Before we get started I want to take a moment and acknowledge the 25th anniversary of 9/11 today. Hard to believe it has been 25 years and if you are old enough to have lived through that time, no doubt you remember exactly where you were when you heard or saw the news. Even though I did not lose someone I knew in those attacks, we all felt the shock, fear, or even anger that day. It was a dark day in American history and one our country has been marked by. Take some time today and pray for the families who are still mourning and grieving the loss of a loved one. Pray for our first responders. Pray for our nation. We will never forget. THE UNFORGIVING SERVANT The parable for this week gets right to the heart of something a lot of us deal with but probably don’t realize we do. Most guys wouldn’t call themselves bitter. Most of us wouldn’t say we’re living in bitterness or resentment toward somebody. Those words feel a bit too weighty for something we’d rather not acknowledge. But if we’re honest, the evidence is probably there. When someone mentions that person’s name and something in you tenses up. It’s in the person you see across the store and you find a reason to walk down another aisle. It’s in the relative you’ve distanced yourself from without a conversation. We tell ourselves it’s just drifting apart, it’s just busyness, it’s just easier this way. We would rather not face it head on. And in some cases we don’t even know what we are really dealing with. This isn’t a small issue. Jesus doesn’t touch on forgiveness once and move on, he comes back to it again and again. Forgiveness isn’t a suggestion for the guys who can manage it, it’s a command. God has forgiven us an impossible debt through Christ, and because of that we are commanded to forgive one another. But that is a very hard truth to understand and put into practice. Jesus knew this and so he told a story that helps us understand just how important this really is. Right before this parable, Peter comes to Jesus with a question. How many times am I supposed to forgive someone? Peter isn’t being smart with Jesus here, his question is sincere. He wants to obey. He’s probably feeling generous even offering up to seven times. Then Peter came up and said to him, “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 Jesus answers with hyperbole. He’s not establishing for Peter a new limit to count to. He’s telling him to stop counting. Then Jesus tells a story to show why. “Therefore the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his servants. When he began to settle, one was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents. 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. 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 that servant released him and forgave him the debt.Matthew 18:23-27 Ten thousand talents wasn’t just a large number, it was an absurdly large number. A single talent was worth more than a laborer could earn in fifteen or twenty years. Nobody accidentally ends up owing that much money. So how does a man get himself that far into debt? Years of taking what wasn’t his, covering it, telling himself he’d make it right eventually. This wasn’t an honest man who hit hard times. This was likely a foolish man, and the debt only exposed what was already true about his heart. The truth is, you are that man. And so am I. Through our own foolishness and sin, we’ve racked up a debt before God that’s just as absurd. We’re not sinners by accident, we’re sinners by nature and by choice, broken and foolish, standing in front of a King with a bill we could never touch. You’d think a man who just had an impossible, unpayable debt wiped clean would walk out of that room a different person. But watch what happens next. 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.” 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.Matthew 18:28-30 A hundred denarii was real money, a few months’ wages. It wasn’t nothing. But set next to ten thousand talents, it’s not even in the same universe. This man, forgiven a debt he could never have repaid in a hundred lifetimes, grabs a guy by the throat over a debt that could be paid off in a few months. 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. 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 not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?” And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt. So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.Matthew 18:31-35 Wow. This is a hard truth to swallow. Jesus gives us the king’s perspective here, and from where the king stands, we can see clearly just how wicked this servant really is. But what’s the application for us? A few things. First, a forgiven man is a forgiving man. That’s not a suggestion tucked into the story, it’s the whole point of it. When Jesus says, “so also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart,” that lands with a lot of weight. It sounds harsh at first. But Jesus isn’t threatening you with losing your salvation over a grudge. He’s telling you something about what real salvation produces. A man who has actually grasped what he’s been forgiven doesn’t walk around choking people over a hundred denarii. If you’ve truly received grace, grace works its way out of you toward other people. Forgiveness of others isn’t what earns your forgiveness, it’s the evidence that the Holy Spirit is alive and working in you. Withholding it isn’t just a character flaw, it’s a sign that our hearts need careful examination. If God’s grace doesn’t flow freely from our hearts, we must ask the question, “Have I actually received God’s grace?” “A forgiven man is a forgiving man.” Then there’s that word “jailers” in verse thirty-four. In the Greek, it’s basanistais, and it doesn’t just mean someone who locks a door and holds you until you pay. It means torturer. It’s the word used for men whose job was inflicting pain, examiners who extracted confessions and payments through torment. Some translations render it “tormentors.” That’s not an exaggeration, that’s the literal word Jesus chose. In other words, the payment will be taken from your flesh. The unforgiving servant wasn’t just imprisoned. He was handed over to be tormented. And of course, Jesus is ultimately referencing eternal torment and separation from God. But that’s exactly what unforgiveness does to us on this side of eternity as well. It doesn’t put the other person in a cell. It puts us in one. The bitterness, resentment, and anger has a lasting effect on your soul. It leads to a tormenting of the soul that follows us all the days of our lives. The person you’re actually locking up and handing over to the tormentors is yourself. It has helped me to think about it this way. At it’s core, unforgiveness is not really about the other person. It’s a trust issue. When you refuse to forgive someone, what you’re actually saying, whether you’d put it this way or not, is that you don’t trust God to actually deal with what they did to you. Think about why we hold on. We don’t want them to get away with it. We want them to pay somehow, feel it, lose something the way we lost something. And if we let go of that grip, some part of us is afraid it just evaporates, that justice never happens and they walk away clean. So we hold the debt ourselves. We become the judge, the jailer, and the executioner all at once. Now, that’s not because we’re crazy for wanting justice. God built that desire into us. He is just, and he loves justice, and it’s right to want wrong things made right. But here’s where it gets uncomfortable. If you’re honest, some part of you is actually hoping this person suffers. That’s a strange thing to want, when you stop and look at it. And it’s not our job to make that happen. God has never asked you to be the one who exacts payment. That’s too heavy a weight for a man to carry, it was never built for your shoulders. There’s something bigger going on too. When we refuse to forgive, we’re actually undermining the power of Jesus’ blood on the cross. If the person who wronged you is a believer, their sin against you has already been covered. Christ took God’s wrath for it when he died. It’s paid for. If they’re not a believer, God’s wrath is still coming for them. Either way, the outcome isn’t in your hands. You have no part in that process, it was settled at the cross or it’s still waiting on judgment, and neither of those is your job to manage. Somebody’s going to say, “So I just let them off the hook? Pretend it didn’t happen?” No. Forgiveness doesn’t erase what they did or pretend the wound wasn’t real. It doesn’t mean you owe them trust again, and it doesn’t mean every boundary you’ve built comes down. What it means is you stop holding their judgment in your own hands. You hand it to the only one qualified to carry it, and you trust him to actually do something wi