This article is a verse-by-verse commentary on Matthew 18:15–35. It carefully unpacks Jesus’ instruction on resolving conflict within the church, showing how His method emphasizes humility, compassion, and restoration rather than judgment. Each passage is explored in its context, drawing out both the practical steps for reconciliation and the spiritual principles behind them. The goal is to reveal how Christ’s blueprint for handling offenses leads not only to peace among believers but also to a deeper reflection of His character of forgiveness and love.
“If you’d like to watch a full live Bible study on this passage, you can find it on my YouTube channel, Sunshine7d, titled ‘A Deep Dive into Matthew 18: Restoring the Erring in Love.’” 🎥
👉 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1u6pSGq40g0&t=1711s
Introduction
Matthew 18 is often quoted when addressing conflicts within the church. At times, these verses can feel overused, even diminished in meaning. But when I read them alongside the preceding chapter and the parable that follows, their value exploded in my estimation. These passages not only teach us how to handle church conflicts—they reveal the kind of Judge Christ is and invite us to reflect His character in how we treat those who err.
A Teaching Moment from Christ: Dealing with Offenses
The disciples were no strangers to offense. They struggled with pride, comparison, and resentment. In Matthew 17, they failed to cast out a demon—exposing their spiritual weakness. In chapter 18, they argued over who was the greatest, revealing how easily jealousy and ambition took hold.
Jesus used their failures as teaching moments, highlighting the spiritual conditions that prevent effective ministry—especially unresolved conflict and pride. His instructions in Matthew 18 weren’t just about behavior, but about heart transformation.
He was preparing them to lead a new kind of church—one shaped not by rigid tradition or outward control, but by the transforming power of His character. Without this training, they would have naturally defaulted to what they knew: the harsh, graceless methods of the religious leaders who burdened people with rules but offered little compassion. Jesus came to break that cycle.
Church disputes are inevitable—as anyone who’s sat through a board meeting knows. That’s why Jesus instituted the ordinance of foot washing: to humble proud hearts and reconcile estranged brethren. Communion was meant to be more than ceremony. It was designed to clear out pride and self, so the Holy Spirit can dwell freely within us.
The Spirit vs. the Letter of the Law
Jesus came to magnify the law—not in a legalistic way, but through the lens of mercy and love. The letter of the law focused on outward reforms, shaped by unconverted human reasoning and judgment. It was enforced by men who misunderstood the character of Jesus, making the law ineffective in transforming lives. Instead of drawing people in, it pushed them away.
The letter of the law says too much, tries too hard to fix others, and often ends up hardening hearts. But the Spirit of the law—the spirit of Jesus—communicates with grace, discernment, and love. Sometimes silence is golden. A few words, spoken in the right tone and with the right spirit, can plant seeds that gently draw people back to God.
The leaders of Christ’s day had drifted far from this. Their treatment of people was rigid, controlling, and lacking compassion. Through His teachings and parables, Jesus was saying to His disciples: “When you become church leaders, you must know My heart. Don’t fall into the same trap. Reflect My character in the way you handle sin and brokenness in others.”
“If Your Brother Offends You”
“Moreover, if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone…” — Matthew 18:15
The Greek word for “trespass” in this verse means to offend—and offense is something we all experience. The disciples were offended by one another. The Pharisees were constantly offended by Jesus. And many times, we too are offended—often far too easily. This theme appears repeatedly in the surrounding passages (Matthew 17:27; 18:6, 8), showing that offense was a recurring issue—not only among the disciples and religious leaders, but even in attempts to discredit Christ. Yet Jesus never reacted in pride or retaliation. He remained patient, wise, and unmoved. Praise God for His steadfast character—we too can grow into this Christlike composure as His Spirit transforms us.
Because offenses are inevitable, Jesus gives us a clear and gracious pattern to follow. But before we address the one who offended us, we must first examine our own hearts. We know how easily our feelings can be hurt—and how those wounds can cloud our judgment. That’s why it’s so important to surrender our emotions to God and choose forgiveness before we speak. If we approach someone with unresolved hurt, our words—though truthful—may still do harm.
I highly recommend studying the chapter “In Contact with Others” from the book, Ministry of Healing by Ellen White. It beautifully outlines the spirit we need when dealing with others. When an offense is serious, Christ gives us guidance—but we must follow it in the right spirit, or we risk making reconciliation even harder.
