Be Forgiven, and Forgive

There’s a saying that sometimes gets passed around in Christian circles that goes like this: “You are forgiven in order to forgive; you do not forgive in order to be forgiven.” 

At first, that saying sounds so right, like when a symphony orchestra is playing together in perfect harmony -- but then, as you listen more closely, your ear starts itching. Something is off -- but you can’t quite figure out where. (Is it the cello, or perhaps the viola?) 

So you run the phrase through your head again. Once again, it seems to check out at first glance. You call to mind passages of Scripture which, initially, affirm this saying. You remember Colossians 3:13, “as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive,” and you recall Ephesians 4:32, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” Everything seems to check out, you think. You are, surely, forgiven in order to forgive; you do not forgive in order to be forgiven. 

But you still have that strange feeling that something is wrong. 

And that’s when you remember your recent reading from Matthew 6. 

If You Do Not Forgive

Matthew 6:5-14 falls right in the middle of Christ’s Sermon on the Mount, and in those nine verses Jesus gives us some of the richest words on prayer that have ever been spoken. He tells us how we ought to pray (v. 5-6); he tells us how we shouldn’t pray (v. 7-8); and he gives us arguably the greatest prayer of all time in what we now call The Lord’s Prayer (v. 9-13).  

But then, Jesus closes his segment on prayer with this curious statement: “For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matthew 6:14-15, emphasis mine).

So, as it turns out, you actually do have to forgive others in order to be forgiven. 

Consider Our Forgiveness

Before we jump into why we must, indeed, forgive others in order to be forgiven, let us consider just how incredible it is that God has offered any of us forgiveness in the first place. 

Let’s suppose that a well-to-do friend of yours decides to leave you their mansion for a summer. They give you free-reign, so to speak; all they ask is that you simply take care of the place in their stead. Overjoyed, you move right in and make yourself at home. For a while, you relish the sheer grandeur of the manor: you take quiet walks in the garden, your meals are all prepared by professional chefs, and you binge watch lots of Top Gear (or perhaps The Great British Baking Show). 

But after a week of this, you decide that you’re bored and lonely. So you invite a group of your most raucous friends over for a party. You bring out all the best wine from the cellar, you lay out a veritable feast, and you and your friends have a wildly good time -- with an emphasis on wildly. When you wake up the next morning, you realize that there are dozens of shattered windows, the floor is wine-stained in countless spots, and a great deal of furniture has been torn up and destroyed. You’re just beginning to fully realize what happened last night, when suddenly someone walks through the front door. 

It’s the Queen of England.

As it turns out, you’ve just ravished Buckingham Palace. Now what are you going to do?

I’m sure you can see where this little illustration is going -- and I’ve no doubt that you can see where it breaks down at several points. “Are you saying that God’s forgiveness toward us is like the Queen forgiving someone for trashing Buckingham Palace?” 

Actually, the fact that God has offered us forgiveness is (literally) infinitely more astonishing than the Queen theoretically forgiving someone for wrecking the home of the British monarchy. Our father and mother, Adam and Eve, were entrusted not just with caring for one tiny palace, but with subduing all of Almighty God’s creation (Genesis 1:28). But they plunged all of the world (and their children along with it) into ruin and death when they reached out their hands to take eat the fruit of the forbidden tree. And we have followed in their sin ever since. 

But God neither destroyed nor abandoned Adam and Eve. He gave them a promise of hope -- a promise that came to fruition in the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ (Genesis 3:15, 2 Corinthians 5:21, Ephesians 1:7). When Christ offered himself up on the cross, his perfect blood was shed. As Thomas Aquinas once wrote, Christ’s blood is “Blood whereof a single drop has power to win / all the world forgiveness of its world of sin.”

Forgive, that You May Be Forgiven

So, when it’s all said and done, the worst thing that another human can do to us pales in comparison to what we’ve done to God. We desecrated his good and perfect world. We hung his only beloved Son on a Roman cross. And yet, through the death of his Son, God offered forgiveness to all who would believe in him. 

So then, if we have been forgiven “all our world of sin,” we must extend the same forgiveness to others. As Jesus once said in the parable of the unforgiving servant, if you’ve been graciously forgiven a debt of a billion dollars, but then you go and ruthlessly imprison the person who owes you a thousand dollars because they can’t pay it immediately -- well, let’s just say that your master will be displeased with you (Matthew 18:21-35).   

Back to that Symphony

So, back to our phrase: “You are forgiven in order to forgive; you do not forgive in order to be forgiven.” It is almost right, in that God must first forgive us for our sins before our forgiving of other sins makes any difference on the judgment day. Those who refuse to repent of their own sins may stand before the throne and say, “Lord, did we not forgive many people of the wrongs they committed against us?” And God will say, “Depart from me, for I never knew you.” But it is wrong, in that if we refuse to forgive others after putting our trust in Jesus, then our Father will not forgive our sins either.

As it turns out, God’s symphony of forgiveness is played in the key of C -- but the author of this phrase was trying to play out a violin solo a few cents flat of C#. On paper, it’s almost right -- which means that when it’s actually played, it’s horrendously wrong and throws off the entire symphony.

So receive the forgiveness of God which is offered freely in Christ. And then, go -- forgive as you have been forgiven.