Matthew 18:23–35

The parable of the Two Servants (Matt. 18:23-35) puts on full display one of the ugliest features of fallen human nature: no feeling for the grace of God. It happened like this. Peter had just asked the Lord if seven times would be enough to forgive a brother who kept sinning against him. The startling reply came: "Until seventy times seven." The Lord added this parable at once. In it the immense grace of God and the evil of man that nothing can cure stand out clearly.

The comparison the Lord draws here must be a comparison of the kingdom of heaven. It is not, after all, a picture of the perfect grace we know in God, though the illustration comes as close to that as it can... But the Lord will not picture one of His own people in the portrait He gives of this unmerciful servant. He carries the responsibility that comes with such a claim, but he has no real grasp of divine grace, as his conduct shows... The kingdom, as we see in the parables, includes the true and the false. In it every blessing is governmental and conditional.

It is a comparison of the kingdom of heaven, and refers to a state of things set up here on earth by God's will. While we may, and must, take the principle to ourselves, much more is taught than this. Taken in the broad sense, the servant who owes the ten thousand talents represents the Jew, specially favoured by God, who had still run up an enormous debt he could never pay. They completed this debt by the death of their Messiah. Then a message of forgiveness came to them — "Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out."

We must read this parable morally too. Seen that way, it speaks loudly to us all. Every person has defaulted on what he owes God. Perfect obedience and love is His due from us, but who among us has ever given it? Yet the heart of God yearns over all His bankrupt debtors. On the basis of the atoning blood of Jesus, He proclaims full pardon to everyone... But conduct alone proves whether or not the grace of God has really reached the soul. Where it has, the forgiven one gratefully walks in the spirit of grace towards all.

The servant was not unrighteous in demanding what was due to him, but he was ungracious. He was totally unlike his master. His master had forgiven him ten thousand talents. Yet he could seize his fellow servant by the throat over a small hundred pence. What was the consequence? His master handed him over to the tormentors. He lost the happy sense of grace... And notice further: his master called him "a wicked servant" not for owing "ten thousand talents," but for refusing to forgive the "hundred pence."

It refers to God's governmental dealings with those who take the place of being His servants. Verse 35 makes this plain... Eternal forgiveness rests on an entirely different basis. But governmental forgiveness very often hinges on the believer showing a forgiving spirit... And if any of us see one brother ill-treating another, we shall be wise not to take the law into our own hands and attack the wrongdoer. Better to imitate the servants of the parable and tell our Lord all that was done.

But one debtor is specified, and his debt is enormous. Even if it were silver, Haman offered no more in exchange for destroying the entire Jewish people. The sinner before God is not less guilty. No wonder he "was brought to him": he would never have come of himself. Everything depends on whether one's submission to God's righteousness is real. If a person is not born of God, that submission is only on the surface.

If the talent was silver and Roman, it would be about £2,000,000; if Jewish, £4,000,000; if gold, between £7,000,000 and £8,000,000. "And since he could not pay" — no power to put himself right after having run up that frightful debt.

The kingdom of heaven is compared here to a human king, which prepares us for certain points in it that we must not attribute to God. The king here will have a reckoning with his servants. As soon as he begins, a man with an overwhelming debt is brought to him. Such a debt in itself surely argues something more than any misfortune can account for... yet there is this truth in it, that the sinner against God, as far as he can do it, wrecks not only himself but everyone connected with him. No man can be his own enemy only, as people sometimes claim.

We are all in debt to the supreme King, and just as helpless. It is good that there is mercy with Him that no figures can measure. The debtor falls at his lord's feet with an impossible plea for mercy in his own case — how impossible in ours! "I will pay you everything." The king can accept no such agreement and takes no notice of it. But his heart is moved with compassion, and acting on that, "he released him and forgave him the debt."

Taken more broadly, the servant who owes the ten thousand talents represents the Jewish people. God had given them special favour, yet they had run up an enormous debt they could never pay. When they had completed this debt by the death of their Messiah, God sent them a message of forgiveness.

The king's servant who owed ten thousand talents is typical of every one of us by nature and by practice, for our debt of sin has been far beyond our ability to pay. Righteousness demands satisfaction. The man faces the tragedy of losing everything — his wife, his children and his own freedom.

Grace without limit is what He meant. This follows the pattern of the boundless grace of God as shown to us in the gospel... A man may receive a full pardon for all his offences from the very God he has sinned against, through the atoning sacrifice of Calvary. And then he may refuse to show mercy to someone who has wronged him! A beggar with God, and a tyrant with men! What an appalling inconsistency.

