And he said to his disciples, It cannot be but that offences come, but woe [to him] by whom they come!
Jesus turns from the crowd of Pharisees back to His own followers and warns them about stumbling‑blocks that are certain to come, yet bring a woe on whoever supplies them. So what counts as an "offence," why must such things come, and how do you avoid being the one who brings them?
The chapter break hides the flow of thought. One writer traces the change of audience, and the link with the rich man of the previous chapter:
The latter part of the previous chapter, verse 14 to the end, was spoken to the Pharisees. At the beginning of this chapter the Lord again addresses His disciples. The rich man had stumbled over his possessions into hell, and now the Lord tells His disciples that, the world being what it is, "offences," or occasions of stumbling are inevitable. The great thing is to avoid being an "offence" to anyone else, even to the least important. The consequences are so serious that anything is better than that.
The verse above calls these "temptations to sin"; older translations call them "offences." The word behind both means a trap set for someone's feet:
The same word is used for the snare that Balaam taught Balak to lay for the Israelites (Revelation 2:14). It is also the word used for the "offences," or snares, that must, by the nature of things, exist in the world for the feet of the saints — Matthew 18:7; Luke 17:1.
Another writer defines them by what they do to Christ's kingdom:
Offences are principles that clash with the nature of His kingdom and hold back its display. They are "obstructions and oppositions given to faith and holiness."
Jesus says such things must come. That is where people go wrong: they treat what is unavoidable as though it were acceptable.
Here Jesus plainly declares that offences must come — but does He therefore sanction or excuse the offence? He knew what was in man, and He predicts the sad result, but only to pronounce judgment against the one who brings it about.
Another writer puts the same balance in a single line:
Occasions of stumbling will indeed come: these are sad certainties in so sad a world. But that does not make them less serious, or easier to pass over.
A day is coming when the Son of man will clear every stumbling-block out of His kingdom. That day is not here yet, and the delay has a purpose:
Among those who professed to follow Him and His glory on the principles of faith, there would be, sadly, many causes of stumbling. This is not yet the reign of judicial power, when the Son of man will gather out of His kingdom every cause of stumbling and everyone who practises lawlessness. God permits Satan's power, and He requires the exercise of faith. This is a time when the spread of evil proves what lasts because it is of God.
The next verse names the price. One writer, quoting an older translation, presses it home:
"Offences are bound to come, but woe to the man through whom they come! It would be better for him to have a millstone hung around his neck and to be thrown into the sea, than to cause one of these little ones to stumble." I call on each one to listen to this. To offend one of these little ones is to be on the way to the judgment of the millstone… The Church of God is His little one — a nobody in the eyes of the world, but everything in the sight of God. You and I ought to watch out for any way of living that might make the little one stumble.
Most offences, one writer argues, grow out of one root failure:
Scripture teaches us that in the ages to come we are to show the surpassing riches of God's grace. Grace marks this present age, unlike the law that came before it, with its rule of the guardian (Galatians 3:24-25). What, then, can be so great a failure as failing in grace? That is why the Lord goes on with an emphatic "take heed to yourselves."
That warning cuts in two directions at once:
"Take heed," the Lord adds, "to yourselves" — both about not giving others an occasion to stumble, and about not stumbling yourself when the occasion comes, keeping your soul in patience and in communion.
- Snare. An "offence" is a trap — the same word used for the snare laid for Israel, and for whatever trips faith and holiness and holds back Christ's kingdom.
- Certain. In a world like this, snares are unavoidable. Christ predicts them, but He never excuses them.
- Permitted. He does not yet clear them away. This is a time when faith must act, and when evil proves what lasts because it is of God.
- Costly. Trip one of the little ones and you are on the road to the judgment of the millstone. The world counts them as nothing; God counts them as everything.
- Guarded. So "take heed to yourselves": do not fail in grace yourself, and do not stumble when others fail in it.
It would be [more] profitable for him if a millstone were hanged about his neck and he cast into the sea, than that he should be a snare to one of these little ones.
Jesus warns His disciples here about causing others to fall, and the picture He uses is violent: a millstone, a neck, the open sea. Who are these "little ones," and what does it mean to make one of them stumble?
The same saying appears in Matthew, and there one writer draws the line between wounding a believer's faith and speaking honestly to him:
What does this mean? Anything likely to shake their confidence in Christ, anything that puts a stumbling block in their way. It does not mean anything said in faithful love to their soul. People may take offence at that, but that is not what the Lord is speaking of here. It is whatever tends to shake the little one's confidence in God Himself.
The picture is not only about an ugly death. One writer sets it beside the fall of Babylon:
To make one of these little ones stumble is to be on the road to the judgment of the millstone. In Revelation 18, we see Babylon under that same judgment of the millstone. Here the Lord sees the same character in making a little one stumble.
