The Fifth Petition: “Forgive Us Our Debts, as We Also Have Forgiven Our Debtors.”

Tertullian. After calling upon God’s generosity, we must also seek His mercy. Food does not encompass all that we need and that is good for us. The Lord knew that He alone is ever without sin. Therefore He teaches us to pray for the forgiveness of our debts. This is a confession, a seeking of forgiveness. Whoever seeks forgiveness confesses sin. Thus it is proved that God accepts repentance as well; He desires it more than “the death of a sinner” (Ezek. 33:11). A debt in Scripture is a figure of sin, and it is subject to judgment and exaction, from which the one exacted will not be freed until he has paid everything—as the Lord depicted in the parable (Matt. 18:23–34). That parable as a whole relates to the interpretation of the present petition. For what is there depicted—that the servant, pardoned by his master, did not on that account spare his own debtor, and was therefore, when it was reported to the master, handed over to the torturer to exact his debt down to the last quadrant, that is, to the smallest remaining portion—this is meant to move us to forgive our own debtors, so that we may receive forgiveness from the Lord. With the same aim the Lord commanded in another place: “Forgive, and you will be forgiven” (Luke 6:37). And when Peter asked Him whether to forgive up to seven times, He said: “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy-seven times” (Matt. 18:22).

St. Cyprian of Carthage. After asking for food, we ask for forgiveness of sins, so that the person nourished by God may also live in God, and may care not only for temporal life but also for eternal life—and that life is attained when the sins are forgiven, which the Lord in His Gospel calls debts, saying: “All that debt I forgave you, because you besought me” (Matt. 18:32). And how necessary, how far-sighted and salutary is this reminder by which we sinners are prompted to pray about sins, so that the spirit comes to self-awareness in seeking God’s mercy! To eliminate self-satisfaction, as though we were innocent, and to avoid the danger of perishing through pride, we are commanded to pray daily for sins, and in this we are given the reminder and instruction that we sin daily as well. The same is indicated by John in his Epistle, saying: “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins” (1 John 1:8–9). In his Epistle he embraced both what we must ask about sins and that we will receive forgiveness if we ask. For he called the Lord faithful—that is, faithfully fulfilling His promise—and He who taught us to pray for our sins and debts has promised us the mercy of the Father and the forgiveness that follows. To this the Lord clearly added and appended a law that constrains us by a certain condition and pledge, by which we must ask that our debts be forgiven just as we forgive our debtors, knowing that we cannot obtain forgiveness of sins if we do not do the same toward our debtors. Therefore in another place He says: “With the measure you use, it will be measured to you” (Matt. 7:2). And the servant who refused to forgive his fellow servant, when his master had forgiven him his entire debt, was cast into prison; he lost the indulgence that had been shown him by the Lord, because he himself refused to show indulgence to his fellow servant (Matt. 18:27–34). The Lord sets this forth still more forcefully and with greater severity of judgment in His commandments: “And when you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your heavenly Father also may forgive you your trespasses. But if you do not forgive, neither will your heavenly Father forgive your trespasses” (Mark 11:25–26). You are therefore left with no excuse on the day of judgment: you will be judged by your own verdict, and you will be treated as you yourself have treated others.

God commands that only those who are peaceful, harmonious, and of one mind dwell in His house. He wants those who have been reborn to remain as He has made them by the second birth; that those who have become children of God should abide in God’s peace; that those of us who share one spirit should have one heart and one mind. He does not accept the sacrifice of one who is at enmity, and He commands such a one to return from the altar and first be reconciled with his brother, so that afterward he may be able to propitiate God with peaceful prayers. The greatest sacrifice for God is our peace and fraternal harmony—a people united in the unity of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. At the first sacrifices offered by Abel and Cain, God did not look at their gifts but at their hearts, so that the one whose heart was pleasing was pleasing in his gifts. The peaceful and righteous Abel, having offered his sacrifice to God in innocence, gave a lesson also to others who bring a gift to the altar—to come there with the fear of God, with a simple heart, with the law of righteousness, with the peace of harmony. Having offered his sacrifice to God with such a disposition, he himself then became a sacrifice to God: as a guardian of the Lord’s righteousness and peace, he was the first, by enduring martyrdom, to foreshadow the Lord’s passion through the glory of his blood. Such are those who are finally crowned by the Lord! Such are those who will judge with the Lord on the day of judgment! By contrast, one who is at enmity and discord, who does not have peace with his brothers—according to the testimony of the blessed apostle and Sacred Scripture—even if he suffers death for the name of Christ, will still remain guilty of fraternal enmity (1 Cor. 13:3); and in Scripture it is written: “Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer” (1 John 3:15), and a murderer cannot attain the Kingdom of Heaven or live with God. One who has preferred to imitate Judas rather than Christ cannot be with Christ. What a sin this is—one not washed away even by the baptism of blood! What a transgression—one that even martyrdom cannot expiate!

St. Gregory of Nyssa. The discourse, pressing ever forward, has arrived at the very summit of virtue. For in the words of this prayer it depicts what the one who approaches God must be like, as required by those words; it shows that such a person is already beyond the boundaries of human nature and has been made like God Himself in virtue—so that, doing what is fitting for God alone to do, he himself appears to become a second god. For the forgiveness of debts is a property of God, and a preeminent one—for it is said that no one “can forgive sins except God alone” (Luke 5:21). Therefore, if someone in his life has made himself like the distinguishing marks of the Divine nature, he himself in some measure becomes the same as the One with whom he has shown exact likeness in himself.