In the previous chapter, the disciples asked why they couldn’t cast out a demon. Because they asked, they were ready to be taught—a key principle echoed in the book Education: “True education is not the forcing of instruction on an unready and unreceptive mind” (Ed 41.2). This is especially vital when ministering to young people and teens.
Recognizing the disciples’ frequent disputes and failure to resolve conflict in a Christlike manner, Jesus used the moment to deepen their training. He had just explained that their inability to cast out the demon was rooted in a lack of the right spirit toward one another. Now, He expands the lesson—teaching them how to handle offenses in a way that truly reflects the character of God.
The Process of Reconciliation
“But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established.” — Matthew 18:16
Notice Jesus’ emphasis on discretion: only one or two others should be involved—not a crowd, which could create intimidation rather than resolution. The goal is restoration, not humiliation. Jesus’ method protects the dignity of both parties and promotes honest dialogue.
Sadly, the religious leaders of Jesus’ day completely disregarded this principle. Instead of handling matters discreetly and justly, they held secret trials, fabricated accusations, and rushed Jesus into a secular court. The One who taught the proper way to handle disputes willingly submitted to the worst kind of injustice. And still, He remained compassionate and merciful—our perfect example. What a Savior! He practiced what He preached—even under betrayal.
When others mistreat us—especially when they ignore the counsel of Matthew 18—we can find comfort in remembering what Jesus endured. Rather than growing bitter, we can learn to love even those who handle things wrongly.
Interestingly, Jesus modeled His own principle when establishing His teachings. He said, “that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established,” and His life and words were recorded by four Gospel writers—going beyond the minimum He required. What a powerful example: whatever we require of others, we must be willing to practice ourselves.
As parents, mentors, or leaders, we must model what we ask of those under our care. Christ never asks us to do anything He hasn’t already done.
Taking It to the Church — A Spirit of Longsuffering and Restoration
“And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church: but if he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as a heathen man and a publican.” — Matthew 18:17
At this stage, the issue becomes more serious. If the offender refuses to listen after being approached individually and with witnesses, Jesus says to bring the matter before the church. But this step is still not about public shaming or swift rejection—it’s about giving every possible opportunity for repentance and restoration.
To “neglect to hear” in the Greek means to reject counsel, to close the heart to understanding. Jesus isn’t just addressing outward behavior—He’s appealing to the heart. He’s describing someone who refuses correction despite repeated, gracious appeals.
In teaching this, Jesus was preparing His disciples—future church leaders—to deal with the erring not with condemnation, but with compassion. Before they could shepherd others, they had to understand how He had dealt with their own failures: with mercy, patience, and redemptive grace.
This principle comes into sharp focus when we consider Judas. Scripture tells us Judas carried hidden resentment and bitterness that ultimately led to his betrayal of Christ. And yet, Jesus bore long with him. Education, p. 86, says that Judas was one of four who were “the objects of Christ’s greatest solicitude and the recipients of His most frequent and careful instruction.” Rather than distancing Himself, Jesus placed Judas in the inner circle, giving him every opportunity to choose repentance. That’s how far Christ was willing to go for one soul.
Scripture tells us Judas carried hidden resentment and bitterness that ultimately led to his betrayal of Christ. And yet, Jesus bore long with him. Education, p. 86, says that Judas was one of four who were “the objects of Christ’s greatest solicitude and the recipients of His most frequent and careful instruction.” Rather than distancing Himself, Jesus placed Judas in the inner circle, giving him every opportunity to choose repentance. That’s how far Christ was willing to go for one soul.
“Seeing the danger of Judas, He had brought him close to Himself, within the inner circle of His chosen and trusted disciples… All this that no possible saving influence might be lacking to that imperiled soul!” — Education, p. 92.4
When Jesus said to treat such a person “as a heathen man and a publican,” He wasn’t saying to hate or cast them out. Remember—Jesus loved and ministered to publicans and Gentiles. It simply means the relationship shifts. We no longer assume spiritual unity, but we still extend love, prayer, and hopeful pursuit.
“Let the wheat and the tares grow together” isn’t just a warning against premature judgment—it’s a divine call to mercy, patience, and trust in God’s timing. One of the most sacred ministries in the church is the patient, loving restoration of the erring—the ministry of reconciliation.
“Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted. Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” Galatians 6:1, 2.