Not everyone accepts that trade. One writer says so plainly, and still holds to it:
No doubt not everyone would agree that death is preferable to sin against God, but it is true.
The phrase does not describe a special class of weak people. It describes those the world writes off:
The Lord goes on to speak of these in a way that shows how earnestly He wants every stumbling block cleared away from the feet of the least of all. The people men despise for being small are the ones His tender compassion would give special care to, and He presses this now on His disciples.
Another writer widens it further, applying it to God's people as a whole in a world that counts them for nothing:
The Church of God is His little one. In the eyes of the world she is a nobody, but in the sight of God she is everything. So you and I must watch out for any way of living that might make the little one stumble.
If the verse asks us to avoid something, it helps to know where the danger usually lies. One writer traces it back to the thing Christians are meant to display above all:
Scripture teaches us that we are to "show forth," even "in the ages to come the exceeding riches of God's grace." Grace is the mark of this present age, unlike law, the strict teacher whose rule came before it. What, then, can be so great a failure as to fail in grace? This is why the Lord goes on with an urgent "take heed to yourselves."
Does this mean we should stay quiet with a brother who sins? One writer answers no, and says silence is the real danger:
Yet this does not mean that we should never speak to our brother for fear of stumbling him. The opposite is true. If he goes astray into sin, we are to rebuke him, and forgive him as soon as he repents — even if it happens again and again. We might think that rebuking him risks making him stumble. In fact, we take that risk by not rebuking him. Of course, this assumes we give the rebuke not in human anger but in the power of divine love.
- Little. God's care runs to "the least of all" — those the world despises for their smallness are the ones He guards.
- Shake. To make one stumble is to do anything that unsettles a believer's confidence in Christ and in God Himself.
- Weigh. Christ weighs it out: drowning would be the better outcome — a judgment that echoes the millstone of Babylon.
- Fail. Stumbling blocks arise where Christians fail in grace — the very thing they are meant to display.
- Speak. Rebuke given in love is not an offence. Staying silent is what trips a brother up.
Take heed to yourselves if thy brother should sin, rebuke him; and if he should repent, forgive him.
These words follow the Lord's warning about causing others to stumble. Now He turns to the harm done to His disciples. He commands two things at once: rebuke and forgiveness. Can both live in one heart?
The command opens with a warning aimed inward, not outward. The first work is not on the brother, but in the person he wronged.
"Pay attention to yourselves." Your part is to forgive. Pay attention to yourselves, watchful and self-judging... Watch constantly over yourselves. See to it that the spirit of love is not broken. That spirit is the power of unity and the bond of perfectness, as we know from elsewhere. See that the spirit of holiness is not broken either, so that the peace is not false. Blessed path! How He stoops to our weakness and danger by bringing in grace... Watchfulness against self and grace to others bring us through, rising like a lifeboat above all breakers.
Some think kindness means overlooking wrong. The order here — rebuke, then forgive — rules that out.
While we guard against others causing us to stumble, we have to cherish the grace of God. Grace is as essential to Christianity as the law was to the Jews as their rule. This command supposes that there is an evil course and current in the world, which may affect everyone's brother; but grace is never intended to weaken the moral condemnation of what is evil.
Bearing an injury in silence looks generous. Here is what it overlooks.
The natural course might be to avoid him and say nothing to him about his fault. Or we might decide to bear the injury patiently towards the offender, and, as it is sometimes put, "try to live it down." That might at first seem very reasonable, and look like grace on my part. But it leaves out one all-important thing: the spiritual condition of my offending brother. Whoever may recommend it, it is certainly not the Lord's way of treating the matter. Besides, staying away from my brother might leave a trace of bad feeling in my own heart. And even if it did not, am I to rest while I know that the conscience of my erring brother is defiled?
Speaking up carries its own risk of pushing someone further away. The greater risk runs the other way.
If he should go astray into sin, we are to rebuke him. As soon as he repents, we forgive him. This holds even if it should happen again and again. We might imagine that we run the risk of stumbling him by rebuking him, but we would really do so by not rebuking him. Of course we assume the rebuke comes not from human anger but from the power of divine love.
The hinge of the verse is one small word. Repentance goes further than offering to make amends.
Repentance is a great word, completely contrary to the bent of human will. Man may make efforts, but will never repent. Only grace gives real repentance. In its proper sense, repentance always means the judgment of self. Now this is what man will never bend to. He may offer amends. He may try to do good and repair the evil. But to own himself completely wrong — with no excuses, nothing held back, no attempt to blame others — is never man's nature. It is the result of the working of divine grace.
Why must forgiveness wait for repentance? Look at what an unrepentant person cannot receive.