So what does this word teach? First, with the boldness one has earned the right to through the preceding life, to recognize in oneself a likeness to God, and then to dare to call God one’s Father and to ask forgiveness for past transgressions—because not everyone who asks can receive what they desire, but only the one who by deeds has earned the right to ask with boldness. For this is precisely what the Lord is prompting us toward in this saying: namely, when approaching the Benefactor, be yourself a benefactor; when approaching the Good, be good; when approaching the Just, be just; when approaching the Forbearing, be forbearing; when approaching the Compassionate, be compassionate; and likewise be all else in kind—when approaching the Kind-hearted, the Gracious, the Generous with goods, the Merciful to all—and if there is anything else that is divine, resembling all of this in disposition, acquire thereby boldness in prayer. Therefore, just as it is impossible for the wicked to be at home with the good, or for one covered with impure filth to have communion with the pure and undefiled, so hardheartedness cuts off the one who approaches God’s compassion from that compassion. Therefore, whoever holds a man captive for debts and deals with him harshly has by his own character removed himself from God’s compassion. For what fellowship is there between compassion and cruelty, between a loving disposition and ferocity, and between all that stands opposed to evil and what belongs to the opposing side—which stands in such irreconcilable resistance to it that one given over to it is necessarily removed from its opposite? Just as one who has become the prey of death is no longer alive, and one who enjoys life is removed from death, so one who approaches God’s compassion must be entirely free from all harshness. And whoever has become free from everything understood under the name of vice, by such a character in some way becomes divine, advancing within himself what reason recognizes also concerning the Divine nature.

You see to what greatness the Lord raises those who hear Him through the words of this prayer, transforming in some measure human nature into the divine and decreeing that those who approach God should themselves become gods. “Why,” He says, “do you come to God stricken with fear, scourged by your own conscience, in a servile manner? Why do you yourself close off the boldness that is contained in the freedom of the soul and from the beginning essentially belongs to its nature? Why do you flatter with words the One who cannot be flattered? Why do you approach with obliging and ingratiating speech the One who looks upon deeds? You, endowed with freedom and wisdom, can with authority possess every good that God gives. Be your own judge. Pronounce upon yourself a saving verdict. You wish God to forgive your debts? Forgive them yourself; God has spoken the verdict; your judgment upon your kinsman, over whom you have power, whatever it may be, is also your own verdict. What you yourself know about yourself has been confirmed concerning you also by the judgment of God.”

But who could fittingly unfold all the greatness of the word of God? The thought contained in it surpasses verbal expression. “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.” The thought that comes to my mind at this point—it is bold even to hold it in mind, let alone to express it in words. For what is being said? Just as the one who advances in good has God set before him as a model for imitation, in the words of the apostle: “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1), so, conversely, it is required that your own disposition toward good become a pattern for God—the order is in some way reversed, and we dare to hope that, just as the good is accomplished in us by imitating God, so God will imitate our deeds when we advance in something good. And you will be able to say to God: “What I have done, do You also; imitate Your servant, You who are Lord; the poor and lowly—You who reign over all; I have forgiven debts—do not exact them, You also! I honored the petitioner—do not reject the one who asks You! I sent my debtor away rejoicing—let Your debtor be likewise! Do not let Yours be sadder than mine! Let both give equal thanks to those who showed them mercy! Let it be confirmed through both of us together that equal forgiveness is granted both to my debtor and to Yours! My debtor is such a one, and Yours is I; whatever verdict I gave concerning my debtor, let the same take effect with You as well; I released—release You also! I forgave—forgive You also! I showed great mercy to my kinsman—imitate You also, O Lord, the compassion of Your servant.”

“But my transgressions before You are heavier than what my debtor has done before me. I acknowledge this; yet consider also how greatly You surpass in every good. It is right for You to bestow upon us who have sinned a mercy proportionate to the superabundance of Your power. I showed a small compassion, because my nature cannot contain a greater one; but You—however much You desire, Your power will not hinder Your generosity.”

But let us understand more carefully the present clause of the prayer; examining its meaning may perhaps serve us as a certain guide to a lofty life. Let us therefore inquire what the debts are to which human nature is subject, and also what the debts are whose forgiveness lies within our power—knowing this will give us a sufficient understanding of the superabundance of God’s gifts. Let us therefore make here an enumeration of human transgressions before God. Man became liable to punishment from God: first, for having turned away from his Creator and surrendered himself to the adversary, becoming a fugitive and apostate from the One who is his Master by nature; second, for having exchanged free self-governance for wicked slavery to sin and preferring to be under the self-rule of a destructive power rather than dwelling with God. And is this—not to gaze upon the beauty of the Creator but to turn one’s face toward the ugliness of sin—to be reckoned as any lesser evil? And what kinds of punishment ought one to consider worthy of the disdain for divine goods and the preference for the baits of the evil one? The defacement of the image, the corruption of the divine features imprinted in us at the beginning of creation, the loss of the coin, the departure from the father’s table, the familiarity with the fetid life of swine, the squandering of precious wealth—and all such transgressions as can be seen by means of Scripture and reason—what words could enumerate them?

Therefore, since the human race for such offenses is liable to punishment from God, it seems to me that the word of God, through the teaching set forth in the prayer, instructs us toward prayerful communion with God in such a way that even if one among us is furthest removed from common human transgressions, he should never approach with such boldness as if he had a clear conscience. For perhaps someone, like that rich young man, having ordered his life according to the commandments, may rightly, like him, boast of his life and say to God: “All these things I have kept from my youth” (Matt. 19:20)—and may even suppose that for him, as one who has not transgressed any of the commandments, the petition for the forgiveness of debts—which befits only those who have sinned—would be utterly improper. Such words, he might say, befit one defiled by fornication, or one charged with greed—which amounts to idolatry—who must ask for forgiveness; and in general it is beautiful and fitting for anyone whose conscience has been wounded by any transgression to appeal to God’s mercy. But if someone is the great Elijah, or acts “in the spirit and power of Elijah” (Luke 1:17), or is great “among those born of women” (Matt. 11:11), or is Peter, or Paul, or John, or another whose excellence is attested by the Divine Scriptures—why should such a person use these expressions, through which forgiveness of debts is sought by one who bears no debt of sin? This is precisely so that no one, having something like this in view, might fall into arrogance like that Pharisee who did not know what he was by nature. For had he known that he was a man, he would surely have learned from Holy Scripture not to present his nature as free from defilement, since Scripture says: “You will not find among people one whose life could pass even a single day without defilement” (Job 14:4–5). Therefore, lest something like this befall the soul of one who comes to God in prayer, the word of God commands him not to look at his achievements, but to call to mind the common debts of human nature—in which every person without doubt participates, as one who shares in that nature—and to entreat the Judge to grant forgiveness of transgression.

