There’s no question about it: as Christians, we are called to forgive. Forgiveness is in our spiritual DNA; it’s a trait of what we are. And what are we but children of God (1 John 3:1), who himself is characterized by mercy, grace, and forgiveness (Exod 34:6-7a)?
Children of the Forgiver show who their father is by acting like him (Eph 4:32-5:2).
In Matthew 18, Jesus places the burden of restoration on the one who has been wronged. Spelling out the steps of reconciliation (Matt 18:15-18), he appoints the forgiver as the active, initiating party. We are to go to our offenders in love with earnest intent to forgive as we have been forgiven, bringing the finished work of Christ with us and offering it to our brothers as the full payment for what they owe us.
This takes imitating God the forgiver to a whole new level. Being his children, we don’t just sit around waiting for relationships to fix themselves. We move. We go. Like God, who “acts for those who wait for him,” we are equipped by the gospel to act on behalf of hurting relationships (Isa 64:4). We take God’s long arm of the gospel (Isa 59:1-2, 16) into the dark and broken places, and we watch as his forgiveness and mercy make things right again. This is the active, initiating forgiveness of the gospel. It’s the exact opposite of bitterness, resentment, grudge-holding, and passive-aggression. It’s love.
But what if you’re the one who answers the door when Matthew 18 comes knocking? Will you take it as love then?
In the gospel, God says, “You have wronged me” (Rom 3:23). That can be a jarring statement for sinners to hear. This news from God—the bad news—can make the hairs on our neck rise up on end.
How sinners respond to God’s bad news reveals whether or not the good news is at work in their hearts. Do they fume, rage, and buck, blaming and defaming God? Or do they listen? Do they grieve over their guilt, begging him for mercy, finding that mercy is the very reason he has told them the bad news?
Just so, our response to a brother who comes to us with a grievance reveals whether or not we are walking according to the gospel which has already come to us in Christ. It’s so easy to get defensive, to lash out with grievances of our own, to take the confrontation as hate rather than love. It’s humbling to be approached with your own sin, especially if the one who comes to you is awkward, nervous, and perhaps a bit defensive themselves.
When Matthew 18 comes knocking on your door, try to remember how scary, humbling, and difficult your brother’s task of love really is.
Think of it: walking in the steps of God who initiates and provides for reconciliation can be intimidating, overwhelming, and risky. As your brother approaches you, he may be thinking, How will she respond? Will he be defensive? Am I just being ‘confrontational’? Who am I to feel wronged when I myself have wronged others? Any of these doubts might turn him back, leaving your relationship fractured and you unforgiven. If he makes it all the way, accept his words—no matter how blundering, ineloquent, or even hurtful—as his obedience to Christ and love to you (Prov 27:6).
When your child comes to you with a grievance (“Daddy, you hurt my feelings”), don’t play the sinless parent and deny that it could have happened. Honour her desire to clear up the relationship by listening, thinking about what she’s saying, and responding in humility.
When your friend comes to you offended (“You betrayed my trust”), don’t immediately bring up the time he hurt you. Instead, ask for forgiveness, and assume he’s come to give it.
When you’ve wronged an unbeliever and she’s come to you with it in a less-than-savoury manner (“You’re a real jerk!”), respond with gospel sorrow. Who knows but that in your display of biblical repentance she might see the power of God’s mercy and respond to Christ in the same way.