The king settles accounts with his servants. He finds one owing the impossible sum of ten thousand talents. One talent is worth nearly two hundred pounds. And he had nothing to pay. Exactly my condition! And the condemnation is just: let him be sold as a slave, along with everything he had. Even then it would hardly make a first payment on the debt.

Under the ancient law, debts had to be paid. If the debtor had no means to pay them, he himself was sold. The law of God did not allow the principle that because a man is unable to pay his debts he may therefore go free. Neither does the gospel permit an excuse on the ground of inability. Divine justice has no bankruptcy court where a man can settle his sins. God will never accept the excuse, "I was led astray; I was unfortunate, and so became ruined." The law of God holds firm to the letter, and His justice will not bend to the plea of human weakness. But while the law was stern, there was room left for the entrance of redeeming love.

First of all you get righteousness. God is always righteous. He never does a needless thing nor an unrighteous thing. So in verse 25 we see righteousness. This man acknowledges the justice; he does not deny the debt, but casts himself on mercy. "Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything." The thought is that the man owns the justness of the claim. "And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt."

Here the kingdom of heaven is compared to a human king. That prepares us for certain features in the story that we must not attribute to God Himself… So the king orders him to be sold, along with his wife and children and everything belonging to him, to pay the debt. We see the "human" king in this, of course. Yet there is this truth in it: the sinner against God, as far as he can, wrecks not only himself but everyone connected with him. No man can be his own enemy only, as men sometimes assert.

But one debtor is specified, and his debt enormous… Not less guilty is the sinner before God. No wonder he "was brought to Him": of himself he would never come. Everything depends on how real a person's submission to God's righteousness is. If he is not born of God, it is only surface deep.

This parable may be read in two ways: as the history of God's dealings with a nation, and as a lesson for each heart. Read as history, it presents to us the story of the people of Israel. Centuries of law breaking had made them serious defaulters before the Son of God came into the world. To all this they added the enormous guilt of shedding His blood. He prayed, "Father, forgive them." In answer, God showed favour to the nation after the Holy Spirit came down from heaven.

The King James Version says: 'The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.' Mr. Darby translates 'worshipped him' as 'did him homage', and the English Standard Version has 'imploring him'. These other translations help us grasp the sense of the verse, but the question remains why the Greek word for 'worship' is used. Worship means 'bowing down'. That is the attitude a person should take before God. But sometimes the word is used in a more general sense, for the physical position taken. That is the case here.

The distinction has been put like this: makrothumia expresses patience with people, hupomone patience with things… From Exodus 34:6 on, makrothumos is used again and again of God in the Greek Old Testament. In Proverbs 15:18 and 16:32 it matches our phrase "slow to anger," though the patient restraint it expresses is not limited to anger… For the verb makrothumeo, see Matthew 18:26 and 29… It means "a long holding out of the mind before it gives room to action or passion," and it is applied to God, in His forbearance towards those who provoke Him.

We are all helplessly in debt to the supreme King. It is good that there is mercy with Him that no figures can measure. The debtor falls at his lord's feet with an impossible plea for mercy in his own case — how impossible in our own! "I will pay you everything." The king can accept no such agreement and takes no notice of it. But his heart is moved with compassion, and acting on that, he "released him and forgave him the debt."

In the parable the guilty servant promises to pay all, and is released. But he has barely left the King's presence when his wicked heart shows itself, and the king's anger falls on him. He thought he would take advantage of the mercy of the king, but he must add his own works: he was not trusting to that mercy. It is no use for me to think I can deliver myself by making a part payment. I can never repay: it is no use making promises and seeking pardon on my merits.

It was his own that he was demanding. Apart from the violence used, he was, as men say, quite within his rights. That was not the question, and everyone sees at once that it was not. We too may be within our rights when we demand what is ours from other people. So why are we not as clear-eyed about the real state of things in our own case as we are about this man? We have been forgiven too (if we are Christians), and our own debt was so great that his was nothing beside it.

Huge numbers claim to have received His pardon. "I believe in the forgiveness of sins" is said daily by crowds across the Christian world. But conduct alone proves whether the grace of God has truly reached the soul. Where it has, the forgiven person gratefully walks in the spirit of grace towards everyone, bearing wrong with meekness and seeking every person's eternal good.