For since Adam lives in us and each of us is a man, as long as we see upon our nature these garments of skin and the swiftly fading leaves of this material life—which, having been stripped of the eternal and radiant garments, we sewed for ourselves to our own harm, clothing ourselves in diversions, glory, short-lived honors, and life-destroying pleasures of the flesh instead of the divine raiment—and as long as we look upon this fleshly dwelling-place where we are condemned to dwell: as soon as we turn toward the east—not only because that is where God appears to us (for He, as omnipresent, is confined to no particular place, but equally holds all things), but because in the east is our original homeland, I mean the dwelling in paradise from which we were expelled—“The Lord God planted a garden in Eden in the east” (Gen. 2:8)—therefore, as soon as we turn our gaze toward the east and call to mind our exile from the bright and eastern regions of blessedness, we rightly then join in these words—we who have been dismissed by the worthless fig tree of life, rejected from the eyes of God, who voluntarily surrendered to the serpent that eats earth and crawls upon the earth, that goes on his chest and belly and counsels us to do the same: to give ourselves over to earthly pleasures, to occupy our hearts with thoughts that creep and drag along the ground, and to walk on the belly—that is, to care for a pleasure-loving life. Being in this state, therefore, like the prodigal son after his long misery of tending swine—as soon as we, like him, come to ourselves and bring to mind our Heavenly Father, we do well then to use these words: “Forgive us our debts.”

Therefore, even if someone were Moses or Samuel or another distinguished for virtue, he nonetheless, being human, considers these words fitting for himself, as one who shares in the nature of Adam and is thereby a participant also in his fall. For just as the apostle says, “as in Adam all die” (1 Cor. 15:22), the words appropriate for Adam at repentance ought to be common to all who have died with him—so that we, when forgiveness of transgressions is granted, may again, as the apostle says, be saved by the grace of the Lord (Eph. 2:5). This is said so that someone looking at the broader picture may grasp what is offered in the word. But if one seeks the true meaning of the saying, I think it will not be necessary for us to raise the concept to a general view of nature, because conscience alone is sufficient—with regard to each act of life—to make the petition for mercy necessary.

For in this world our life is, I believe, subject to manifold influences—both with respect to the soul and understanding, and with respect to the bodily senses—so that it is difficult or altogether impossible not to be drawn toward sin by at least some one passion. This pleasure-loving life is divided, with respect to the body, according to our senses, and with respect to the soul, manifests itself in the impulse of reason and the movement of free will—who then is so elevated and endowed with such wisdom as to escape every defilement of vice in both these dimensions? Who is sinless in eye? Who is innocent in ear? Who is free from this bestial pleasure of the throat? Who is clean from contact with sin through touch? Who is unaware of that riddle put forward by Scripture: “death enters through our windows” (Jer. 9:21)? For the senses, by means of which the soul communicates with external things and occupies itself with them by choice, Scripture has called windows—which, by the word of Scripture, also pave the way for the entry of death. Indeed, the eye often becomes the entry-point for many deaths: it sees someone enraged and is itself stirred up to the same passion; or it sees someone prospering beyond his desert and is inflamed with envy; or it sees the proud and falls into hatred; or it sees some beautifully colored object or a pleasing arrangement of features, and plunges wholly into desire for what attracts it. The ear also opens the windows of death—for together with what it hears, it admits into the soul many passions: fear, grief, irritation, pleasure, desire, unrestrained laughter, and the like. And the gratification of taste, as someone might say, is the mother of all subsequent evils. For who does not know that care for the throat is the root of nearly all transgressions in life? From it come luxury, drunkenness, gluttony, disorderly conduct, overeating, surfeit, a dissolute life, and a bestial and irrational fall into the passions of dishonor. Likewise the sense of touch constitutes the extreme limit of all transgressions; everything that sensualists do for the body belongs to the category of ailments of the sense of touch—a detailed description of which would be lengthy; and it is improper to mix into weighty subjects everything that serves to reproach the sense of touch. And as for the whole swarm of transgressions of the soul and free will—could any words even enumerate them? It is said: from within “come evil thoughts” (Matt. 15:19)—and a list is appended of what defiles us through thought. Therefore, if snares of sin are spread everywhere for us through all the senses and the heart’s movements of the soul, “who can boast,” as Wisdom says, “that he has a clean… heart” (Prov. 20:9)? “Who… is clean… from defilement?” — as Job bears similar witness (Job 14:4). And defilement for the purity of the soul is pleasure in its many forms, mixed into human life by many means—by soul and body, by thoughts and feelings, by intentional movements and bodily actions. So whose soul is clean from this defilement? Who has not been struck by conceit? Who has not been trampled by the foot of pride? Who has not been shaken by a sinful hand? Whose foot has not hastened toward vice? Who has not been defiled by a shameless eye, cast into uncleanness by an ignorant ear, or occupied by the sense of taste? Whose heart has remained unmoved by vain impulses?

Since all of this exists within us—and in those who live like beasts it is very bad and intolerable, while in those more attentive to themselves it is more bearable—yet all who share our nature always and inevitably participate in the failings of that nature. Therefore, falling before God in prayer, we ask that our debts be forgiven. But such a voice is not received and does not reach the divine hearing unless our conscience also cries out together with it that sharing the gift of mercy with others is a beautiful thing. For whoever considers that loving-kindness befits God (and if he did not consider it fitting, he would not ask of God for something unfitting and inappropriate), from that person justice demands that he confirm by his own deeds his judgment about the beautiful—lest he himself hear from the righteous Judge: “Physician, heal yourself.” You implore me for loving-kindness that you yourself do not share with your neighbors. You ask for the remission of debts—why then do you yourself torment your debtor? You beseech that the bond against you be blotted out, while you yourself carefully keep the documents of those who have borrowed from you? You ask for a reduction of your debt account, while you increase what was lent at interest? Your debtor is in prison, while you are in the house of prayer. He suffers for debts, while you seek the remission of debt? Your prayer is not heard, because the voice of the suffering one drowns it out. If you release the bodily debt, your soul’s bonds will be released. If you forgive, you will be forgiven; you will be your own judge, you will prescribe for yourself your own law—and by your disposition toward the one lying at your feet, you pronounce judgment upon yourself from above.

