Forgiven So That We May Forgive (Matthew 18:23–35)

Forgiven So That We May Forgive

(A Reflection on Matthew 18:23–35)

The Gospel appointed for the 11th Sunday after Pentecost is Matthew 18:23– 35, the parable commonly called the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant. It is one of Christ’s clearest teachings about the relationship between receiving mercy and showing mercy.

A king decides to settle accounts with his servants. One servant owes him an unimaginably great debt, far beyond his ability to repay. Facing judgment, the servant falls down and begs for patience. The king does something far greater than the man requests: moved with compassion, he forgives the entire debt.The servant walks away free.

Yet almost immediately he finds a fellow servant who owes him a much smaller sum. When that man falls before him and asks for patience, using essentially the same plea that the first servant had just made before the king, the forgiven servant refuses. He demands payment and has his fellow servant imprisoned.

The tragedy of the parable is not simply that the servant behaved badly. It is that he received mercy without allowing mercy to change him.

That is why this Gospel reaches directly into our own spiritual lives. Every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer we say, “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” We are asking to receive something from God that we simultaneously promise to extend toward others.

The Greek Orthodox Archdiocese, reflecting on this parable, emphasizes precisely this relationship: the servant received forgiveness for an enormous debt but refused mercy over a comparatively small one. Christian forgiveness begins with remembering how greatly we ourselves have been forgiven.

Saint John Chrysostom likewise points to the servant’s terrible contradiction: after receiving the remission of an overwhelming debt simply by asking, he demanded satisfaction from his fellow servant. His failure was a failure to allow the loving-kindness he had received to become the pattern of his own life.

Forgiveness, however, should not be confused with pretending that evil did not occur. Christ does not teach us to call wrongdoing good, nor does forgiveness necessarily remove every consequence of another person’s actions. Forgiveness means that we refuse to make resentment, hatred, and vengeance the masters of our hearts. We entrust judgment to God and ask Him to heal what sin has wounded.

Sometimes that healing comes slowly. We may discover that although our lips say, “I forgive,” our mind repeatedly returns to the injury. In such moments, forgiveness becomes an ascetical struggle. We pray for the person. We resist rehearsing the offense. We confess our anger. We ask Christ to give us the mercy we do not yet possess.

This is possible because God’s mercy comes first. Orthodox teaching does not present forgiveness as a payment by which we purchase God’s favor. God Himself acts in love to reconcile and restore us; our repentance is our response to that gracious initiative. Having received mercy, we are called to become merciful.

The unforgiving servant wanted two different standards: mercy for himself and strict judgment for someone else. Christ exposes that temptation in every human heart.

The Gospel therefore asks us a searching question: Is there someone whose debt we are still clutching in our hands?

Perhaps we cannot erase the memory. Perhaps reconciliation is not presently possible. But we can begin by placing that person before Christ and praying, “Lord, have mercy on them—and have mercy on me.”

For the person who knows how much he has been forgiven can gradually learn the freedom of forgiving others.

From the St. Panteleimon Orthodox Christian Outreach bulletin for August 16, 2026.