The servant who owed God 10,000 talents is, in history, the Jew. He took greedy advantage of the gracious forgetting of everything that the gospel offered. But he was so little filled with the Spirit of Christ that he hated and persecuted, refusing any mercy to the Gentile.

"But that servant went out" — out from an experience like this! And the fellow servant he seized by the throat owed him a hundred denarii: about a 700,000th part of his own debt, just forgiven.

At the close of Matthew 18 we have a parable which teaches us that a man who asserts his rights is ignorant of the character and proper effect of grace. The servant was not unrighteous in demanding what was due to him; but he was ungracious. He was totally unlike his master. He had been forgiven ten thousand talents, and yet he could seize his fellow by the throat for a paltry hundred denarii.

It was his own that he was demanding. Apart from the violence used, he was, as men say, quite within his rights. That was not the question; and everyone at once understands that that was not the question. We too may be within our rights when we demand from others what is our own. So why are we not as clear in judging our own case as we are in judging the man in front of us? God has forgiven us (if we are Christians) just as He forgave him — and our debt was so great that his was nothing beside it.

Here is the debtor who did not keep the word or bear fruit with patience. "On going out," he soon showed how empty he was. He was a dead stone, a man who had never tasted that the Lord is good, and he ruthlessly attacked his fellow servant, who owed him a much smaller debt.

This man is unforgiving and cruel; he choked his fellow servant. Merciless and cruel, he had no sense of forgiveness. If there is anything like a real sense of grace in our souls, it will make us patient and watchful over our spirits… Notice this: the master did not call him a wicked servant because he owed the debt. He was not angry with him for that. He was angry with him when the man was merciless and unforgiving.

Read one way, it presents to us the history of the people of Israel… In answer to His gracious prayer, "Father, forgive them," divine favour was shown to the nation after the Holy Spirit came down from heaven. To Israel first the gospel of divine forgiveness was sent (Acts 3:26). This, instead of melting their hearts, only served to bring out their complete moral insensibility to God's goodness.

Huge numbers of people say every day, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." But conduct alone proves whether or not the grace of God has really penetrated the soul. Where it has, the forgiven one gratefully walks in the spirit of grace towards all, patiently enduring wrong, and sincerely seeking every man's eternal good.

The appeal is so like his own of a moment before, only more reasonable and simpler. It should have pierced the heart of the hardened man: "So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, 'Have patience with me, and I will pay you.'" It is the grace shown to him that fully exposes the hardness of his unmerciful heart.

makrothumia comes from makrothumos, "long-suffering." Archbishop Trench put the distinction like this: "makrothumia is patience with persons, hupomone is patience with things"… For makrothumeo see Matthew 18:26, 29… The word means "a long holding out of the mind before it gives room to action or passion." Scripture applies it to God, in His forbearance towards those who provoke Him.

It was his own that he was demanding. Apart from the violence used, he was, as men say, quite within his rights. That was not the question; and everyone at once understands that that was not the question. We too may be within our rights when we demand what others owe us. So why are we not as clear in judging our own case as we are in judging the man in front of us? We have been forgiven as well, if we are Christians — and of a debt beside which his was nothing. How can we treat grace or mercy shown to others as anything more than plain righteousness on our part, when we stand as forgiven men?

This man is unforgiving and cruel; he throttled his fellow servant. Merciless and cruel, he had no sense of forgiveness. If we have any real sense of grace in our souls, it will make us patient and watchful over our spirits. The same nature is in all of us. Notice this: the master did not call him a wicked servant because he owed the debt, and was not angry with him for that. He was angry when the man proved merciless and unforgiving.

Eternal forgiveness rests on an entirely different basis. But God's governmental forgiveness very often hinges on the believer showing a forgiving spirit. If we treat our brothers and sisters badly, we shall find ourselves sooner or later in the hands of the "tormentors" and have a sorrowful time. And suppose one of us sees a believer ill-treating another. We shall be wise not to take the law into our own hands and attack the wrongdoer. Better to imitate the servants of the parable and tell our Lord all that happened, leaving Him to deal with the offender in His holy government.

This illustrates the government of God, which is not set aside by His grace… This parable doubtless has another application, bearing on the Jews and their jealousy at grace being shown to the Gentiles. The hundred denarii stands for what the Gentiles owed them; the ten thousand talents stands for what the Jews owed God. Peter offered them pardon in Acts 3:19-26, but they rejected it.