Therefore, if we intend to bring to God a petition for mercy and forgiveness, let us prepare the boldness of a clear conscience and present our own life as an intercessor for the prayer we utter—so that we may truly be able to say: “As we also” have forgiven “our debtors.”

St. Cyril of Jerusalem. “And forgive us our debts…” For we have many sins; we fall by word and thought, and we do much that is worthy of condemnation. Therefore “if we say we have no sin,” we speak as John says (1 John 1:8). “As we also forgive…” We enter into an agreement with God, imploring Him to forgive us our sins as we forgive the debts of our neighbors. Therefore, keeping in mind what we receive and in exchange for what, let us not wait and delay in mutually forgiving one another. The offenses committed against us are small, trivial, and easily remedied; but the sins we have committed against God are great and require the loving-kindness that belongs to God alone. Therefore be careful, and do not, on account of minor and trivial offenses against yourself, close off for yourself the possibility of receiving God’s forgiveness for the most grievous sins.

St. John Chrysostom. Furthermore—since it happens that we sin even after the baptismal font of regeneration—the Savior, wishing to show His great loving-kindness even in this case, commands us to come before the loving God with a petition for the remission of our sins, and to say thus: “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.” Do you see the depth of God’s mercy? After the removal of so many evils, and after the ineffably great gift of justification, He again grants forgiveness to those who sin. That this prayer belongs to the faithful is shown both by the canons of the Church and by the very beginning of the Lord’s Prayer itself. One who is not yet illumined by faith cannot call God Father. But if the Lord’s Prayer belongs to the faithful, and if it commands them to pray for the remission of sins, then it is plain that even after baptism the beneficial use of repentance is not abolished. If Christ had not wished to show this, He would not have commanded us to pray in this manner. But since He mentions sins, commands us to ask for their forgiveness, and teaches us how we may obtain this forgiveness—and by this very fact makes the path easy for us—He undoubtedly gave this rule of prayer because He Himself fully knew, and wished to instill in us, that even after baptism sins can be washed away. By the reminder of sins He instills humility in us; by the command to forgive others He destroys vindictiveness in us; and by the promise of forgiveness to us in return He establishes good hope within us and teaches us to reflect on the ineffable loving-kindness of God. Especially worthy of note is the fact that in each of the aforementioned petitions He mentioned all the virtues, and by this final petition He also encompasses vindictiveness. The fact that God’s name is hallowed through us is an indisputable proof of a perfect life; the fact that His will is done shows the same; the fact that we call God Father is a mark of a blameless life. All of this already contains within it that we should lay aside anger toward those who offend us; yet the Savior was not satisfied with this, but wishing to show what care He takes in rooting out vindictiveness among us, He speaks of it separately, and after the prayer He recalls not some other commandment, but the commandment about forgiveness, saying: “For if you forgive people their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you” (Matt. 6:14). Thus this remission primarily depends on us, and the judgment pronounced upon us lies within our own power. So that no one lacking understanding, being condemned for a great or small transgression, might have grounds to complain about the judgment, the Savior makes you yourself—the very guilty party—the judge over your own case, and speaks to you as if saying: whatever judgment you pronounce upon yourself, that same judgment I will pronounce upon you; if you forgive your fellow, you will receive from Me the same benefit—though this latter is in reality far greater than the former. You forgive another because you yourself are in need of forgiveness, while God forgives without Himself being in need of anything; you forgive a fellow servant, while God forgives a servant; you are guilty of countless sins, while God is sinless. On the other hand, the Lord shows His loving-kindness in that, although He could forgive all your sins even without your act, He wishes to benefit you in this as well—in all things providing you occasions and incentives for meekness and loving-kindness; He drives out brutishness from you, quenches anger in you, and in every way desires to unite you with your fellow members. What will you say to this? Perhaps that you have unjustly suffered some evil from your neighbor? If so, then your neighbor has sinned against you; but if you suffered it justly, then there is no sin in him. And yet you too come before God intending to obtain forgiveness for similar, and indeed far greater, sins. Moreover, even before receiving forgiveness, did you not already receive much, when you were taught to preserve a human soul within yourself and were instructed in meekness? Beyond this, a great reward awaits you in the age to come, for then no account of any of your sins will be required from you. So what punishment shall we deserve, if even after receiving such rights we neglect our own salvation? Will the Lord heed our petitions when we ourselves show no pity for ourselves in that which is entirely within our power?

With the words “Give us… our bread… for this day,” having taught us high wisdom—to cast our care upon God, confident that He cares for us—and knowing that it is impossible for us, as people clothed in mortal bodies, not to fall, the Lord further teaches us to say in prayer: “and forgive us our debts…” These words bring three goods at once: to those who have attained the heights of virtue He teaches humility and exhorts them not to rely on their own labors, but to fear, to tremble, and to remember their former sins—as the divine Paul himself did, who after countless labors said: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the chief” (1 Tim. 1:15). He did not say “I was,” but “I am,” indicating that he unceasingly remembered his sins. Thus to those who have attained the heights of virtue the Lord provides security through humility by these words; and to those who have fallen after the grace of holy Baptism He does not allow them to despair of their salvation, but teaches them to ask of the physician of souls the medicine of forgiveness. Moreover, these words instruct in loving-kindness. He desires that we be gentle toward the guilty, free from rancor toward those who sin against us, that we gain forgiveness for ourselves by forgiving them, and that we ourselves prepare in advance the measure of loving-kindness. For we ask that as much be granted to us as we ourselves give to our neighbors, and we seek for ourselves the same forgiveness that we give to our own debtors.

