“Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.”
Fifth Sermon on the Lord’s Prayer
Easter VI; May 21, 2006
Hosea 11:1-9
When we started this series, I said that I would talk about the “debts/trespasses/sins” thing when we got there. So, here we are. Why do some Christians say the Lord’s Prayer one way and others say it another? Frankly, that’s something of a mystery to me. The version of the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew says, “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” (Matthew 6:12) Its parallel in Luke reads, “Forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.” (Luke 11:4) In Matthew, after teaching the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus goes on to say, “For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” (Matthew 6:14-15)
So there you have all three words used in connection with the prayer: debts, trespasses and sins. I suspect it’s all the same to Jesus which one we choose, just so long as we do it: forgive others, that is. Why some Christians have chosen “debts” and others “trespasses,” I don’t know. The line with “sins” in it comes from the newer, ecumenical translation; why many churches (including ours) use this one line from the new translation while saying the rest of it the old way, I also don’t know.
From my youth, I remember my Pastor telling us why Presbyterians say we want God to forgive our debts and why Episcopalians say they want God to forgive their trespasses. Presbyterians tend to be the business owners in town, and are concerned with people paying their debts. Episcopalians tend to be the landed gentry, and are concerned with people trespassing on their land. Makes sense to me. Now, you good Methodist folks are basically Episcopalians who have been strangely warmed, aren’t you?1
For the Presbyterians here, I had best explain that. John Wesley attended a society meeting in Aldersgate Street; he had been feeling discouraged when he went. While at the meeting, he felt his heart strangely warmed, he later wrote, and he was convinced internally of his salvation in Christ, that he was “saved from the law of sin and death.” Methodists continue to commemorate Wesley’s experience by observing Aldersgate Day, which happens to be this coming Wednesday.2
I tell you this not only out of historical interest. A conviction of one’s salvation, like the one John Wesley experienced, is essential for this portion of the Lord’s Prayer to make sense to you. Wesley had been raised as a Christian; he was an enthusiastic believer. But it was somehow all head knowledge until Aldersgate, when he became aware within himself that he was forgiven.
Jesus exhorts us to forgive, and even holds over us the specter of God’s refusal to forgive us if we do not forgive others.3 I am convinced, however, that if we focus on that as a transaction we will get it backwards. “God, please forgive me, because I forgive others.” It really doesn’t work that way.
You and I can truly forgive others when we realize that God has forgiven us. That’s the way it really works. God has forgiven me all the wrongs that I have done; therefore I can forgive the wrongs that have been done to me.
I read to you that beautiful passage from Hosea because it captures the anguish of God over human sin. God takes our sin seriously: our corruption of our own lives, the lives of others and the life of our world is destructive of our well-being and constantly interferes with our fellowship with God. It is a cloud over our spiritual environment, which God enters hacking and wheezing. God is unwilling to give up on us, God forgives, God continues to reach out to us through the haze of our sin.
If you have ever worked at forgiving someone, at trying to establish a relationship with someone who has wronged you, you know how much it costs you. The one who has been harmed seems always to have to sacrifice the most. Look at what our forgiveness cost Jesus Christ. I know that we can get carried away with the gruesomeness of the Cross, and consequently wish to turn away from it. Our Presbyterian crosses do not bear the figure of Christ, and tend to be pretty – brass, or gold, or stained glass – not the rough wood of a cruel execution.
Well, let that be. You don’t need to get carried away with the gruesomeness or reject the image out of distaste. Look at the Cross, and think, “God forgives me.” If you can, remember what Christ has given up to convince us of our forgiveness: the glory of the heavenly host; the opportunity for a long, happy life; an easy death in bed, surrounded by those who love him. Think of what Christ has given, see the Cross, and realize in your heart – strangely warmed or not – that you are forgiven.
Since God has forgiven us our sins, our debts, our trespasses, can you and I learn to forgive those who sin against us?
“Forgive our sins as we forgive,” You taught us, Lord, to pray,
But You alone can grant us grace To live the words we say.4
Robert A. Keefer
Westminster Presbyterian Church
Clarinda, Iowa
[1] Members of the choir of First United Methodist Church joined us for worship this morning. There was a lot of music, hence the shorter sermon.
2 John Wesley’s experience was May 24, 1738. It was a nice conjunction that we held this service on Presbyterian Heritage Sunday, also the Sunday before Aldersgate Day.
3 The Gospel I chose for the day was Matthew 18:21-35.
4 Rosamond E. Herklots (1969), “Forgive Our Sins as We Forgive,” verse 1. The Presbyterian Hymnal (1990) #347.