2Corithians 5:18 And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation;
19 To wit, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation.
That was the heartbeat of Christ’s mission: to seek and save the lost, to labor for hearts entangled in sin with divine compassion. Whether the sinner is openly wayward or inwardly resistant like Judas, Christ calls us to the same ministry of longsuffering love.
Only after every effort has been made—and always with grief, not pride—may the church say, “Let him be unto thee as a heathen man and a publican.” But before arriving at such a solemn conclusion, we must first walk the long road of grace. And we don’t cast the person away forever, instead we must continue to pray, to love, and to long for their return with the yearning heart of Christ.
We can take inspiration from David’s love for King Saul—a difficult and erring “church member” whom he still honored.
As Song of Solomon 8:6–7 declares:
“Love is strong as death… Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it.”
Many “people” cannot quench love. Christ’s love is that strong. And He offers us that same unquenchable love—even for those who resist correction or wound us deeply.
Restoration in the Spirit of Meekness
“Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted. Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” — Galatians 6:1–2
Paul’s words echo the heart of Matthew 18. The call to restore the erring is not merely a church procedure—it is a spiritual work requiring gentleness, humility, and self-awareness. It’s not the task of the proud or impulsive, but of those walking in the Spirit.
This ties beautifully to Jesus’ earlier teaching in Matthew 18:3:
“Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.”
Before we can rightly deal with offenses, we must first be converted—humble, teachable, and childlike in spirit. Without this, we operate in pride, like the disciples who could not cast out the demon earlier in the chapter. And that pride makes us ineffective in Christ’s work.
So often, we attempt to correct others from a place of frustration or offense, but Paul warns us: “considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted.” If we forget our own vulnerability to sin, we risk becoming critical, impatient, or harsh. True restoration flows from a heart that knows its own need for grace.
To “bear one another’s burdens” means more than tolerating someone’s faults—it means entering into their struggle, walking with them patiently, and helping them carry what they cannot bear alone. This is the fulfillment of the law of Christ, whose entire life and death were about bearing our burdens.
Before moving forward in conflict resolution, we must ask: Am I spiritual? Am I meek? Am I bearing this burden with love—or reacting out of pride? These questions are essential. Restoring the erring is not about being right—it’s about being Christlike.
Handling Conflict within the Church
“And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church…” — Matthew 18:17
Jesus clearly instructed that unresolved issues should be brought before the church—not to outsiders, and certainly not to secular courts. This was a radical shift from what the religious leaders of His day practiced, as they often dragged spiritual matters into civil arenas. Without Christ’s instruction, the disciples—like many of us—would have simply copied what they saw modeled.
The Desire of Ages tells us that Pilate was already familiar with the Pharisees’ manipulative tactics, showing how common and damaging these patterns had become. But Jesus was calling His disciples—and us—to a new way of handling conflict: with spiritual discernment, humility, and grace.
Then in verse 18, Jesus says:
“Verily I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”
The Greek word for bind (δέω, deo) means “to place under obligation of the law,” “to forbid,” or “to declare illicit.” It also means “to be Godlike.” Isn’t that incredible? It reminds us that in matters of judgment, we are called to reflect the very character of God.
In this verse, Jesus grants authority to church leaders, assuring them that decisions grounded in His Word will be honored in heaven. Our judgments on earth must align with the spirit of heaven.
“He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” — Micah 6:8
Now consider Matthew 18:27:
“Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt.”
In Matthew 18:18 and 18:27, the word loosed points to forgiveness—releasing someone from debt, from guilt, from shame. The Greek word for compassion in this parable means that the master’s heart was deeply stirred with pity and tender mercy. This master represents our God. What a beautiful picture: when we come to Him, no matter the weight of our sin, His heart moves toward us in mercy. He doesn’t turn us away. He forgives. And as we see later in the parable, He doesn’t just forgive once—He forgives again and again. The kingdom of heaven operates on this principle of grace.
As 1 John 1:9 reminds us, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
This is the kind of Judge Jesus is—where justice and mercy walk hand in hand. Psalm 85:10 says it perfectly:
“Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.”
As members of Christ’s body, we are called to reflect that same balance. To bind or loose was never meant to be an exercise in control—but a ministry of redemption. Every decision, every judgment, must be guided by the heart of Christ—seeking not to condemn, but to heal and restore.