St. John Cassian. God’s ineffable mercy! It not only transmitted to us the form of prayer, not only set forth for us the rules of morality through which we can please God, and not only tears out the very roots of anger and despondency by the power of the prescribed form of unceasing prayer—but even provides those who pray with a means of obtaining mercy and love for themselves on the Day of the Revelation of God’s Judgment, and in a certain sense grants us the power to soften the decision of our Judge, and as it were to oblige Him to forgive our transgressions by the example of our own forgiveness: “Forgive us,” we say to Him, “as we also forgive.” Therefore, relying on this prayer, every person who has forgiven his own debtors—but not the debtors of his Lord—may boldly ask for the remission of sins. For some among us (which is worst of all) are usually merciful and very indulgent toward those acts that offend God, however great the transgressions may be, while on the contrary they are harsh and merciless in avenging the slightest offenses against themselves. Therefore, whoever does not forgive from his whole heart a brother who has sinned against him will by this prayer be seeking for himself not pardon but condemnation—and by his own acknowledgment calls down upon himself a strict judgment, saying: “Forgive me as I have forgiven.” For if this prayer of his is heard, then in correspondence with his example, what else must follow but implacable wrath and an unconditional sentence of punishment? So if we wish to be judged mercifully, we ourselves must be merciful toward those who have sinned against us; for as much as we forgive those who have caused us some harm by their malice, so much will be forgiven to us. Some, fearing lest by uttering these words of the prayer they appear to accuse themselves more than excuse themselves, pass over them in silence while the whole congregation sings them in church. But it is in vain that they try to use such cunning before the Judge of all, who desired to show His subjects in advance how He would judge them—that is, He showed us such a manner of judgment by which He does not wish to appear stern and merciless, but as we wish to be judged by Him, so we must judge our brothers if they sin against us in anything: “For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy” (James 2:13).

Blessed Augustine. By “debts” sins are clearly meant here, as also on another occasion—when they reported concerning the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices, and concerning the eighteen killed by the falling tower of Siloam—the Lord said: “Do you suppose that those Galileans were worse sinners than all other Galileans, because they suffered in this way?” And then He added: “Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13:2–3). So here we are not compelled to forgive money to debtors, but that by which others have sinned against us. We are commanded to forgive money by the precept given earlier: “And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well” (Matt. 5:40). But here too it is not made obligatory for every monetary debtor to be forgiven—only the one who refuses to repay with such unwillingness that he is even ready to go to court: “The Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome,” as the Apostle says (2 Tim. 2:24). So when someone, neither willingly nor by persuasion, refuses to repay the money owed, one must forgive it. For if he does not want to repay, he does so for one of two reasons: either because he does not have it, or because he is miserly and greedy for another’s property. But both reveal poverty: the first is material poverty, and the second is poverty of soul. Therefore, whoever forgives such a person the debt forgives one who is poor and performs a Christian act. However, if someone, holding in his heart a readiness to forgive what is owed to him, through gentleness and friendliness so works upon his debtor that the debtor repays him—caring not so much about the return of the money as about correcting the person, for whom it is surely ruinous to have the means to repay and not to repay—he not only commits no fault, but does a beneficial deed: so that by appropriating another’s money the debtor may not suffer harm to his soul, with which no other harm can compare. From this one can nevertheless conclude that in this fifth petition, although it speaks not directly of money but of everything by which anyone offends against us, monetary debt may also be understood here. For whoever does not repay you the money owed, when he has the means to repay it, sins against you. And if you do not forgive this sin, you cannot say: “Forgive us, as we also forgive.”

We ask that our debts be forgiven; for all of us are debtors before God—not in money, but in sins. You may say: and you too? — I reply: and we too. And you, holy bishops, are debtors? Yes—we too are debtors. Really? Surely not, my lord; do not say something untrue about yourself. I am not saying something untrue about myself, but speaking the truth: we are debtors. And “if we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us” (1 John 1:8). And we have been baptized, and yet we are debtors. Not because anything remains that was not forgiven in baptism; but because, as we live, we accumulate that which stands in need of daily forgiveness. Those who depart this life immediately after baptism ascend without any debt at all and pass into the heavenly dwellings. But those who, having been baptized, remain living in this life—due to moral weakness they accumulate within themselves much that, though it does not cause the ship of life to sink, must nevertheless be bailed out. For if it is not bailed out, little by little so much will seep in that the whole ship will be submerged. To pray in the manner shown is precisely to bail oneself out. And if it had not been given to us to cleanse ourselves daily through holy prayer in this way, we would find ourselves in far greater extremity—despite the fact that in the bath of regeneration all our sins were washed away. But thanks be to the Lord! Almsgiving and prayers cleanse our sins—only let such sins not be committed as would deprive us of our daily bread (holy communion); only let us avoid those sins that incur strict condemnation.

Let none of you consider yourself righteous, as if you had no need to say: “Forgive us our debts.” You may be far from idol-worship, astrology, and sorcery; you may be untouched by heresy and schism; you may recoil from murder, fornication, robbery, false witness, and all such abominations—but beyond these there is much by which a person sins. By gazing with desire at what is forbidden, one sins. But who can restrain the swift movement of the eye? — The eye, however, you can immediately close if you wish; but the ear you cannot always close, and it takes in against your will indecent, impure, seductive, slanderous, and blasphemous words. On hearing something shameful, do you not sin with your ear, even if you do not do it in deed? And how many sins does the tongue commit—often even such as call for exclusion from the cup? Idle talk, gossip, slander, blasphemy—these are its work. But suppose the hand does nothing evil, the foot runs toward no harm, the eye turns toward no desire, the ear receives nothing indecent, the tongue speaks nothing improper: who will control one’s thoughts, tell me? Does it not often happen, my brothers, that when we pray, our thoughts wander who knows where, having forgotten before Whom we stand and before Whom we lie prostrate on the ground? If all such things are gathered together, surely they ought to weigh on the conscience, even though each one separately is a small thing. What difference does it make—whether lead presses you down or sand? Lead presses by its mass, and grains of sand by their number. Each grain is trivial, but when many are gathered together they can weigh just as heavily as lead. Small sins! Do you not see how rivers are formed from drops of water? Small they are, yet numerous.

