Commentary - Matthew 18:21-35

Bird's-eye view

This section of Matthew's gospel comes right on the heels of instructions for church discipline. Having laid out the process for dealing with a brother's sin, the Lord now anticipates the very practical question that must arise in any community of sinners who are trying to live together in righteousness. That question is about forgiveness. Peter, ever the spokesman, wants to know the limits. Jesus responds with a parable that demolishes all limits, revealing that the entire economy of the kingdom of heaven runs on a currency of radical, asymmetrical grace.

The parable of the unforgiving servant is a stark illustration of the gospel. We are presented with two debts: one astronomical and unpayable, the other trivial and manageable. The man who was forgiven the unpayable debt refuses to forgive the trivial one, and in so doing, reveals that he never truly understood or received the grace that was shown to him. The central point is this: our forgiveness of others is not the cause of our forgiveness from God, but it is the absolutely necessary evidence of it. If you get the gospel, you give the gospel. If you get forgiveness, you give forgiveness. A refusal to forgive your brother reveals a heart that has never been gripped by the magnitude of its own forgiveness in Christ.

Outline

Context In Matthew

This passage is embedded within what is often called the "Discourse on the Church" in Matthew 18. The chapter begins with a lesson on humility, using a child as the example (18:1-5). It then moves to stern warnings against causing little ones to stumble (18:6-9) and the parable of the lost sheep, showing the Father's heart for the one who strays (18:10-14). This is immediately followed by the well-known procedure for church discipline when a brother sins against you (18:15-20). It is therefore entirely logical for Peter to ask his question here. If the goal of discipline is restoration, and if we are to seek the one who strays, then the issue of repeated forgiveness is central. This isn't an abstract theological discussion; it's about the nuts and bolts of living together as a covenant community of redeemed sinners.

Verse by Verse Commentary

21 Then Peter came and said to Him, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?”

Peter comes to Jesus, and we should give him some credit. He is thinking through the practical application of Jesus' teaching. He understands that life in the kingdom will involve being sinned against, and that forgiveness is required. He's not asking if he should forgive, but how often. The rabbinic teaching of the day typically required forgiving someone three times. After the third offense, you were off the hook. So Peter, likely thinking himself quite generous, more than doubles the going rate and suggests seven, a number of perfection and completion. He is trying to be a good student. He is trying to establish a righteous, but manageable, standard. But like all human attempts to quantify righteousness, it falls comically short of the divine standard.

22 Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.”

Jesus' answer is designed to shatter Peter's entire framework. Whether this means 77 times or 490 times is beside the point. The point is that you are to stop counting. Jesus is not replacing one number with a much larger one; He is replacing a calculator with a cross. He is moving forgiveness out of the realm of arithmetic and into the realm of grace. The kind of forgiveness required in the kingdom of God is not a transaction to be tracked on a ledger, but a disposition of the heart that flows from having been forgiven an infinite debt. Peter wanted a rule; Jesus gives him a new nature. The standard is not a number, but the very character of God, whose mercies are new every morning.

23-25 “For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he had begun to settle them, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him. But since he did not have the means to repay, his lord commanded him to be sold, along with his wife and children and all that he had, and repayment to be made.”

Jesus now launches into a parable to illustrate why our forgiveness must be limitless. The kingdom operates on this principle. The king represents God, and the slave represents one of us. The king decides to settle accounts, which is a picture of the day of judgment. And the first man brought in has a debt that is simply breathtaking. Ten thousand talents was the largest number used in Greek arithmetic. A single talent was worth about twenty years of a common laborer's wages. This debt was more than the entire annual tax revenue of a large province like Galilee. It was an impossible, astronomical sum, meant to represent the infinite nature of our sin against a holy God. The slave had no means to repay, which is precisely our condition. We are utterly bankrupt. The penalty is severe and just: he, his family, and all his possessions are to be sold. This demonstrates the totality of sin's claim; it costs you everything.

26-27 “Therefore, the slave fell to the ground and was prostrating himself before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me and I will repay you everything.’ And feeling compassion, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt.”

The slave's plea is both desperate and foolish. "I will repay you everything." He still doesn't grasp the magnitude of his debt. He thinks he just needs more time, a payment plan. He is like the sinner who thinks he can make it up to God by turning over a new leaf and trying harder. But the king is moved not by the slave's absurd promise, but by compassion. This is the heart of the gospel. God's grace is not a response to our ability to pay, but a response to our utter inability. The king does something shocking. He doesn't just give him more time; he forgave him the debt. He cancels it entirely. Wipes the slate clean. This is justification. The debt is not ignored; it is absorbed by the king. It is a pure act of grace, unearned and undeserved.

