Christians Take Forgiveness Personally

Christians Take Forgiveness Personally
Pastor Pete Metzger

Matthew 18:15-20

15 “If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over. 16 But if they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.’ 17 If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church; and if they refuse to listen even to the church, treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector.

18 “Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.

19 “Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. 20 For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”

Christians Take Forgiveness Personally

About 6 years ago, a documentary was released on Netflix called The Last Dance. It followed the Chicago Bulls during the 1997-98 NBA season, with a focus on Michael Jordan’s role in bringing a sixth championship to the city of Chicago in eight years. There aren’t many stories in any sport that detail such sustained success. It’s hard enough to get to the finals at all, let alone 2 years in a row, let alone win 6 of 8.

But as amazing as the success was, it was the character of Michael Jordan that captured viewers’ attention. He told a story about sitting down at a fancy restaurant the night before a game, and the coach of the team he was about to play was sitting two or three tables away. That coach finished his meal before Jordan did and walked out of the restaurant without going out of his way to greet him, and infamously, in the documentary, Jordan explained, “And I took that personally.” Michael Jordan viewed that coach’s actions as an intentional snub, and he used it as motivation to win, which, to his credit, he did.

You and I might sit on our couches and watch a 60-year-old Jordan hold a 30-year-old grudge and think him petty and small – and I think rightfully so – but it was exactly that pettiness that inspired greatness in a competitor of Jordan’s calibre. Spite motivated him to championship-level success. And many athletes in many sports have attempted to channel that same energy in order to experience the same success.

I’m not breaking any news when I tell you that you are not Michael Jordan. And it shouldn’t come as a surprise when I say that you’re not vying for a national championship. So, why are you taking it personally?

Jesus began our Gospel for today by proposing a hypothetical scenario: If your brother or sister sins…[1] That’s probably the least iffy “if” you’ll find in Scripture. This is the world we live in. It’s the air we breathe. Everyone sins all the time, and often against us. It can be malicious, e.g. your rival spreading lies about you, or it can be completely unintentional and yet just as painful, e.g. when the person you thought cared about you, forgot you in your moment of need, which makes you justifiably question their level of love for you at all.

Your brother and sister will sin, and often at your expense. But you are not Michael Jordan and you’re not trying to win your 6th national championship. Taking it personally will do nobody any good. In fact, it will do everybody considerable spiritual harm, and you will lose the one thing God wants you to win.

If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over.[2]

This is the first of a simple 4-step method Jesus lays out for us to win our sinful brother or sister over. Step 1: Go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. Proactive and private. You don’t publish it on the first page of the newspaper. You don’t wait for them to make the first move. You go and talk to them privately.

If that doesn’t work – if they’re not sorry for how they’ve sinned – Jesus gives a second step: If they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.’[3] If proactive and private doesn’t work, don’t give up, bring backup. Bring someone with another perspective to overcome personality clashes, provide clarity of communication, and to express the seriousness of the situation.

If that doesn’t work – if they’re still not sorry – Jesus gives a third step: If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church.[4] Bring out the big guns. Get the pastor and faith community involved. Now it’s not a matter of he-said-she-said, and it’s not something they can dismiss as unserious. This is a big deal.

And if that still doesn’t work, if they refuse to listen even to the church, treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector.[5] In other words, expel them from your fellowship. Treat them as if they are currently – but not irrevocably – outside the kingdom of God, because they are. That’s what impenitent sin will do, i.e. it will disqualify you from heaven. And that’s why God is so clear about what we’re trying to win – not the argument, not the court of public opinion, but our fellow believer’s soul and life.

For such a complex issue like a fellow believer sinning, the process is relatively simple – just 4 steps. It’s easy! That’s why you’re so good at it. You don’t hold grudges. You don’t get frustrated when people fail their responsibilities. You don’t take it personally when someone looks you in the eye and lies to you or betrays you or undermines you. You live a perfectly conflict-free, peaceful life because you follow Jesus’ simple, 4-step process for how to handle other people’s sin.