Then comes an appeal much like his own of a moment before, only more reasonable and simpler. It should have pierced the heart of this hardened man: "Then his fellow servant fell down and begged him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay you. He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt." It is the grace shown to him that fully exposes the stubbornness of his unmerciful heart.

This man is unforgiving and cruel; he throttled his fellow servant. Merciless and cruel, he had no sense of forgiveness. If there is any real sense of grace in our souls, it will make us patient and watchful over our spirits. The same nature is in all of us. Notice that he did not call him a wicked servant because he owed the debt. He was not angry with him for that. But when the man was merciless and unforgiving, then he was angry with him.

It was his own that he was demanding. Apart from the violence used, he was, as men say, quite within his rights. That was not the question, and everyone at once understands that it was not. We too, when we demand what is ours from others, may be within our rights. Why then are we not as clear-sighted about our own case as we are about the man in front of us? We have been forgiven (if we are Christians) as well as he, and forgiven a debt next to which his was nothing. How can we look on grace or mercy shown to others as anything more than plain righteousness on our part, from the standpoint of forgiven men?

What an exposure of the terrible possibilities that lurk in the human heart! A man may receive a full pardon for all his offences from the very God he has sinned against, on the ground of the atoning sacrifice of Calvary. Then he refuses to show mercy to a fellow human being who has wronged him! A beggar with God, and a tyrant with men! Oh, the appalling inconsistency.

So the servant had heard the sound of forgiveness for himself, but he had no understanding of it. He goes out, and throws a fellow servant into prison over what was, by comparison, a very small debt.

Profession may have no root of faith. It may spring merely from a feeling of terror, or from a feeling of sympathy. It may be nothing but creed-holding, or deference to public opinion. It is often only mental understanding. In such cases there is no thorough self-judgment and no repentance formed by God. So there is no true sense of the grace of God, and no real appreciation of Christ and His work.

The close of the parable gives its moral: mercy fails for the man with whom mercy fails. His lord was angry, and handed him over to the tormentors until he should pay all that was due — an impossible thing, and therefore a picture of a recompense that never ends.

Our attitude toward others has a serious bearing on ourselves. Do I forgive? Then I can ask God to forgive me. Am I hard and unforgiving? I shall reap what I sow.

Other fellow servants have observed this painful action, however, and it is good to see that they were not merely angry or bitter, but "very sorry." They tell their Lord, who calls the offending servant to account.

If we treat our brothers and sisters badly, we shall find ourselves sooner or later in the hands of the "tormentors" and have a sorrowful time. And if any of us see one brother ill-treating another, we shall be wise not to take the law into our own hands and attack the wrongdoer. Instead we should imitate the servants of the parable and tell our Lord all that happened, leaving Him to deal with the offender in His holy government.

Plain as the matter is, it is developed and pressed on us: the grief of his fellow servants, who bring the account of it to their lord. He in turn summons the guilty man and puts before him the wickedness of his conduct with abhorrence. The close of the parable gives the moral: mercy fails for the person with whom it fails. "His lord was angry, and delivered him to the tormentors till he should pay all that was due" — an impossible thing, and therefore a picture of an eternal recompense.

It hardly needs saying that this parable does not speak of the salvation of the soul. It speaks of the principles by which the King governs His kingdom — principles that apply as much to the person who truly belongs to Him as to the one who only claims to. On the cross Christ took the consequences for eternity of every believer's sins, and that fact never changes. But as to our conduct in this world, God's government holds to an unalterable principle: "whatever one sows, that will he also reap."

This parable refers to God's governmental dealings with those who take the place of being His servants. There is an entirely different basis for eternal forgiveness, but governmental forgiveness very often depends on the believer showing a forgiving spirit.

Matthew 18:23-35 does not refer to the question of "eternal life." Its primary application is to the Jew and his way of dealing with the Gentile. Despite the abounding mercy which God had shown to the Jew, he would not listen to the idea of mercy to the Gentile.

Multitudes profess to have received His pardon. "I believe in the forgiveness of sins" is the language of many in Christendom daily. But conduct alone proves whether or not the grace of God has really reached the soul. Where it has, the forgiven one walks with thankfulness in the spirit of grace towards all. He endures wrong patiently and sincerely seeks the eternal good of everyone.

Why was the man in Matthew 18 called "a wicked servant"? Because, having been forgiven ten thousand talents, he took his fellow by the throat over a hundred silver coins.