Let us therefore always cry out—and cry out sincerely: “Forgive us our debts,” fulfilling in deed what follows: “as we also forgive our debtors.” God is pleased to enter into an agreement with us. So does the Lord your God say to you: “Forgive, and I will forgive. You have not forgiven: you yourself act against yourself, not I.” So forgive everything that anyone holds in his heart against another. Forgive from the heart—and be assured that at that very moment all your sins are forgiven, those committed by word, deed, and thought. Who can live on this earth and have no enemy? But strive to love them. Your fiercest enemy cannot cause you as much harm as you cause yourself, if you do not love your enemy. He can harm your fields, or your livestock, or your house, or your servant, or your maidservant, or your son, or your wife, or—at most, if power is given to him—your flesh. Is all of this as destructive as when you, by not forgiving him, cause harm to your own soul? Stretch yourselves, beloved, toward such perfection—I implore you. And do not think that this is impossible: I know, I have known, I have seen with my own eyes Christians who love their enemies. That we too may succeed in this, believe that it is possible, and pray that in this regard too the will of God may be done in you. What arouses your anger toward your enemy? Surely not human nature. Do you have him as an enemy because he has a soul and a body? — For you have the same: you have a soul, and he has a soul; you have a body, and he has a body. He is of the same nature as you: both were created from earth and given life by the Lord. He is the same as you: see in him your brother. The first two—Adam and Eve—were our parents: he the father, she the mother. Therefore we are brothers. But let us set aside this original ancestry; God is our Father, the Church is our mother—therefore we are brothers. But my enemy is a pagan, a Jew, a heretic, you say. Then pray, and he will become what you are, and together with everything else, your enmity will also disappear.

And yet you all say: who can do this? Who does this? — May God accomplish this in your hearts. — And I know that few do it: but those who do are great, they are truly spiritual. Are all the faithful who approach the altar in the church and receive the Body and Blood of Christ like this? Are they all? — And yet they all say: “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.” God will justly say to them: you ask me to do what I promised, when you yourselves do not do what I have commanded? What did I promise? — To forgive your debts. What did I command? — That you also forgive your debtors. But how can you say you are doing this, when you do not love your enemies? — What then are we to do, brothers? How small the flock of Christ has become! If only those who love their enemies should say: “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors,” then I do not know what to do, I do not know what to say. I would say to you: if you do not love your enemies, then do not pray. But I dare not; rather I say: pray, that you may come to love. Should I tell you: if you do not love your enemies, do not say this petition in the Lord’s Prayer: “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors”? — But if you do not say it, your sins will remain on you. And so: if you do not say it, they will not be forgiven; if you say it and do not act accordingly, they will not be forgiven either. There is only one thing left: both to say it and to do it, so that you may be forgiven.

“Forgive, and you will be forgiven,” said Christ the Lord (Luke 6:37). And what do you say in prayer? — “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.” So: forgive, Lord, as we forgive. You say this: so forgive us, Father in heaven, our debts, as we also forgive our debtors? — This you must also do; and if you do not do it, you will perish. When an enemy asks for forgiveness, forgive him at once. Is even that too much for you? — It would be much to love an enemy when he is raging and doing evil. But is it really too much for you to love a man who comes to you with humble entreaty? Yet I would wish that even then (when he was raging) you would look on him with goodwill; I would wish that, while enduring his malice, you would remember the Lord who said: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). This above all I would desire—that even when your enemy plots against you, you would look to the Lord your God who spoke those words. Perhaps you will say: He did this as the Lord, as Christ, as the Son of God, the Only-begotten, as the Word made flesh; but I am a weak and wretched man—how can I measure up to that? — If it is too much for you to imitate your Lord, bring to mind your fellow servant. St. Stephen was being stoned, and under the blows of the stones, kneeling down, he prayed saying: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them” (Acts 7:60). They were hurling stones at him, not asking forgiveness; yet he prayed for them. Such is the person I would have you be. Lift yourself up a little. Why do you always drag your heart along the ground? Do you hear: “Let us lift our hearts to heaven”? Rise up, then, love your enemy. If you cannot love him when he is raging, love him at least when he asks forgiveness. Love the man who says: brother, I have sinned, forgive me. If you will not forgive him at that moment, I will not say that you are driving prayer from your heart;—but that you are excluding yourself from the book of life.

So when your enemy asks forgiveness, forgive him—release the hostility toward him from your heart: hostility, I say, release from your heart, not merely the demand for repayment of a debt. — You may say: he is pretending, he is deceiving. — O, you who presume to judge another’s heart! Tell me your father’s thoughts, tell me your own thoughts from yesterday. He is pleading, asking forgiveness; forgive him, forgive him completely. If you do not forgive, you harm not him but yourself. You will not forgive, fellow servant to your fellow servant; so he will go to the Lord—his and yours—and say to Him: My Master! I asked my fellow servant to forgive me; he refused. You forgive! — And He will most certainly forgive. In this way, that man will leave his Lord’s presence released, while you will remain bound. How bound? The time of prayer will come, the moment will arrive when you say: “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors”: and the Lord will answer you: “Wicked servant! I forgave you the entire debt because you begged me; should you not also have shown mercy to your companion, as I showed mercy to you?” (Matt. 18:32–33). These words are from the Gospel, not from my own heart. But if you, having been entreated, forgive the one who asks forgiveness; then you may say that prayer boldly. Even if you are not yet strong enough to love your enemy; you can still say that prayer: “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.”