Or, maybe, like the rest of us, you live in the real world. Forget 6 championships. Forget the 4th step. How many times have you stumbled over the first one? Proactive and private, remember? That’s not our human nature. To be proactive, I’d have to be willing to let go, i.e. I’d have to not take it personally when someone else sins against me. To be proactive, you can’t play the victim, i.e. you can’t wait for them to make the first step and come to you. You have to go.

And you have to keep it just between the two of you, which means the first step you take can’t be to your spouse or your best friend to tell them about how this other person did you wrong. It means you swallow the words you know are true but will nevertheless harm that person’s reputation – even if they deserve it – because, despite the fact that they’ve sinned against you, you’re still supposed to love them like a brother or sister.

That first step is a doozy. The others aren’t any easier. Persisting. Bringing backup. Involving the church, only after the first two steps have been taken, but still doing it and not avoiding it because it’ll be hard.

And finally, there’s the whole pagan and tax collector of it all. That’s probably the hardest line to walk – making it clear that the sinner is outside the kingdom, while at the same time making it clear that you still love them and want them to be inside God’s family.

It may be relatively straightforward on the page. It rarely plays out that way in life. Instead of winning our brother or sister over, we try to win the argument and end up losing a member of the family of Christ. But as I read this text, that’s the beauty of Jesus’ message: If your brother or sister sins…[6] We are all sinners, but we’re all family, because Jesus loved sinners so much that he took it personally.

Jesus loved even those who were once outside his kingdom, i.e. pagans and tax collectors. Who wrote the Gospel we’re reading today? It was Matthew. Do you know what Matthew’s job was? He was a tax collector. In chapter 9, Matthew tells us about that day – that Jesus proactively approached Matthew at his tax collector’s booth and said, “Follow me,” and then Jesus followed Matthew to his home, where he sat down and ate a meal with many other tax collectors and sinners.

The Pharisees didn’t understand. “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”[7] To which Jesus responded, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick… I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”[8]

Jesus came to call sinners. He came to call you to repentance for all the sins you’ve committed – whether you pridefully refuse to forgive those who’ve sinned against you or you fail to even try. Jesus came for you. He didn’t play the victim or take your sin personally. He didn’t walk away or give up on you. He didn’t wait for you to make up for what you’ve done wrong. He proactively left heaven to come to earth to forgive you.

He went to the cross to die for you, and he made the world his witness. Even his enemies were there to attest to the truth. Jesus was a man of his word. When he said he loved you, he meant it to the point of death. When he promised to redeem you, he did it at the expense of his life. He called on his Father to forgive your sin, and it is as true today as it will be in heaven.

Because now you are his brother. By his death and resurrection, by your belief in the proclamation of this gospel, he has adopted you into his family. His Father is your Father. And we are all spiritual brothers and sisters, bought by his blood and bound to spend an eternity together in heaven, because he took our forgiveness personally.

Which is why he wants you to take forgiveness personally too. There’s more at stake than a national championship. The souls of our brothers and sisters are on the line. And God has entrusted to you this precious privilege of announcing the forgiveness of their sins – even and especially when those sins are against you.

It boggles the mind. It’s the last thing we’d expect – that of all people, God would want to involve us; and that of all the things that could possibly make a difference, it’s our words that are as effective in heaven as they are on earth. But it’s exactly as it should be, because as sinners ourselves, there’s no high horse for us to mount. We know the value of forgiveness, because we need it and have received it in Jesus. And it really should come as no surprise that our words would be as effective in heaven as they are on earth, because they’re not our words – they’re Jesus’ words that we relay to our brothers and sisters, i.e. our spiritual family in Christ.

You are not Michael Jordan, and you’re not vying for a championship. So, don’t be petty and small. Don’t take sin personally. Take forgiveness personally, because that’s exactly what Jesus did for you. He died for you 2,000 years ago and then he sent some sinner to tell you about it, so that you could know that it’s as true in heaven as it is here and now. Now go and win – not championships, but souls – knowing that Christ, your Saviour, goes with you wherever you and your spiritual siblings go. Amen.


[1] Matthew 18:15

[2] Ibid

[3] Matthew 18:16

[4] Matthew 18:17

[5] Ibid

[6] Matthew 18:15

[7] Matthew 9:11

[8] Matthew 9:12,13

The Cross: It's in the Job Description

The Cross: It's in the Job Description
Vicar Owen Eubank

Matthew 16:21-26

21 From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.

22 Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. “Never, Lord!” he said. “This shall never happen to you!”

