Forgive us

We've been walking through the Lord's Prayer line by line, and this week we hit the one that stings: "Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors." It sounds simple enough. But Pastor Josh opened up about how much he wrestled with this passage — and introduced a word that doesn't technically exist yet: forgivenness. Not forgiveness, which is what you give. Forgivenness — the state of already being forgiven. And until you really sit in that, forgiving others feels impossible.

"I Got Nothing to Be Forgiven For"

Here's the honest confession that kicked things off: "I see myself — there's nothing much to be forgiven. I stay home. Worst thing I can do is play golf. And I don't feel guilty about it anymore." It got a laugh. But the point underneath it was serious. When you feel like you've got your life mostly together — no major sins, no dramatic failures — praying "forgive us our debts" starts to feel routine. Empty, even.

But then comes the second half of the verse: "as we also have forgiven our debtors." And that's where it hit hard. Because even if you don't feel like you have much to be forgiven for, you almost certainly have people you haven't forgiven. Old wounds. Lingering resentment. The stuff that surfaces in the shower when you're not expecting it.

"I remember the time I had an issue a long time ago. Having a shower, I was just like, I'm still hating the person. I found myself shocked. Why am I having this feeling? Later I found out — he doesn't even know what he did. He doesn't know what he said to me. And it was me, actually imprisoning myself all along."

That's the trap. You think holding onto the grudge is punishing them. But they've moved on. They don't even remember. And you're the one waking up bitter.

The Prisoner Was You

There's an old saying that got quoted: "To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you." And honestly, that's the whole sermon in one line.

Unforgiveness doesn't just affect your mood. It hijacks your spiritual life. Your quiet time gets taken over by resentment. The praise disappears from your lips. Your heart hardens so gradually you don't even notice. And the full life in Christ that you said amen to at the start of the year? It stays theoretical.

"You can never truly experience the full life in Christ in the condition of unforgiveness. Forgiveness is the essential, the non-negotiable in your full life journey."

This isn't about pretending the hurt wasn't real. It could be your parents. A betrayal by a close friend. Something you did to yourself that you can't let go of. The pain is real. But the question is whether you're going to let it run your life — or whether you're going to bring it to God and ask him to do what you can't do on your own.

The Maths of the Unforgiving Servant

Jesus told a parable in Matthew 18 that makes the comparison almost absurd. A servant owes his king 10,000 talents — we're talking millions. The king cancels the whole thing. Pure pity, no strings. That same servant walks out and finds a guy who owes him a hundred denarii — pocket change — and chokes him. Throws him in prison.

When the king finds out, he's furious: "You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?"

The point isn't subtle. God cancelled a debt you could never repay. And now someone offends you and you want to make them pay for it forever? The comparison is supposed to wreck us. If we can't forgive, it's because we haven't really understood what was forgiven for us.

"If you're struggling with the forgiveness of others and still living in your own prison, it's because you do not know the value and power of forgiveness upon your life."

Psalm 51 — When Brokenness Is the Only Thing You've Got

To show what real repentance looks like, we went to Psalm 51. This is King David's prayer after the Bathsheba incident — and "incident" is putting it mildly. He saw a married woman, slept with her, had her husband killed. A whole family destroyed. When Nathan the prophet confronted him, David didn't deflect. He just said: I sinned against God.

There's a fun aside here. Pastor Josh once used a first-person sermon technique at another church — started telling the story as if it happened to him. "I woke up one day, I saw this woman next door, I slept with her..." The congregation was horrified. Then he revealed it was David's story, and you could hear the collective sigh of relief. Unfortunately, some of the older members didn't get the technique and complained to the senior pastor. He had to go back the next week and clarify: "It wasn't me. King David did it."

But the point of the exercise was exactly right. When you put your own face on the story, it stops being a Bible trivia answer and starts being devastating. And David's prayer reflects that devastation:

"Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love. According to your great compassion, blot out my transgressions."

Notice the basis of the appeal. Not "according to how sorry I am" or "according to how many sacrifices I can bring." According to your love. Your compassion. David knows he can't earn this. He's got nothing to offer except honesty about how broken he is.

And he goes further: "You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it. My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart." David had the wealth to burn ten thousand cattle. But he knew that wouldn't touch his heart. Religion says perform your way to forgiveness. The gospel says come broken and let God create something new.

The Cost of a Hardened Heart

There's a pattern worth paying attention to. The people who consider themselves most upright — good family, good job, nothing major to repent of — often have the highest expectations of others. And they struggle the most with forgiveness. Their hearts harden so slowly they don't even realise it's happening. They stop being hungry for grace because they don't think they need it.

"Create in me a pure heart, because I can't make it. I cannot be pure on my own. I cannot be good on my own. I like hating people. I'd rather just put that person in the box and put him in the prison of my hatred. But at the end of the day, I realised I'm the one who's trapped."

When David prays "restore to me the joy of your salvation," the word restore tells you everything. He had it. He lost it. And the first thing that went was the song — the praise on his lips, the softness of his heart. That's what bitterness costs you. Not just peace of mind, but the very presence of God in your daily life.

Challenge: Live Forgivenness

Everything summed up in one sentence:

"Only when you realise the value and the power of what you have already received in Christ, you can put all your hurts and pains in the right light."

How many of us are letting old hurts drive our decisions? Living based on what we lost, what we missed out on, what someone did to us years ago? We hear "full life in Christ" and nod along, but deep down we've already decided this year won't be any different.

Jesus says otherwise. Don't just live on forgiveness — live forgivenness. You're already forgiven. You didn't earn it. You don't deserve it. And everything else is just extra.

So every morning, because you're weak and not strong, pray it simply: "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done. Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors."

Come as a child. Come as you are. Come as weak as you are. And ask God for the strength to forgive the people you've been carrying.