Agreement, Prayer, and Spiritual Wisdom
“Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.”
“For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” — Matthew 18:19–20
But what does it really mean to “agree”? It’s more than simply sharing an opinion. True agreement is unity of spirit—being of one accord, especially in the context of restoring someone who refuses to listen. That kind of unity doesn’t come naturally. It must be cultivated through surrender, discernment, and dependence on the Holy Spirit.
Christ knew we would tend to act out of personal hurt or grievance. That’s why He gave us this safeguard in verses 19 and 20. When we gather with others in prayer, it protects us from making decisions rooted in emotion. We’re not to handle conflict alone or rely on our own sense of justice. Instead, we’re to come together in the right spirit, submitting our hearts to God and inviting heaven to guide us.
We see this modeled beautifully at Pentecost. The disciples were of one accord, praying together—and Christ confirmed His presence by sending the Holy Spirit. In the same way, when we humbly come together in His name, He promises to be in our midst. Matthew 18:20 assures us that when believers unite in prayer—especially in conflict—Jesus Himself is there to impress our hearts with divine wisdom.
When we ask for the right spirit, God provides clarity and direction. He joins us in the process, ensuring our decisions reflect His mercy, truth, and love—not our own self-interest. Unlike human judgment, which is often reactive or biased, Christ’s judgment is always redemptive. He is never offended, never impulsive—always compassionate.
“If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally… and it shall be given him.” — James 1:5
“But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering.” — James 1:6
When we ask God for wisdom, we’re not just asking for direction—we’re expressing faith in Christ: in His righteousness, His Spirit, and His way of handling conflict. We’re saying, “Lord, I trust You to lead me in the right spirit.”
The Greek word for patience here is hypomonē. It reminds me of hypocrite—and that connection made me pause. Without Spirit-led patience, we risk misrepresenting Christ. Hypomonē is not passive—it’s enduring, especially in bearing with the erring. Just as Jesus patiently endures us, we are called to do the same for others.
This ties beautifully into James 3:17:
“But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy.”
That is the kind of wisdom we need in conflict. It refuses to show favoritism. It operates without hypocrisy. It is pure, peaceable, merciful, open to correction, and always rooted in Christlike love. This wisdom doesn’t come from policy or procedure—it comes from sitting at the feet of Jesus.
The word peaceable calls to mind Matthew 5:9: “Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.” Matthew 5 lays out the heart of Christian life—humility, mercy, purity—and the calling to be peacemakers. The book, Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing, gives rich insight into how we’re to live this out, especially in moments of tension or disagreement.
Let’s Go Back to Matthew 18:19 — Unity, Accountability, and Leadership
“Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.” — Matthew 18:19
The disciples, like many church leaders today, struggled with power dynamics. They sought individual authority, wanting to lead alone. But in Matthew 18:19, Jesus emphasized collaboration and unity in decision-making. Harmony between individuals helps ensure sound judgment and guards against the errors that arise when we act alone. A solitary leader is just as fallible as the one they seek to correct.
Through this teaching, Jesus was saying, “I am the Judge—because I can read hearts. I want you to understand the kind of Judge I am.” He warned against arbitrary rule—when personal grievances or pride influence leadership decisions—because such rule misrepresents the nature of God.
Arbitrary leadership is marked by irrationality, personal bias, and a desire for retribution. Those who operate this way may use their authority to control or retaliate in manipulative, self-serving ways, reflecting the spirit of Satan rather than Christ.
Jesus calls church leaders to hold each other accountable. Even the Godhead functions in unity, holding one another accountable—and astonishingly, allowing themselves to be accountable before the entire universe! What a profound display of humility and fairness.
Jesus’ interaction with Pilate, described in The Desire of Ages, illustrates His merciful nature even in suffering. He said:
“You would have no power over Me unless it had been given to you from above; therefore, the one who handed Me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.” — John 19:11 (paraphrased)
Ellen White reflects on this moment:
“Thus, the pitying Saviour, in the midst of His intense suffering and grief, excused as far as possible the act of the Roman governor who gave Him up to be crucified. What a scene was this to hand down to the world for all time! What a light it sheds upon the character of Him who is the Judge of all the earth!” — Desire of Ages, p. 736.7
This same mercy should guide us in how we deal with those who wrong us. As members of Christ’s body, we are called to emulate His forgiving spirit.