23 Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.”

24 Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 25 For whoever wants to save their life[a] will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. 26 What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?

The Cross: It’s in the Job Description

Six years ago, I began studying to be a pastor. While there were doubts and concerns along the way, what I feared the most during those years of school was my vicar year. It was a fear of the unknown. The classroom was familiar; the homework was manageable. What do vicars even do? Am I going to like the work, or will it crush me? What am I getting myself into?  That’s what makes job descriptions so helpful: they tell you exactly what to expect, so that you’re mentally prepared when the time comes to actually do the job. Over the past year, the Seminary gave us tons of information about vicar year. Once I got the call here to St. Peter, the details got even more specific. What a relief to have a job description! Vicar year became less of an unknown, and many of my fears melted away. 

In our Gospel for this Sunday, Jesus lays out his own job description. Last Sunday, we heard Peter confess that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God. He’s the Anointed One, whom prophets foretold would save mankind from sin. Peter and the other disciples knew who Jesus was and what his goal was, but they didn’t quite understand how he would carry out the salvation of God’s people.  

So Jesus told them. “[The Messiah] must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.” This shocked the disciples. They thought, “What is Jesus talking about? There’s no way that’s right. The Messiah is supposed to destroy our enemies, not let our enemies destroy him! He’s supposed to bring us glory and fame, peace and security–not suffer and die! We can’t let this happen.” So Peter stepped up to say something, as he so often does. He took Jesus aside, put his arm around him, and told him that he’s got it all wrong. “Yes, Jesus, you’re the Messiah, and that means you’re never going to suffer and die. That just wouldn’t make sense.” 

But there’s the problem. To the human mind, it’s unreasonable for the Saviour of the world to suffer and die. “Skip the cross, Jesus; go straight into glory. You’re the almighty Son of God, after all! Why would you need to do any suffering.” We might even sympathize with Peter: “He’s just thinking about Jesus’ safety. Why would he want his Lord to die?” But Peter missed the bigger picture. What seemed like reasonable thinking on Peter’s part is actually satanic. Jesus stepped away from Peter and rebuked him in front of everyone: “Get behind me, Satan!” One of his closest friends had become an agent of the devil. Here, Peter isn’t the Rock, who gave a solid confession of faith last week: he’s become a stumbling block in the path to the cross, an opponent to God’s eternal plan of salvation! Peter doesn’t realize that he’s asking for his damnation and the damnation of the world. If Jesus doesn’t go to Jerusalem and die on the cross, then we would still be lost in our sins. It does no good to confess Jesus as the Messiah yet reject the saving work he came to do on the cross. 

How often do we act like Peter, pretending to know better than God? Don’t we also slip into a human mindset at times, one that only accepts God’s plans as long as they bring us comfort and glory? As long as life is going well, we happily give God control. But what happens when our lives take a turn for the worse? Do we still trust God then? In those moments, Satan takes us aside, puts his arm around us, and makes us doubt God. “What kind of God allows his people to suffer? If he loved you, he would prevent this evil from entering your life.” When we start to doubt God’s plans, our arrogant hearts need to hear Jesus’ rebuke: “Get behind me. You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” Who are we to give advice to God? If our salvation rested on human reason, we would surely be lost. Our plans would never include any suffering, but we needed a suffering Messiah. 

And that’s exactly what we have in Jesus. No matter what his disciples thought about him, no matter how his best friends betrayed him, no matter what Satan was whispering in his ear, Jesus never abandoned his true job description. He always and only had in mind the concerns of his Father. God had repeatedly promised a Saviour from sin, and Jesus was fully aware of the necessity of his death on the cross. He didn’t go begrudgingly to Jerusalem, but out of love for us, he willingly took our sins to the cross to pay the price for them. In our obedient Messiah, we have forgiveness for our arrogance, for our rejection of God’s will in our lives. We have eternal peace and comfort for our souls because Jesus gave up the peace and comfort of heaven to suffer and die in our place. 

