Forgive Us Our Trespasses

In Nomine Iesu
Fifth Petition
March 21, 2018
Midweek Lent 5

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

I’ll see you in court! You’ll be hearing from my lawyer! I’ll sue your pants off! Sound familiar? It should. Litigation is the contagion of our times. Back in 2012 litigation costs in the United States totaled $250 billion dollars. The amount of money we spent on suing and being sued amounted to over two percent of the Gross Domestic Product. It would be as if every man, woman, and child in this country spent $838 dollars in search of a legal remedy.

Although litigation is sometimes a necessary thing—and although judges and attorneys should be viewed as good gifts from God—yet, suing somebody has almost become a way of life in American culture—even among Christians—even between Christians. The creed of our culture almost seems to be: I don’t get mad; I get even.

But for those who follow Jesus Christ, getting even and getting revenge are not viable options. Jesus advocates forgiveness, not litigiousness. Jesus promotes reconciliation, not litigation. He tells us to love our enemies and to pray for those who persecute us (Matt. 5:44). And the concrete expression of that love for our enemies—the place where the rubber hits the road—is the Fifth Petition of the Lord’s Prayer: Our Father, forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

You’ve prayed those words perhaps thousands of times. What do they mean? First and foremost, those words are a confession—an admission—that we’ve got trespasses that need forgiving. Whenever we pray this petition we are owning-up to the fact that we daily sin much and deserve nothing but punishment. With these words we admit the worst about ourselves—that we are indeed poor, miserable sinners.

This petition also levels the playing field. It just lumps us together with all the other sinners. There’s no distinction here. It’s not “forgive him” or “forgive her” or even “forgive me.” It’s “forgive us our trespasses.” The plural pronouns of this petition break our pride and keep all of us as beggars before God. Anyone who would dare to boast in his own goodness and look down on the sins of others—that person needs to pray these words: Father, forgive us.

This petition also teaches us how God’s forgiveness is like rainwater. It pours down vertically from God to us; and then runs horizontally from us to our neighbors. It’s just like the rain that first showers down from the heavens and then runs along the channels of streams and creeks and rivers. Or, if you prefer, it’s like a waterfall that gushes downward and then turns into a river flowing outward. God forgives, and His forgiveness propels His forgiven people also to forgive. Both our forgiveness and our forgiveness of others is offered to God in one, seamless, unbroken petition, prayed in a single breath: Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Forgiveness cannot be hoarded. You can’t save it up just for yourself. It’s like the air we breathe—inhaled and exhaled, but no holding your breath—at least not for very long. Forgiveness is made to move. It’s made to flow, like the blood and water from Jesus’ side—from God to us—and through us to those around us. This is important because any blockage in the horizontal channel results in a back-up in the vertical. Those who refuse to forgive others are also—actually—refusing to be forgiven themselves. Jesus helpfully expressed it this way: 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 (Matt. 6:14-15). Luther put it more succinctly in the Large Catechism: If you do not forgive, do not think that God forgives you.

To forgive means to “let go” of the sin—to send the sin away to where it no longer comes between you and your neighbor. But our sinful nature never wants to let go—never wants to send away the sins perpetrated against us. We want to hold onto those sins—carefully file them away for use at a later time. Instead of “forgive and forget,” what comes naturally to us is to “remember and retaliate.” We’d rather even the score than forgive as God in Christ has forgiven us.

What’s more, the forgiveness we are called to share cannot be half-hearted. It’s not just saying, “I forgive you,” but meaning it. As the Small Catechism reminds us, “So we too will sincerely forgive and gladly do good to those who sin against us.” The forgiveness we give should be just like the forgiveness we receive from the Lord: full, free, and genuine.

This is tough. In fact, this is impossible without Jesus. I’d like to share with you something Jesus once taught me about forgiveness. I was in second grade. And one Wednesday evening during Lent, while I was at church with my family, I did something destructive. My destructive act was soon discovered, and later that night at home a suitable punishment was administered.

But that’s not the end of the story. For my parents decided that since my destructive deed was carried out at church, I needed to apologize to our pastor. I still remember the fear and dread that followed in the days ahead as I contemplated what it would be like to apologize to the pastor, who to my second-grade eyes was a rather formidable figure. When the moment of truth arrived, I was terrified. I don’t remember a word of what I said. But I will never forget what he said: Mike, since Jesus forgives you, I forgive you too. It was unexpected. It was undeserved. It was grace. It was the forgiveness of Jesus flowing from one forgiven sinner to another.

That forgiveness is still flowing right here this evening. It flows from the cross of Jesus—from the Lamb of God slain for sinners like us. Hanging from the cross, on a dark Friday afternoon, our Lord Jesus prayed to our Father. Even as He was mocked and spit upon—as pain beyond measure was inflicted upon His lacerated body—He prayed. He prayed not for vengeance or retribution. He prayed for the forgiveness of His enemies: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And just a short while later, Jesus breathed His last to make our forgiveness possible. Jesus, who was innocent, prayed for the guilty. He takes our guilt and gives us His innocence. He takes our sin, and gives us His forgiveness. Tonight you have His forgiveness—full, free, and genuine. The only question is: What will you do with it?

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.