There is a condition necessary to forgiveness, and that is repentance. That is indeed the principle of divine forgiveness... Someone who trespasses and is not repentant clearly has no desire for forgiveness. He is not in the right spirit to receive it. Repentance is the moral foundation. On it forgiveness can be rightly given and rightly received.
Some translations read "if your brother sins against you." Others read only "if your brother sins." The difference marks out what we can pardon ourselves.
Some of the earliest manuscripts omit "against you," along with several of the earliest versions. Yet it seems plain that it should at least be understood. Only a personal offence is one we can forgive ourselves. And it is with these personal offences that we most show our inability to handle them rightly.
- Attention — the command starts with a look inward: watchfulness against self, grace toward others.
- Rebuke — grace never softens the verdict on evil. Silence spares my comfort, not my brother's conscience.
- Love — the rebuke is valid only when it comes from divine love, not human anger.
- Repentance — self-judgment with no excuses. Grace alone produces it, and it is the ground of real pardon.
- Forgive — pardon stands ready the moment repentance comes, however often the failure repeats.
And if he should sin against thee seven times in the day, and seven times should return to thee, saying, I repent, thou shalt forgive him.
Jesus has just warned about causing others to stumble, and now He turns the demand inward. How often must you forgive the same person, and do the words "I repent" really settle it?
The number is not a ceiling but a picture. One writer reads both halves of the phrase — the count, and the single day — as pushing the case to its limit.
Grace would keep us from getting tired of wrongdoing in others any sooner than of well-doing on our own part. Seven times shows that the failure is complete, and in a day, too, which adds to the trial. To people's minds this would show that no good can come of forgiveness. But this is how God deals with us: He is unwearied in His grace. If it were not so, it would be all over with us — not only when we were in our sins, but even as believers.
Forgiveness here does not ignore the wrong. The words "I repent" are the hinge of the verse, and one writer shows why God's own forgiveness works the same way.
There is a condition necessary to forgiveness, and that is repentance. That is indeed the principle of divine forgiveness. There is no forgiveness with God except through repentance. It is very evident that one who trespasses, and who is not repentant, has no desire for forgiveness, is not in the right spirit to receive it. Repentance is the moral foundation on which forgiveness can be rightly given and rightly received.
Forgiving does not mean staying silent about the wrong. One writer shows how rebuke and forgiveness belong to the same grace.
If grace is not at work in another person, that does not excuse any lack of grace in me. When someone wrongs me, grace will rebuke him — not proudly, but in real love, because it is not grace or love to let sin carry on. If there is repentance, grace forgives fully. So that we do not set a limit when the wrong happens again, the Lord insists on forgiving seven times in a day, as long as the offender turns back to the one he wronged in repentance.
The wrong in view is one done to you. One writer draws a line between forgiving that wrong and the discipline of a church.
Love is to act in the reproof, and the spirit of forgiveness commanded here takes care of that. The holiness of grace shows itself in the condition of repentance. But if he sinned seven times a day, and seven times a day he turned, saying, I repent, he must be forgiven. This could not happen in a case of discipline in the assembly — the gathered church. There a person's fitness for the Lord's table and the fellowship of the whole company are involved, and there the authority of the Lord in the assembly must be upheld. As individuals we have no such authority over one another, and the service of love is the best constraint we can use.
Peter could have called the demand impossible. One writer pictures the Lord's reply, and it turns the whole command back on the hearer.
And Peter might well have said, "Impossible." But I can understand the Lord replying: "Peter, I am not asking you to treat your brother in any other way than the way I am treating you." Ah, that makes it easy. It is the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. That is the way He is treating me. He is forgiving me seventy times seven, and if I cannot forgive my brothers the same way, my heart has lost the sense of His grace.
The disciples felt the weight of what the Lord asked. One writer answers from two sides: how much faith it takes, and how much credit you may take afterwards.
We see how the disciples thought it would need great faith to carry out what the Lord had just said. A mustard seed is very small, and however tiny our faith is, all things are possible with God. So, however small your faith is, use it, and whatever hinders you from carrying out the Lord's words in these verses will be removed. Suppose you have forgiven a brother seven times a day. Do not think highly of yourself as a result. Say instead, "We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty."
- Measure — the standard is not a number but the way God forgives you; lose the sense of that grace, and forgiving becomes impossible.
- Condition — repentance is the ground of forgiveness; without it the wrongdoer does not even want it.
- Rebuke — love speaks to the wrong first, because letting sin continue is neither grace nor love.
- Limit — this is a wrong done to you, which you can forgive; it is not a matter of church discipline.
- Result — use the small faith you have and the obstacle moves; forgive seven times and you are still an unworthy servant who did his duty.