“Forgive us our debts,” we say, and we will keep saying it: for we speak the truth. Who among those living in this flesh has no debts? Who among people lives in such a way that this prayer is not needed? A person may grow so proud as to think so; but in truth it cannot be so. — It is better for us to imitate the tax collector than to be proud like the Pharisee, who, entering the temple, boasted of his merits while covering over his wounds. But the one who knew better why he had entered the temple was the one who said: “God, be merciful to me a sinner!” (Luke 18:10–14). — Consider, my brothers. The Lord Jesus taught his disciples to pray this way—those great first Apostles of His, our leaders. And if our leaders pray for the forgiveness of their sins, how much more should we do this? — And in the Creed, among other blessings of the economy of salvation, you name also the remission of sins (through holy baptism). The remission of sins is of two kinds: one that is given once, and another that is given each day. The one given once is conferred in holy Baptism, while the daily one is asked for in the Lord’s Prayer, for as long as we live here. This is why we say: “Forgive us our debts.”

God entered into a covenant and agreement with us, sealing it with a firm written bond, when He taught us to say in prayer: “as we also forgive our debtors.” Whoever wants the words “Forgive us our debts” to be effective must ensure that the words “as we also forgive our debtors” are true. But if he either does not say these latter words, or says them falsely, then the former words are also in vain. That is why I urge you constantly: forgive everything you hold in your hearts against anyone; forgive in the place where God sees. It happens that one person forgives with his lips but holds on in his heart: he forgives with his lips for the sake of people, but holds on in his heart, not fearing the eyes of God. Forgive completely. Whatever you have held on to until now, forgive it all now. The sun was never supposed to set on your anger; yet how many times has it set that way? Do not think that anger is nothing. “My eye is troubled,” says the prophet, “from wrath” (Ps. 6:8). But one whose eye is troubled cannot see the sun: nor can one whose eye of the mind is troubled by anger see the spiritual Sun. What is anger? A thirst for revenge. A sinful person thirsts for revenge—while Christ the Lord was not avenged, and the holy martyrs were not avenged! God’s longsuffering still waits, that the enemies of Christ may repent, that the enemies of the martyrs may repent. But who are we, that we should seek revenge? — If God chose to demand it from us, where would we turn? Yet He, wholly innocent, does not seek revenge; while we, guilty in all things and offending God every day, seek it. Therefore, forgive, forgive from the heart. You became angry—do not sin, as the Prophet teaches: “Be angry, and do not sin” (Ps. 4:5). You grow angry as human beings who have been overcome by irritation; but do not sin by keeping that anger within you. If you keep it, it will reach hatred, which is anger grown old. Anger, when it grows old, is called hatred, and is hatred. What was anger when it was fresh becomes hatred when it has aged. Anger is a splinter; hatred is a beam. If we, while condemning someone who is angry, hold hatred in our own hearts, the Lord’s words apply to us: “Why do you look at the splinter in your brother’s eye, while you do not feel the beam in your own eye?” (Matt. 7:3). How did the splinter grow until it became a beam? Because it was not pulled out at once. Having allowed the sun to rise and set so many times in your anger, you made it grow old. By heaping up evil suspicions onto the anger, you watered the splinter, and by watering you nourished it; by nourishing you enlarged it and made it a beam. Fear at least the following verdict: “Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer” (1 John 3:15). Perhaps you drew no sword, dealt no blows, inflicted no wounds on your brother’s body; but as long as there is a thought of hatred in your heart, for that alone you are counted a murderer. That is how guilty you are before God. Your brother is alive; and yet you are still a murderer. You have already killed within yourself the one you have come to hate. Correct yourself, cleanse yourself. If scorpions have gotten into your house, how much effort do you expend to rid your home of them and to live in safety? — As many people as you are angry with, and leave those angers to grow old in your hearts, so many hatreds you carry, and so many scorpions and serpents. Why then do you not strive to cleanse the house of God—your heart—of this? Act then as you say: “as we also forgive our debtors”—so that you may say with confidence: “Forgive us our debts.” We cannot live on earth without debts. But some of them are those great sins that are washed away in baptism, and from which you must always keep apart; while others are the everyday sins without which a person cannot live, and on account of which this daily petition with its attached condition is necessary.

St. Maximus the Confessor. One who lives in God and is nourished by Him as by daily bread is filled with divine longsuffering. …He stands before God as an example of virtue and, if one may say so, calls upon the Inimitable to imitate him, saying: “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors”—he entreats God to be toward him as he himself has been toward his neighbors. For if he desires that God also forgive him in the same way that he himself has forgiven the debts of those who have sinned against him, this means that just as God passionlessly forgives those whom He forgives, so too he forgives those who have sinned, remaining dispassionate toward what befalls him, and therefore does not permit his mind to be marked by memories of former sorrows, showing himself to be a person who does not separate himself from other people and does not divide the one nature of humanity. For when the will is joined in like manner to the logos of nature, reconciliation of God with human nature customarily takes place, since it is impossible for a nature that voluntarily rebels against itself to receive the ineffable condescension of the Divinity in any other way. And certainly the Lord desires our reconciliation with one another not in order to learn from us how to be reconciled with sinners and to consent to making amends for many and terrible offenses, but He desires this in order to cleanse us from the passions and to show that the disposition of the soul is intimately connected to grace. And it is clear that when the will has been joined to the logos of nature, the free will of those who fulfill this will no longer rebel against God.

Blessed Theophylact. Since we sin even after baptism, the Lord commands us to pray that He would forgive us our sins—forgive us just as we forgive others. For if we hold grudges, He does not forgive us. God sets us, in a manner of speaking, as an example for Himself, so that as we act toward others, so He acts toward us.