28-30 “But that slave went out and found one of his fellow slaves who owed him one hundred denarii; and he seized him and began to choke him, saying, ‘Pay back what you owe.’ So, his fellow slave fell to the ground and was pleading with him, saying, ‘Have patience with me and I will repay you.’ But he was unwilling and went and threw him in prison until he should pay back what was owed.”

The scene shifts dramatically. The recipient of staggering mercy now becomes a perpetrator of petty cruelty. He finds a fellow slave who owes him one hundred denarii. A denarius was a day's wage. So this was about three or four months' pay. It was a real debt, but compared to the ten thousand talents, it was pocket change. It was a ratio of something like 600,000 to 1. And notice his violence; he seized him and began to choke him. This is the ugliness of an unforgiving heart. What is most damning is that his fellow slave uses the exact same posture and the exact same words: he falls to the ground and pleads, "Have patience with me and I will repay you." In his case, the promise was actually plausible. But the forgiven slave was unwilling. He refused mercy and demanded justice, throwing the man in prison. He had just been given a universe of grace, and he refused to give a thimbleful in return.

31-33 “So, when his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were deeply grieved and came and reported to their lord all that had happened. Then summoning him, his lord said to him, ‘You wicked slave, I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not also have had mercy on your fellow slave, in the same way that I had mercy on you?’”

The injustice is so flagrant that others notice and are deeply grieved. There is a righteous indignation that rises up when grace is scorned. They report it to the king, who summons the wicked slave. The king's words are a thunderclap. You wicked slave. His wickedness is defined by his refusal to show mercy after having received so much mercy. The king lays out the logic of grace: "I forgave you an immeasurable debt. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave?" The expectation is clear. The grace you receive is the grace you are to give. The mercy shown to you is the pattern for the mercy you must show to others. This is the engine of Christian ethics. We love because He first loved us. We forgive because He first forgave us.

34 “And his lord, moved with anger, handed him over to the torturers until he should repay all that was owed him.”

The king's compassion turns to white-hot anger. The forgiveness is, in effect, revoked. He is handed over to the torturers until he pays the original debt. And since the original debt was unpayable, this is a sentence of eternal punishment. This is a hard saying, and many stumble here. Does this mean we can lose our salvation? Not at all. A truly regenerate person cannot lose their salvation. Rather, the parable teaches that the unforgiving heart is the definitive sign of an unregenerate heart. The man's refusal to forgive proved that he had never truly understood or received the king's mercy in the first place. His initial "repentance" was just fear of consequences, not a true change of heart. He was all law, no grace. His actions revealed his true nature, and the king's final judgment was therefore perfectly just.

35 “My heavenly Father will also do the same to you, if each of you does not forgive his brother from your hearts.”

Jesus brings the parable home with a direct and solemn application. This isn't just a story; it's a warning. This is how the Father deals with those who profess His name but refuse to live by His grace. The final phrase is crucial: from your hearts. This is not about mechanically mouthing the words "I forgive you." This is about a deep, internal, genuine release of the debt. It is a forgiveness that flows from a heart that has been broken and healed by the gospel. A heart that knows it has been forgiven ten thousand talents cannot, in the end, choke a brother over a hundred denarii. If you find that you can, you have every reason to examine yourself and question whether you have ever truly been to the cross at all.

Application

The application of this parable is as sharp as a surgeon's scalpel. It cuts right to the heart of our Christian profession. We live in a world that is awash in bitterness, resentment, and score-keeping. The church is called to be a colony of heaven, a place where a different economy is at work, the economy of grace.

First, we must be perpetually stunned by the magnitude of our own forgiveness. Our sin against God is the ten-thousand-talent debt. Every sin you have ever committed, in thought, word, and deed, against an infinitely holy God, is an astronomical offense. Until you feel the weight of that, you will always treat the sins of others against you as a big deal. The gospel frees us from this by showing us that our massive debt has been paid in full by Christ. Sanctification is largely the process of getting used to our justification.

Second, this means that our forgiveness of others must be radical and without limit. When someone sins against you, the debt they incur is always, without exception, the one-hundred-denarii debt. It is real, but it is trivial in comparison to what you have been forgiven. Therefore, to withhold forgiveness is an act of profound hypocrisy. It is to say to God, "Your grace is sufficient for me, but it is not sufficient for the person who hurt me."

Finally, we must understand that an unforgiving spirit is a spiritual danger of the highest order. It is not a minor character flaw. Jesus treats it as evidence of an unregenerate state. If you are harboring bitterness, if you are clinging to a grudge, if you are refusing to forgive your brother from the heart, you are playing with hellfire. The lack of forgiveness is not the sin that sends you to hell, but it is the clear symptom that you have never accepted the only cure for sin, which is the free grace of God in Jesus Christ. Therefore, let us be a people who, because we have been forgiven much, love much and forgive much, all to the glory of God.