But that doesn’t mean we won’t have pain and suffering to bear in our lives. Just as the Messiah’s job description included a cross, the Christian job description also includes a cross. “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” There’s no way around it, no way to avoid it. If Christian, then cross.  

Does this intimidate you, dear Christians? A job description can take away your fear of the unknown, but it can also instill a different fear as you discover exactly what the job demands. Jesus certainly isn’t trying to scare you by talking about the Christian cross, but he is trying to clear up misunderstandings people have about discipleship. Many Christians have been misled about their job description. They hear a prosperity gospel every Sunday, and they expect that their faith will bring them glory and success in this life, much like Peter and the other disciples expected. But Jesus never says that following him will produce worldly wealth or fame or comfort. In reality, Christian discipleship costs us everything. We let go of everything to take up the cross and follow Jesus. 

This cross involves self-denial. Peter had been clinging to his personal vision of salvation. He wanted to involve himself in Jesus’ mission, to steer him in the right direction. Self-denial means letting go of everything that gets in the way of following Jesus. It could be wealth, possessions, concern for body and life, the idea that I have a role to play in my salvation. What it comes down to is denying yourself or denying Jesus, entrusting your salvation to him or trying to accomplish it yourself. It’s the cross that teaches us self-denial. 

To understand what Jesus means by “the cross,” think of a physical, wooden cross. Historians say that a full cross weighed 300 lbs, so that most could only carry the crossbeam, which was still up to 100 lbs. It took a lot of effort to pick up a cross. Likewise, Christianity demands your full commitment. There’s no such thing as “casual Christians,” who show up on Sunday but don’t practice their faith outside of church. Every day of their lives, Christians must carry the cross. Besides the physical torment of carrying a cross, you have emotional pain too. Crosses were reserved for the worst of criminals. It brought shame, causing people to mock and curse you, even if they didn’t know you or what you’d done. So too, your faith will not win you any favor with the world, but they will hate you because of it. Maybe you’ve been publicly embarrassed or lost friends or gave up jobs because you follow Jesus. Any persecution you face because of Jesus is a cross, physical or emotional. Finally, crosses were tools of execution. When you carried a cross, you were about to endure suffering to the point of death. Your head may not be on the block right now, but all Christians must be willing even to die for Jesus, who willingly died for us. 

I don’t know about the rest of you, but it can be a real struggle to deny myself and carry my cross. Deliberately bearing shame and suffering, being willing to give up everything, even my life–this goes against every instinct in my body. All too often, we only practice our faith when it’s convenient, when we won’t face persecution for it. If you don’t feel like you’ve been bearing any crosses lately, examine your heart and ask yourself why. Could it be that you’ve been avoiding the cross? If so, ask God to grant you a willing heart and the strength to pick up the cross. Maybe you look at your life and don’t see any opportunities to carry a cross. Praise God for this momentary rest, but be prepared to shoulder a heavier load that may come in the future. 

Whatever our crosses may be, God lays them on us to teach reliance on him. Against all human reason, we believe that the cross is good for us, that it drives a wedge between us and the sinful world and brings us closer to our Saviour. Our sinful nature desperately wants to drop it and run away, to spare ourselves the pain and save our lives at all costs. But when we suffer for our faith, then we know that we are really Jesus’ disciples. This is the Christian paradox: our persecutions bring us peace, because they assure us that we are following our Saviour. And when we see the path that Jesus trod, it’s not just the cross: there’s glory waiting at the end. By picking up our crosses and following Jesus, we too will find glory. Not the glory that the world gives, but the glory reserved for those who faithfully bear the cross: the glory of the resurrection and eternal life in heaven. Now we have the cross, but then we’ll have the glory. The cross makes us look like losers to the world, but we know that it’s the sign of victory, in this life and the next. 

So for now, your Christian job description says “cross-bearer.” But don’t worry if you’re afraid. You need only look to Jesus for comfort and confidence. Jesus will not deny those who deny themselves for his sake. Your salvation is complete. Entrust your life to him who gave up his life to save you, for he knows what’s best for you. Deny yourself, pick up your cross, and follow him. Though the path seems difficult, cheer up! Your cross brings you closer to your Saviour, and soon enough you will reach the promised glory. Amen.