Consider how God dealt with Moses, who struck the rock in anger at the end of Israel’s wilderness journey. Despite his disobedience, God showed mercy, raising Moses from the dead and bringing him into heaven. What a Judge we have! Imagine Moses’ awe upon awakening to such grace.
The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant (Matthew 18:21–35)
“Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?” — Matthew 18:21
Out of all the apostles, I find myself relating most to Peter—earnest, outspoken, often impulsive, and deeply human. Peter thought he was being generous when he asked, “Seven times?” It’s as if he expected praise for being so “gracious.” But even if his motives were imperfect—perhaps struggling to forgive his own teammates—Jesus used the moment for something greater. That one question opened the door to one of the most powerful teachings on forgiveness ever spoken.
Jesus answered:
“I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven.” — v. 22
His response stunned everyone. It called them—and us—to a radically higher standard of grace.
Because Peter asked, Jesus was able to teach. Through that question—imperfect as it was—the disciples gained a deeper understanding of mercy. Not only did Jesus give an unimaginable number, but He followed it with a parable that drove the point home.
Praise God that Peter asked! His question stirred curiosity, invited reflection, and created space for revelation. Though limited in his thinking, Peter gave us all a gift: a moment that brought forth one of Christ’s most unforgettable parables on forgiveness.
“Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants…” — v. 23
The king represents God—the ultimate Judge. And when we face disputes, we too often step into a judging role, not just outwardly but in our thoughts.
The Greek word for account is logos—which means word. That’s profound. God isn’t only taking account of what we say, but of the thoughts behind our words. He sees how we speak, how we think—even what we never say aloud.
This ties back to James 1, where we’re reminded not to be found lacking. We want to be “perfect and entire, wanting nothing”—not destitute of the Spirit in how we treat or think about others.
Praise the Lord that Heaven takes account of our thoughts and desires—not just our actions. Think of the thief on the cross. He had a sincere desire to follow and obey the Lord, but he didn’t have time to live it out. Yet God counted his desire as righteousness—not because of what the thief did, but because of what Jesus had already done. That’s powerful. If the desire is there—if it’s in the heart—God sees it as done. Even when we don’t realize we’re sinning in our thoughts or attitudes, His righteousness still covers us. What a God of grace!
Jesus obeyed perfectly on our behalf. And like the thief on the cross, if our hearts are truly surrendered—even if we never fully act on our best intentions—God honors the desire. That gives me so much hope. Because honestly, our thoughts often run in the wrong direction without us realizing it. That’s why we desperately need to sit at the feet of Jesus, to meditate on His character, and to invite the Holy Spirit to search our hearts.
When someone offends us, it can be hard to forgive. But if we harbor judgmental thoughts—even if we never speak them—God still sees them. A silent grudge is just as real in His eyes. And in His mercy, Jesus asks us to surrender even those thoughts. Because He’s taking account not just of our behavior, but of the meditations of our heart. Only by giving them to Him can we become ready to reflect His character and stand in the judgment.
“He who searches the hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit…” — Romans 8:27
“The word of God… is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” — Hebrews 4:12
Logos—to God, a thought formed is a word spoken. And when those thoughts are wrong, and we cling to them instead of surrendering them, they begin to shape us. We think we own them—but in reality, they own us.
But when His gentle conviction comes—His gift of repentance—we are invited to let go. No matter how often those thoughts return, if we confess and surrender them, Jesus clothes us in His righteousness. Our thoughts no longer define us—He does. His life becomes our identity.
That’s why we must come quickly, as soon as we recognize the drift. Left unchecked, a thought becomes a pattern. But when we bring it to Christ and replace it with His Word, its grip weakens. Its voice fades. For His grace not only forgives—it transforms.
And that transformation happens at His feet. As we sit with Him, unhurried and open, and fix our gaze on His character, the heart begins to change. Slowly and steadily, He writes His Word on our minds and shapes us into His likeness.
“And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents.” — v. 24
This was an unpayable debt—an impossible sum no servant could repay. It represents our own debt to God: vast, overwhelming, and beyond our ability to settle.
In contrast, the debts others owe us—offenses, betrayals, unkindness—are payable. They may hurt deeply, but they are small compared to the mercy God has shown us. And yet, how often do we keep a ledger—tracking offenses, emotional debts, unmet expectations?