So helplessly are we all indebted to the supreme King. Good it is that there is mercy with Him for which all figures fail. The debtor falls at his lord's feet with an impossible plea for mercy in his own case — how impossible in our own! "I will pay you everything." The king can accept no such agreement, and takes no notice of it. But compassion moves his heart, and he acts on it: "he released him and forgave him the debt."

It is possible for a man to receive a full pardon for all his offences from the God he has sinned against, on the ground of the atoning sacrifice of Calvary. And then he refuses to show mercy to a fellow man who has wronged him! A beggar with God, and a tyrant with men! Oh, the appalling inconsistency.

If God has shown us love, for us to show it is only righteousness. What witness have we, if it is not witness of the grace we have received?… Is there not sometimes a very sad and serious mistake here? We act as if, because it is grace we are called to show, we may please ourselves about how much and what kind. We act as if showing it at all were a little something extra! But God will require from us what He has been showing us.

It is true that we cannot forgive debts owed to God. But we must not think He will tolerate in us what He does not do Himself — the bare demand for payment.

This parable does not speak of the salvation of the soul. It speaks of the principles by which the King governs His kingdom — principles that apply as much to the person who really has life as to the one who merely claims it. It is an unchanging fact that on the cross Christ took the eternal consequences of every believer's sins. But as to our conduct in this world, God governs by a rule that never changes: "whatever one sows, that will he also reap."

Grace refuses a fixed limit and demands the widest margin; but the parable solemnly shows the doom of the man who has no heart for it. Whatever the man claimed, he did not know the only true God, the Father, or Jesus Christ whom He sent. Eternal life was not his.

It was the hatred of the Jew toward the Gentile. And so all the debt that God had forgiven them became fastened on them. … You may apply this to a person who has heard the gospel and does not act on it. The principle is true today of any mere professor of the gospel who acts like a worldly man.

Note this: we are never taught to forgive on the same theological principle on which we are forgiven. We forgive because we are forgiven, and in the same manner we are to forgive. Nothing is said about the measure or about the method. Who, for instance, could ask God to forgive in the same measure as he had forgiven his fellow men? But in the same manner he could. As to the method or principle, God's ground of forgiveness is the righteous satisfaction He has received in another bearing the penalty we had incurred. Our ground for forgiving others is simply that God has forgiven us.

It was his own that he was demanding. Apart from the violence he used, he was, as men say, quite within his rights. That was not the question, and everyone at once sees that. We too may be within our rights when we demand what is our own from others. So why are we not as clear-sighted about our own case as we are about the man before us? We have been forgiven (if we are Christians) as well as he, and our debt was one beside which his was nothing. From the standpoint of forgiven men, how can we look on grace or mercy shown to others as anything more than the plainest righteousness on our part?

What an exposure of the terrible possibilities that lurk in the human heart! A man may receive full pardon for all his offences from the God he has sinned against, on the ground of the atoning sacrifice of Calvary. He may then refuse to show mercy to a fellow human being who has wronged him! A beggar with God, and a tyrant with men! Oh, the appalling inconsistency.

Every man is a defaulter in relation to God... Yet the heart of God yearns over all His bankrupt debtors, and, on the basis of the atoning blood of Jesus, He proclaims full pardon to everyone. Multitudes profess to have received His pardon... But conduct alone proves whether or not the grace of God has really penetrated the soul. Where it has, the forgiven one walks thankfully in the spirit of grace towards all. He bears wrong meekly, and truly seeks the eternal good of every person.

It hardly needs saying that this parable does not speak of the salvation of the soul. It speaks of the principles by which the King governs His kingdom. Those principles apply as much to the one who truly has life as to the one who only professes it. On the cross Christ took the eternal consequences of every believer's sins, and that fact never changes. But as to our conduct in this world, God governs by an unchanging principle: "whatever one sows, that will he also reap." And again, in Matthew 5:7: "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy."

If I might say one practical word here, it would be this: the cure of all discords among the saints may be found in this obligation. Remember how the Lord pressed this in the parable of the two debtors. The king asked the servant who had failed in love why he had not shown his fellow servant the same pity he himself had received. If this spirit governed us, all our personal breaches would be healed, we would be knit together in love, and Christ would be magnified.

