Forgiveness Beyond the Numbers
Original sermon given on The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost, September 13, 2026 written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
Watch the sermon live.
“Forgiveness Beyond the Numbers”
Matthew 18.21-35
Forgiveness Beyond the Numbers
In the name of the Living God and the risen Christ. Amen.
The parable of the unmerciful servant — by the numbers:
10,000 — the number & worth of silver talents he’s forgiven by the king.
650,000 — our equivalent weight in pounds of silver (that’s 300 metric tons of silver)
$676,000,000 — the price for 300 metric tons worth of silver, as of the writing of this sermon on Friday
100 denarii — the amount the same servant refuses in turn to forgive — about three months of wages for a day laborer
$8,100 — three months of pay at minimum wage in the City of Chicago
600,000 to 1 — the ratio of what the servant is forgiven and what he refuses to forgive
490 — The times Jesus says we must forgive, according to some older translations (seventy times seven)
77 — The much more manageable number we must forgive, according to more accurate modern translations (whew!)
3 — the greatest number of times you were obligated to forgive, according to the rabbis of Jesus’ day
1 — person in the parable who refuses to live graciously, even though he’s been given so much grace
I introduce the parable of the unmerciful servant “by the numbers” not just because the accountants and economists in our congregation deserve a welcome a break from my endless literary references, but to illustrate the ridiculous nature of the parable. The parables of Jesus are “earthly stories with heavenly meanings,” according to a nice Sunday School definition. But especially in Matthew, they often come with a dramatic twist — or a sudden, unexpected turn at the end.
The dramatic twist in today’s reading comes not in its context — kings loaned servants money; servants were called to give account of their stewardship; people and indeed whole families could be “sold” into indentured servanthood work off their debt; debtor’s prisons existed for the worst malefactors. The twist comes not in the context, but in the contrast: the ridiculous disparity between what the unmerciful man receives, and what he in turn delivers.
Consider these contrasts. First, of course, is the amount: $656,000,000 versus about $8,000 (the accountants can correct my math during the church picnic after the service today). The point is the enormity of grace he’s received verses the petty amount he refuses to forgive.
Contrast number 2: the unforgiving servant is dragged before a king, falling before him, begging for leniency, whereas he approaches in turn a fellow who is servant to the same king.
Contrast number 3: notice that the king, filled with deep mercy and compassion, gives the man even more grace than he asks or deserves. The servant only seeks more time to pay what is owed; the king forgives all of it. In contrast, the unmerciful servant goes and seeks out his fellow servant, grabbing him around the neck, demanding he pay all of it, immediately. The king gave him abundantly more than was asked — not just patience, but complete forgiveness. But the same man gave abundantly less than we might expect — neither patience nor forgiveness.
This is, of course, a parable, and as such it’s a story to convey a point rather than give us exacting instructions on every aspect on the Christian life. So, it’s important to point out what the parable is not saying. First, it doesn’t mean that we are to submit ourselves to continuous wrong regardless of consequences. Repentance is required. Change of heart is expected. Assertion of our own rights and validation of our own feelings is permitted. I cringe at the misuse of this parable, especially with regards to abuse situations. No, Jesus is not saying that we cannot protect ourselves or others from grievous wrongs; or that we can never feel deeply hurt, or terribly angry, or really frustrated and disappointed.
Here, the distinction between forgiveness and trust might be helpful. Forgiveness is freely given — it is to not hold this sin against someone’s soul. Trust, however, is earned. We can forgive someone, while also remaining realistic about the difficulty of rebuilding a relationship.
The parable is also not saying you’re going to hell unless you completely forgive all wrongs, ever committed against you. No, our best efforts at forgiveness will always be imperfect, just as all aspects of our Christian walk are imperfect. Here, we must always cling to the righteousness of Christ, who though perfect bore all our imperfections in his body on the tree; who, having every right for retribution, refused to return evil for evil. There are times when we have to let Christ do the forgiving for us, while our own bitter hearts remain a work in progress.
