"The Kingdom of Heaven Looks like...Forgiveness" - Matthew 18:21-35 - September 13, 2026

So listen now to the word of God from Matthew.

Then Peter came and said to him, Lord, if my brother or sister sins against me, how often should I forgive?

As many as seven times?

Jesus said to him, Not seven times, but I tell you, seventy-seven or seventy times seven times.

For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wishes to settle accounts with his slaves.

When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him, and as he could not pay, the Lord ordered him to be sold together with his wife and children and all his possessions and payment to be made.

So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.

And out of pity for him, the Lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt.

But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii.

And seizing him by the throat, he said, Pay me what you owe.

And then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, Have patience with me, and I will pay you.

But he refused.

Then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt.

When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place.

Then his Lord summoned him and said to him, You wicked slave, I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me.

Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave as I had mercy on you?

And in anger his Lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt.

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

This is the word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

Now you may notice this odd image up on the screen.

It's a work of art called Seventy Times Seven by an artist named Martha Vaughan.

This particular image hangs in the main office of First Presbyterian Church in Wilmington.

I had my friend Elizabeth take the picture this week from the office, which is why there's a glare.

And interesting, another copy of the same image, you'll see this is like number two.

The first copy hangs in the office of a pastor colleague of mine named Betsy Sweetenberg, who's at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Greensboro.

So this little work of art has made its way into at least two Presbyterian churches here in North Carolina.

I understand there are at least a few more in people's homes because it had been a youth fundraiser item at First Press Wilmington a while back.

And when you look at this, it's very interesting.

What you see are 490 tally marks, which is, if you know your math, 70 times seven.

They begin neatly up at the top, bundled into groups of five, just like my second grade teacher taught me to do when I was a kid.

Four marks and then a fifth one crossing through them.

There's 14 bundles of five, makes 70 marks in each row.

At first it looks almost orderly, but the story behind these marks makes the picture much more interesting to look at.

Now, this artist had a young family member who was actually Betsy Sweetenberg's aunt and namesake, Betsy, who was killed in a drunk driving accident when she was about 21 years old.

And in the aftermath of that terrible loss, the artist found herself trying to do something that I think most of us would find almost impossible.

She was trying to forgive the person who had caused it.

And in the process of that grief and loss was, as anyone would expect, a long one.

She met with her pastors, went to grief share groups, did all the things you do in grief.

And as would be natural, every time she heard the name of the driver who had taken the life of her friend and family member, she found herself filled with rage, an overwhelming desire to see, to get even.

So she knew her, but she knew her faith, and very early on she made a decision that she would forgive the driver who had taken the life of her friend.

And so she let go of the rage.

But then she'd hear his name again, and the rage would all come flooding back.

She'd have to start the process all over again and again and again.

So she went to her pastor and asked, How do I forgive?

And her pastor answered, Every time you feel yourself wanting to get even and don't, you're already doing it.

So she discovered that forgiveness wasn't something she could simply decide to do once and be finished with.

She would have to make the decision to forgive again and again.

The anger would come back, she would think about what happened, hear the person's name, remember the loss, and once again she would have to make the decision to forgive.

So she began keeping tally marks.

Every time she found herself having to choose forgiveness, again she made another mark.

If you look at this image, you can see what started to happen.

At the beginning, the marks are neat and organized, you can count them, but as you move down the page, they get darker and longer, they overlap, they become more frantic, more chaotic.

Eventually, they all seem to run together into this dark anguished line.

And I think that's part of what makes this image so powerful, because forgiveness isn't always a clean decision that we make once.

Sometimes we forgive someone on a Monday, and on Tuesday we're angry all over again.

Sometimes we forgive the same offense ten times or a hundred times.

Sometimes we spend years learning how to forgive something that happened in a moment.

Peter's question in Matthew is fascinating because on the surface he's being very generous.

If another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive?

As many as seven times?

He's not asking, do I really have to forgive?

He's asking how many times do I have to forgive?

Seven's a pretty generous number.

Peter may even think he's figured out the spiritual answer to the question.

Someone hurts me once, I'll forgive them twice, I'll forgive them three, four, five, six, seven times.

Surely that's enough.

That's where these tally marks become such a powerful image.

Because that's how we often think of forgiveness.

We keep track of it.

We remember the number of times someone disappointed us, the number of times we've had the same argument, the number of apologies we've had to accept, the number of chances we've given.

And underneath Peter's question is really another question.

When do I get to stop?

When am I justified in saying, that's it, I'm done?