This man is unforgiving and cruel; he throttled his fellow servant. Merciless and cruel, he had no sense of forgiveness. If there is anything like a proper sense of grace in our souls, it will make us patient and watchful over our spirits, for the same nature is in all of us. Notice that the king did not call him a wicked servant because he owed the debt. The debt was not what made him angry. But when the servant was merciless and unforgiving, then he was angry with him.

The close of the parable gives us its moral: mercy fails for the man with whom mercy fails. "And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt." That could never happen. So it pictures a punishment that lasts forever.

This parable does not speak of the salvation of the soul. It speaks of the principles by which the King governs His kingdom. Those principles apply as much to the person who really possesses salvation as to the one who only claims it. One fact never changes: on the cross Christ took the eternal consequences of every believer's sins. But our conduct in this world falls under another unchanging principle of God's government: "whatever one sows, that will he also reap."

The Jews were guilty of ten thousand talents by crucifying the Son of God. God then acts in grace. On the strength of the intercession of Jesus, He has the gospel preached to the nation, and Peter's preaching is the answer. But they refuse grace to the Gentiles, who were far less guilty toward them than they were toward God. So the wrath came upon them to the full.

The Jew is therefore cast into prison, and he will not leave it until he has paid all that was due. The day is coming when the Lord will say that Jerusalem has received from His hand double for all her sins. In His grace He will count that Jerusalem has suffered more than enough. He will apply to them the blood of Christ, which can wipe out the ten thousand talents and more. But the unbelieving generation of Israel are cast into prison, and they will never come out. The remnant will come out, by the grace of God, and the Lord will make the remnant a strong nation.

It is a terrible thing for someone who professes Christ to hold on to an unforgiving spirit. We do not see how such a person can have any real sense of grace or any communion with God. And we should not be surprised to find them given over to the most tormenting feelings. Those feelings express God's judgment on a wrong state of heart.

The Christian who goes to law claims to have been forgiven ten thousand talents, yet he takes his fellow by the throat for a mere hundred pence. Is this right? Is it pleasing to God?… God is not counting trespasses against people. He is a pardoning God, delighting in mercy. If we go to law, we are not like Him; we are misrepresenting Him.

What an exposure of the awful possibilities that lurk in the human heart! A man may have sinned against God and then received from Him a full pardon for all his offences, through the atoning sacrifice of Calvary. And then he refuses to show mercy to a fellow human being who has wronged him! A beggar with God, and a tyrant with men! Oh, the appalling inconsistency.

We who profess to be Christians have an important lesson to learn from this scripture. We urgently need to cultivate a forgiving spirit. If we fail to act in grace, we are in danger of losing the sense of grace in our own souls. How dreadful when a man whose sins are all forgiven drags a fellow sinner into court over a little money! Note the closing words of our Lord... This marks the application of the entire passage to our Father's governmental dealings with us from day to day.

This parable does not speak of the salvation of the soul. It speaks of the principles by which the King governs His kingdom. Those principles apply to the one who truly has life just as much as to the one who only professes it. On the cross Christ took the eternal consequences of every believer's sins, and that fact never changes. But as to our conduct in this world, God governs by a principle that never changes either: "whatever one sows, that will he also reap."

We are to act out of our own hearts in grace, just as God acted in our salvation. We look for no motive outside ourselves, except in the God who saved us. Our delight is to express the same indescribable grace that we ourselves have received. This does not mean we must always speak our forgiveness to those who have sinned against us. But in our own feelings we are always to be in a state of forgiveness. We are never to hold on to a brother's sin inside.

Eternal forgiveness rests on a completely different basis. But God's governmental forgiveness very often hinges on the believer showing a forgiving spirit. If we treat our brothers and sisters badly, sooner or later we shall find ourselves in the hands of the "tormentors," and we shall have a sorrowful time. And suppose one of us sees a brother ill-treating another. We would be wise not to take the law into our own hands and attack the wrongdoer. Better to copy the servants in the parable: tell our Lord all that happened, and leave Him to deal with the offender in His holy government.

Huge numbers profess to have received His pardon... But conduct alone proves whether the grace of God has really reached the soul. Where it has, the forgiven one walks thankfully in the spirit of grace towards all, and patiently bears wrong... "For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy" (James 2:13). Our God will be satisfied with nothing less than reality in those who have to do with Him.

Matthew 18:23-35 does not refer to the question of "eternal life." Its primary application is to the Jew and his way of dealing with the Gentile. Despite the abounding mercy which God had shown to the Jew, he would not listen to the idea of mercy to the Gentile.