But the parable is teaching something. And it is meant to convict us. And I hope that it convicts you this morning too. It calls us as Christians, who live under such abundant grace, to therefore also live lives of graciousness towards others. It calls us to forgiveness “beyond the numbers.”
We know how messed up this world of sin is. And we know our own participation in it and the irrational power of sin over all of us. Our own sin causes others to sin, and then they respond in retribution, and then we respond in kind, and the whole of life deteriorates into a tit for tat, this for that cycle of bitterness. Have you ever been there?
And we know that the solution is not found in us — this world’s endless retributions and recriminations have no hope of fixing themselves. The solution is found only in the cross of Jesus. At the cross, God interposes through his son an abundant, extravagant, even ridiculous mercy for all of mankind. Christians wonder at this incredible grace; believe beyond belief that it’s for us too. But we also live lives of charity and forgiveness to others because of this grace.
We might ask the question in a rather pointed way: what are the consequences of not taking Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness seriously? That is: what happens if we don’t pay attention to the parable. What would life look like?
First, this would mean living a life of incessant score keeping — the petty number tracking and tallying: what they did to you years ago; how much it hurt, but you can’t let it go; what you should have had coming; your rights, what you think you really deserve; how unfairly you were treated; how wronged you’ve been compared to others. The parable wipes away all our petty numbers games, and asks us to consider one thing: how much grace have you been given by God? How might that change all your petty score keeping and move you to forgive beyond the numbers?
Second, not taking the parable seriously or Jesus’ call to forgive earnestly leads to a self-restricting life — a life of spiritual strangulation, we might say. In the parable, the unforgiving man grabs his fellow servant around the neck, refusing to let him go. The Greek is quite dramatic — he’s continually strangling him.
By forgiving, we are setting someone else free — loosing them, releasing them through the power of Jesus. But we are also freeing ourselves — releasing the constricting need for our own justice or vengeance or retribution. Perhaps today can be that day for you — to finally just give it all over to Christ and finally be free. Isn’t it time to stop keeping score?
Not taking Christ’s call to forgiveness seriously has a third consequence. It is an implicit denial of the power of the value of Christ’s sacrifice — as if his work of redemption is not enough. Now, we would never say explicitly that the work of our savior on the cross is insufficient to forgive sins. But we sure do live that way — sometimes with regards to ourselves, but especially with regards to other’s wrongs. As one commentator put it, “A community of the forgiven must be a forgiving community.”[1]
Fourthly, what are the consequences of not taking Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness seriously? It is to place yourself as judge above God, to take his seat as king. You then become the final arbiter over sin and distributer of grace. Is this what you really want? Do you know all things? Can you discern perfectly people’s motives? Can you plumb the depths of every hurtful situation? Can you measure people’s pain, or know why they reacted the way they did? Can you see into the human heart? Are you the one to weigh and adjust the scales of justice? No, the gospel compels us to give over to God the responsibility to judge rightly, to dispense mercy graciously, and to discern perfectly the matters of the human heart. My job is to realize how much amazing grace I’ve been given and to live a life of equal graciousness to others — especially in matters I don’t fully understand or can never comprehend.
My friends, Jesus gives us a hard parable about living a life of forgiveness “beyond the numbers.” Today, we are reminded that he bore not his sins, but ours on the cross. That he has forgiven not just a certain number, but all people. That his grace is given to the undeserving, not the deserving. That his gift is not just for life in this world, but for an eternity of grace. Because of what he has done, we have been promised an ultimate resurrection, an ultimate restoration, and an ultimate reconciliation. May we begin living today, the way we’ll live in eternity.
[1] France, The Gospel of Matthew, 702
Image Source: JESUS MAFA. The Unforgiving Servant, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt University Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://act.library.vanderbilt.edu/artworks/48396 [retrieved September 15, 2026]. Original source: http://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr (contact page: https://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr/contact).