God doesn’t keep a ledger against us. He forgives freely—even before we ask. And because of that, we’ve been empowered to forgive others. He provides the grace—the spiritual revenue—we need to release people from their debts to us, just as we’ve been released from ours.
“The servant fell down… saying, ‘Lord, have patience with me.’” — v. 26
The word patience here is so rich—it means to have a long spirit, to not lose heart, to bravely endure, to bear with someone’s offenses, to be slow to anger and punishment, and to be gentle and mild. Isn’t that exactly how God is with us? Shouldn’t we reflect that same spirit toward one another?
And yet, when that same servant refused to forgive a fellow servant who owed him a very payable amount, it revealed that he had not truly received or appreciated the patience and mercy he had been shown. He had begged for longsuffering, but refused to extend even a glimpse of it. That is a solemn warning for us. If we ask for mercy but don’t allow it to change us, we’ve missed the very purpose of grace.
Forgiveness isn’t about waiting for the perfect apology or expecting someone to earn their way back. God doesn’t make us pay penance—so why do we expect others to earn our forgiveness? When we hold back grace until someone “makes it right,” we act in opposition to the very mercy we ourselves depend on.
The debt we owed to Jesus was unpayable—yet He canceled it without condition. Whether or not someone ever comes asking for our forgiveness, He gives us the power to let go. We forgive not because others deserve it, but because He first forgave us.
The Investigative Judgment and the Heart
“And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him.
So likewise shall My heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses.” — Matthew 18:34–35
This is not surface-level forgiveness. It must come “from your hearts.” That’s what makes this parable so deeply connected to the investigative judgment. It isn’t just about what we say or do—it’s about who we are becoming in response to God’s grace.
God doesn’t just look at our actions. He searches our thoughts, intentions, and desires. He sees the silent resentments, the quiet bitterness, the things we think no one else notices. Just because we don’t say something aloud doesn’t mean we haven’t spoken it in our minds. Even subtle responses—like acting differently around someone, giving the cold shoulder, or becoming distant—can reveal a heart that’s harboring something.
I know I’ve responded that way before. Those quiet reactions—the thoughts we keep inside—still speak, and Jesus hears them. He’s not only weighing what we’ve done, but also what we’ve thought and how we’ve responded in spirit. The investigative judgment matters deeply because it is God’s loving way of asking: Has My grace reached your heart?
That’s what the judgment is about. It’s not a checklist of sins, but a revelation of character. If we’ve truly received God’s mercy, it will be evident in how we extend mercy to others.
This parable begins with a man asking for time to repay a debt he could never repay. He pleads for patience—and the master, moved with compassion, forgives the entire debt. But when given the chance to extend even a fraction of that grace, he refuses. Why?
Because he never let the mercy he received transform his heart. He wanted forgiveness—but not a changed life.
And this is what the investigative judgment reveals: not simply whether we asked for forgiveness, but whether we let it change us. God is not waiting for perfect performance. He’s looking for surrendered hearts—hearts willing to be shaped by His mercy.
The warning at the end of the parable is sobering. It tells us that if we withhold forgiveness from others, we place ourselves outside the covering of God’s mercy. Not because He wants to reject us, but because we’ve rejected the very thing that would have saved us. We cannot cling to unforgiveness and grace at the same time.
“With what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.” — Matthew 7:2
This is not vindictive—it’s protective. God is safeguarding His kingdom from the very spirit that caused its fall: pride, selfishness, and an unwillingness to forgive. Heaven cannot be filled with those who still carry bitterness. It must be filled with those who love as Christ loved.
And that love is always redemptive.
The Spirit of Christ in Restoration
The final verses of Matthew 18 and the parable that follows remind us that Jesus is not just teaching church procedure—He is revealing His heart. Everything in this chapter flows from that. It’s not about legalism or cold correction, but about love that never gives up.
We are all debtors. We’ve all failed God countless times. And yet He continues to deal with us gently, patiently, and redemptively. When we truly grasp the mercy we’ve been shown, it changes how we see others—especially those who have fallen short.
Restoration is not about fixing people—it’s about inviting them back into fellowship with Christ. It’s about longing for their healing more than our vindication. That’s the Spirit of Christ. He came to “bind up the brokenhearted,” not to break them further.
Restoration is the work of heaven. And heaven never works through pride, coldness, or silent resentment. It works through humility, patience, prayer, and a love that reflects the long-suffering mercy of God. Christ calls us to deal with the erring as He has dealt with us—not with condemnation, but with compassion; not with distance, but with an invitation to come closer.
