—you know in your heart that you have been forgiven for all of your mistakes, all of your sins. The Lord has looked down upon you.
In your recklessness, you're still breathing. In your recklessness, you're still in your right mind. You still got a job. You still got a business. You still got a house. You still got a call. You still got a testimony. You still got relationships. You still got help.
For all of us who have received grace—who have been pardoned over and over and over and who have had kept back from us what we really deserve—you know what you really deserve? Wrath. You're not that nice. You're not that holy. You're not that righteous. Jesus.
You think God owes you grace? He owes you nothing but wrath and judgment. Yet you got up this morning. You're still in your right mind. You got all these things that you can rattle off—all these blessings. Yet what you really deserve is wrath. The Lord said to all his church children who have been pardoned, who have been recipients of his grace: We are the servants who had a debt we could not pay. The Lord heard our cry. He saw our pity. He canceled our debt.
But now watch what Jesus does next. He shows you a picture of your heart.
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." (Matthew 18:28)
A man who has been forgiven so much runs into a dude in the street who owes him a small amount of money. He quickly forgets that he has been forgiven. He quickly forgets how much he has been forgiven. 10,000 talents versus 100 denarii. That's like comparing Elon Musk's wealth to pocket change.
He sees a fellow servant who owes him a hundred denarii, and seizing him, he began to choke him. That choking is akin to vengeance.
So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, "Have patience with me, and I will pay you." (Matthew 18:29)
Notice the same words. The same servant falls down and gives the same words you prayed to God. The same words you cried out. The same language. The exact same pleas for mercy.
But what does he do?
But he refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the whole debt. (Matthew 18:30)
He refused. He hardened his heart. He chose to harden his heart towards the one asking for mercy. And then he put him in prison. That is: I'm going to inflict pain on you. I don't have to hear anything you say. You get no forgiveness from me. You're going to make things right or suffer.
This is your heart. This is immoral. It is ungodly. It is hypocritical. And a lot of us, including me, have been guilty of this behavior.
I know what it is to be wounded by a wife, a friend, a companion, a coworker, a mentor, a pastor. And my first response is not forgiveness. My first response is vengeance. My first response is, "Screw you." My first response is, "Get out of my face." My first response is not naturally, "Let this person go."
I know what it is to be wounded so bad that it took me almost 15 years to forgive somebody from my past who wounded me so deeply. And in the moment I held that person, I was in sin for 15 years. Not only did they sin against me—now I was sinning against God by handcuffing that person all those years.
Now watch the last part of the parable:
When the fellow servants saw what had taken place, they were greatly distressed and they went and reported to their master what had taken place. (Matthew 18:31)
Some other people saw the hypocrisy. They were distressed. They went and told the master: "That dude that you forgave went out in the street and choked somebody, refused them, and put them in prison."
Remember, the whole context of Matthew 18 is Jesus teaching his future church how to live in community. We see accountability amongst peers. When I get wind that there's somebody in my community who's been holding somebody for a long time, instead of turning a blind eye, I get down on my knees and I pray: "Lord, I pray for my sister that you help her get free. I pray for my brother that you help him be free."
Or I go and have a conversation with them: "My sister, my brother, let's talk about this trauma. Let's talk about what you've been through. Let's talk about why you're still holding this person. What can we do to get you free?"
They were family who helped family grow in character. They gave the king a report. You give the king a report by praying for the person who is bound in unforgiveness. You go and tell on your brother and sister not to shame them, but to help them: "Lord, they've been holding this person for a long time. Would you help them get free from what they're carrying?"
That's what you do when you love and when you care.
Now watch how the Lord closes the text:
Then his master summoned him and said to him, "You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. And should you not have had mercy on your fellow servant as I have had mercy on you?" And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers until he should pay all his debt. (Matthew 18:32-34)
The king saw the hypocrisy of the forgiven and said: "Because you have been holding this person, I'm going to put you in prison."
Jesus is telling us something difficult: For as long as you hold someone in your heart in unforgiveness, you will be handed over to some form of punishment.
Where does that punishment come? It comes in your soul. The jailers deny you of peace. You get denied a sense of freedom. You're up at night thinking about that person. You're waiting for the phone to ring. They've moved on with their life, and you're still caught up in that season. You're still dealing with trauma.
Some of them are dead and gone, and you're still caught in that season. The tormentors are dealing with your soul because you're holding that person in your heart.
This is a life sentence except you repent.
And then Jesus gives us the final verse:
So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart. (Matthew 18:35)
Not from your mouth. Not from a text. But something you got to work out in your heart.
The Lord says, "Because you don't forgive, I have to afflict your soul until you let that person go."
This is real. This is you getting into beef with your spouse and thinking you could just go watch TV for four days without feeling pain in your soul. Something inside keeps saying, "Dang it, I got to go back and make this right."
This is your mother or your father who grieved you, who sinned against you, and they're dead and gone. You're still carrying them in your heart. The Lord said you'll never have peace until you let them go.
I know this is not easy. When you don't forgive people, we do that as a defense mechanism. We develop a victim mentality and we form an identity that keeps us safe in unforgiveness. To forgive that person almost feels like you're losing control. Almost feels like you're losing a part of yourself.
Man, they stole your virginity. You'll never get that back. They molested you. You'll never get back your innocence. They raped you. They cheated. They betrayed you. They destroyed the marriage. They destroyed the family. They destroyed the business. They wounded you. They left you in tears in one season. You'll never get back those tears. You'll never get back that time.
Some of them may never even have the capacity to come back and apologize. You'll never go back and be a little boy again. You'll never go back and be a little girl again.
When I was molested at ten years old, you never go back. You're never going to be able to go back and get that back.
But what the Lord is saying here—listen: Forgiveness is not for them. Forgiveness is for you to be free. It is to get out of the prison you have been in in your soul.
There are too many of us in this room, too many in that overflow, too many watching across that camera. You've been in a prison for months. You've been in a prison for years. You've been in a prison for decades.
No, they don't deserve it. Neither did you. They may never come back and apologize. This is not the Lord saying you're being a doormat. This is not excusing people. This is the Lord saying: "I care about your freedom so much. I want you to live a life of boundless forgiveness."
That is: when people wound you, just keep letting them go. You're not doing it for them. You're doing it so that you can live in freedom.
The Lord wants you to live in freedom. He wants you to evict everybody in your heart that you've been carrying for years, decades. He wants you to evict them from your heart.
How could I do that? Every time you get a glimpse of the cross and what Christ has done for you on the cross—how on the cross he nailed your entire sin debt—then turn away from it and keep releasing people the same way.
Here is my question for you, because I know it hurts:
Is the blood of Christ enough to pay for what they did?
I know about the rape. We know about the molestation. We know that they cheated on you in the marriage. We know that they hurt you. We know they destroyed the business. We know they abandoned you. We know they rejected you. We know what they did to you in that former season. We know it took you a decade and a half to forgive.
My question is: Is the blood of Christ enough to pay for what they did?
Let's go deeper: Is the blood of Christ enough for you to walk out of here today in freedom?
It may take some time, but at least the decision you make to let them go starts the journey of healing.