But Jesus answers, not seven times, but 77 times.

Or as the traditional translation puts it, 70 times seven.

And suddenly Peter's nice, manageable little system falls apart.

Because Jesus isn't saying, Peter, the magic number is 490.

He's saying, Peter, you're still thinking about this as a tally.

So that's where Martha's drawing is interesting because she actually did keep a tally.

She was trying to forgive the person responsible for the death of someone she loved.

And every time she found herself wanting to get even, she had to make the choice again and put another mark, another act of forgiveness, another prayer, another decision not to let anger have the final word.

And so those 490 marks aren't really saying, look how many times this person forgave.

They're saying, look how hard it can be to forgive.

That's an important distinction.

Because Jesus isn't trivializing Peter's question.

He's not saying, oh, forgiveness is easy, just forgive and move on.

This painting tells us otherwise.

Because forgiveness can be costly, repetitive, exhausting works.

Sometimes you just have to forgive someone once, or someone, sometimes you're trying to forgive the same thing every morning for years.

Sometimes the person hasn't changed.

Sometimes the circumstances haven't changed.

Sometimes that wound is still there.

And yet you keep making that little choice.

I will not let this anger consume me.

I will not seek revenge.

I will not allow what happened to determine who I become.

Just when we think the passage is going to be about our work of forgiveness, though, Jesus sort of changes the subject.

He tells a parable.

And listen carefully to how he introduces it because it has to do with our theme.

For this reason, the kingdom of heaven may be compared to synonormous clue.

Jesus isn't merely giving Peter a rule about forgiveness.

He's saying, Peter, let me show you what God's kingdom looks like or doesn't look like.

And then we meet this king, and the first thing the king does is settle accounts, and that's important because Peter's been talking about keeping accounts, keeping track of how many times you forgive.

So the king starts with the books and the tallies, and he finds a servant who owes him 10,000 talents.

That's a lot.

That's an impossible amount.

This isn't a debt that the servant can just work off.

It's not a matter of giving him another six months of work or waiting around.

It's not seven payments or 77 payments or even 490 payments.

There is no way this debt can be repaired.

And the servant knows this.

He falls down and he says, Have patience with me, be have patience with me, and I will pay you everything, which is pretty laughable.

He can't pay it.

Or the king doesn't ask him to.

What does he do with his newfound freedom?

He immediately finds someone who owes him money.

And not very much money either.

He starts keeping accounts again.

The servant has received forgiveness, but he hasn't allowed that forgiveness to change him.

He's experienced the kingdom of heaven, but he hasn't learned to live according to the logic of that kingdom.

The king says the debt is forgiven, but the servant says, But you still owe me.

And suddenly Peter's original question comes back into the story.

Peter wants to know how many times I have to forgive.

And the servant's behavior gives us the opposite answer.

How many times do I get to keep score?

That's what the parable exposes.

Peter is worried about the number of times he has to forgive, but Jesus is concerned about the kind of person Peter is becoming.

So, as hard as it might be, God calls us to refuse to punch back, refuses to uh take a posture, to take a posture of conciliation, because that is how we get to peace.

We do this because there's never been a person in the world, including you, who does not need forgiveness.

Well, that's not exactly true.

Once upon a time, there was just one who did not need forgiveness, and as the story goes, he has already forgiven you, right where you need it the most.

Jesus says, the kingdom of heaven may be compared to.

And then he describes a world in which an impossible debt is forgiven.

So the kingdom of heaven looks like mercy.

It looks like release.

It looks like grace that we did not earn.

And then Jesus asks, What happens when people who have received that kind of grace begin to live with one another?

That's where the second servant fails.

He has received mercy but refuses to extend it.

He has been released from an impossible debt, but immediately puts another person back into debt.

He's been given freedom, but continues to live like a person keeping score.

And that's what Jesus is really asking Peter to understand.

Forgiveness isn't simply something you do, it's something that forms you.

Mark the Vaughn's picture doesn't end with one beautiful clean mark that says, And now I have forgiven.

It gets messier.

Because forgiveness is messy.

Relationships are messy.

Being human is messy.

But somewhere in all those tangled marks is a person choosing again and again to not let hatred have the final word.

Peter wanted to know how many times he had to forgive.

Jesus wanted Peter to imagine a different kind of kingdom.

A kingdom where we don't keep score, where debts can be released.

A kingdom where mercy is more powerful than revenge.

A kingdom where people who have received grace learn to become gracious.

A kingdom that looks like forgiveness.