Whether it’s in our homes, our churches, or our hearts, the standard is always Jesus. He left the ninety-nine to seek the one. He bore with weakness. He confronted without crushing. He forgave before we even asked. The goal isn’t to win an argument or preserve control. It’s to win a soul.
Too often, even within the church, we measure people by their mistakes instead of by Christ’s mercy. But Matthew 18 calls us higher. It invites us into Christ’s way of restoring the erring: quietly, gently, patiently, and always with the goal of winning back a brother or sister.
“If he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother.” — Matthew 18:15
That’s the goal: gaining your brother—not proving a point or securing an apology, but restoring unity through love.
Let us remember: the aim of church discipline is not to condemn, but to restore. The process laid out in Matthew 18 is not a formula for exclusion—it is a pathway of redemption, modeled after Christ’s own dealings with His disciples. Let us walk that path with the Spirit of Christ, until every possible effort for reconciliation has been made.
If we allow His character to shape our responses to conflict, our churches and relationships will be transformed, reflecting the boundless love of God.
Christ’s Object Lessons says:
“The love of God still yearns over the one who has chosen to separate from Him, and He sets in operation influences to bring him back to the Father’s house.” — COL 202.1
So must we.
If we are to carry the final message of mercy to the world, we must first let it do its full work in us. That means no longer nursing quiet judgments, rehearsing offenses, or withholding grace. It means trading self-righteousness for the righteousness of Christ—and learning to restore others with the same tenderness He has shown us.
This is the culture of the kingdom. This is how heaven resolves conflict. And when we practice this spirit toward others, we don’t just preserve unity—we become a living testimony of God’s love.
And that is the call of Matthew 18.
Closing Quotes
“We should carefully consider what is our relation to God and to one another. We are continually sinning against God, but his mercy still follows us; in love he bears with our perversities, our neglect, our ingratitude, our disobedience. He never becomes impatient with us. We insult his mercy, grieve his Holy Spirit, and do him dishonor before men and angels, and yet his compassions fail not. The thought of God’s long-suffering to us should make us forbearing to one another. How patiently should we bear with the faults and errors of our brethren, when we remember how great are our own failings in the sight of God. How can we pray to our Heavenly Father, “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors,” if we are denunciatory, resentful, exacting in our treatment of others? God would have us more kind, more loving and lovable, less critical and suspicious. O that we all might have the Spirit of Christ, and know how to deal with our brethren and neighbors!” — RH February 24, 1891, par. 3
“The Lord is full of compassion for His suffering ones. What sins are too great for His pardon? He is merciful, and as such is infinitely more ready and more pleased to pardon than to condemn. He is gracious, not looking for wrong in us; He knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are but dust. In His boundless compassion and mercy He heals all our backslidings, loving us freely while we are yet sinners, withdrawing not His light, but shining on us for Christ’s sake.” — 7LtMs, Lt 14b, 1892, par. 4
“The continuity of Christian influence is the secret of its power, and this depends on the steadfastness of your manifestation of the character of Christ. Help those who have erred, by telling them of your experiences. Show how, when you made grave mistakes, patience, kindness, and helpfulness on the part of your fellow workers gave you courage and hope.
Until the judgment you will never know the influence of a kind, considerate course toward the inconsistent, the unreasonable, the unworthy. When we meet with ingratitude and betrayal of sacred trusts, we are roused to show our contempt or indignation. This the guilty expect; they are prepared for it. But kind forbearance takes them by surprise and often awakens their better impulses and arouses a longing for a nobler life.” — Ministry of Healing, p. 494–495
Prayer & Reflection
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for giving us clear counsel through Jesus on how to walk in humility, forgiveness, and love toward one another. Teach us to follow His steps in dealing with conflict—not in our own strength, but in the power of the Holy Spirit. Give us hearts that seek reconciliation, patience to listen, and grace to forgive, just as You have forgiven us. May our churches and relationships reflect the spirit of Christ, so that the world may see Your love in us. In Jesus’ name, Amen. 🙏
✨ What are your thoughts? I’d love to hear what the Holy Spirit impresses on your heart as you study this passage in Matthew 18. Please share your reflections in the comments below—I look forward to reading them! 💬📖