Simeon of Thessalonica. This is the whole meaning and entire power of the divine Gospel. For in order that our lawless deeds and sins might be forgiven us, God the Word came down to earth and, having taken flesh, shed His blood. For the forgiveness of sins He established the divine sacraments. He Himself did everything for this purpose; and He requires from us only one thing—that we also forgive others. This is why He laid down the law: “Forgive, and you will be forgiven” (Luke 6:37). And to Peter, who asked how many times a day one should forgive a sinning person—whether to forgive up to seven times—He said that one must forgive seventy-seven times, meaning without ceasing. Thus He made the person praying himself the measure of the success of prayer: so that if he has forgiven, he also will be forgiven; if he himself has released, it will be released to him as well, and as he himself has forgiven, so will it be forgiven to him. What is done to a brother reaches back to the One who created us: for in him is the image of God. And among ourselves we are all equal in nature, all equally servants of God. Before Him we all sin greatly, and against one another we sin but little. Yet by releasing this small debt, we receive incomparably more in return, when, by forgiving people, we are granted forgiveness from God.

St. Tikhon of Zadonsk. “And forgive us our debts.” Here debts mean sins—words, deeds, and thoughts contrary to the law of God. That is why St. Luke wrote in his Gospel: “Forgive us our sins” (Luke 11:4). Sins are called debts because, just as in civil life debts obligate a debtor to repay his creditor, and if the debtor does not repay his debts he is imprisoned for them and held until he repays them, so also sins obligate us to satisfy God’s justice (for every sin is against God’s justice), and when we have nothing with which to satisfy it, they lock us in an eternal prison. We cannot pay these debts ourselves, and so we turn to Christ’s merits and God’s mercy, that He would freely release them to us, and we ask Him: “Forgive us our debts.” When we ask: “Forgive us our debts,” this shows that we must pray not only for ourselves but also for one another, and must ask forgiveness of sins for one another. These words—“Forgive us our debts”—clearly show that even the saints themselves sin and must therefore ask for the forgiveness of their sins, as it is written: “For this—that is, for the leaving of sins—every righteous person will pray to You in a time of need” (Ps. 31:6). Since this is the prayer of saints, for whoever truly and from the heart calls God his Father must be a holy child of God and have the Spirit of God dwelling within him, in whom the faithful cry out: “Abba, Father!” (Gal. 4:6). The sins meant here are not those that are done willfully and deliberately, such as: fornication, theft, plunder, malice, cunning, deceit, and the like—from these sins the saints keep away—but the infirmities from which they cannot protect themselves because of their weakness, even though they strive to do so. It is for these sins that the saints pray: “Father, forgive us our debts.”

It is said: “as we also forgive our debtors.” By these words we are taught that we ourselves must also release the sins of our neighbors when we ask and receive the release of sins from God. He forgives us our sins out of mercy—and we must, imitating Him, out of mercy forgive our brothers their sins. When we release the sins of our brothers, God also releases our sins. When we do not release them, God does not release ours either, as Christ says: “If you forgive others their transgressions, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their transgressions, your Father will not forgive your transgressions either” (Matt. 6:14–15).

Any sinner who remains in sin and refuses to forsake it, and who wishes to pray and ask God for the forgiveness of sins, must first forsake those sins himself, and having forsaken them, ask God that by His grace He would forgive them and deliver him from the punishment to which sinners are condemned for their sins. For God does not forgive us our sins when we ourselves do not forsake them. And when sins are not forgiven us, nothing follows but punishment for those sins. This is what happens to a debtor whose creditor does not forgive the debt—he is cast into prison and held there until he has paid what he owes. So too the sinner whose sins are not forgiven will be confined by the judgment of God in an eternal prison, and will pay God’s justice for his sinful debts with torment, yet never fully pay. For having angered and offended the eternal and infinite God, eternal and infinite punishment is justly rendered. God’s justice demands that the unrepentant sinner receive fitting punishment. But for the violation of God’s eternal law and the offense thereby given to God’s infinite majesty, nothing can satisfy except eternal torment and suffering. That sins are forgiven by God to those who repent, cease sinning, grieve over their sins, and ask for pardon—this God does solely from His own mercy and for the sake of Christ’s merits, for whose sake He has promised in His word to grant forgiveness of sins to all who repent and believe in Christ, as this mercy of God is depicted in Psalm 102: “Bless the Lord, O my soul.”

But whoever desires to repent and receive forgiveness of sins through the suffering and death of Christ must without fail forsake his sins. For where there is no forsaking of sins, there is no true repentance. Where there is no true repentance, the merits of Christ find no place. Where the merits of Christ find no place, there is no forgiveness of sins. Where there is no forgiveness of sins, condemnation follows and eternal suffering in hell for those sins. And so the sinner, when his sins are not forgiven—and they will not be forgiven, since he himself has no desire to forsake them—will, like a debtor for his debts, be tormented for all the sins by which he has sinned before God, and since he has no means of redemption, will pay with eternal death. Therefore, whoever desires to repent and be saved must turn away from sins and flee to the mercy of God, confessing himself with humility and contrition as guilty before God, asking for forgiveness for the sake of the shed Blood of Christ, which was shed for every sinner and cleanses every sin. One must, like the prodigal son, leave the foreign lawless country and return to the Father with contrition and self-abasement, casting oneself, as unworthy, before His merciful eyes and confessing: “Father! I have sinned against heaven and before You, and am no longer worthy to be called Your son; receive me as one of Your hired servants” (Luke 15:18–19). Have mercy on me by the grace and love of Your Only-Begotten Son, Who shed His Blood and died for all, and for me, a sinner, as well. For the sake of His innocent suffering and death, forgive me, the guilty one, and pardon my debts. Thus, to the one who has turned back and with humility and contrition confesses his sins and asks for mercy, the Heavenly Father will without doubt forgive all his debts—not for any merits of his own, but by grace alone. For the very Blood of the Son of God, shed for the sinner, cries out that all his debts be forgiven and remembered no more. Such a sinner will experience in himself the mercy of the Heavenly Father, just as the returned prodigal son experienced the mercy of his most compassionate father. The Heavenly Father will see such a sinner coming to Him, and will look upon him with merciful eyes, and will have compassion on him. He will not hear from the Father a rebuke for his willfulness, his going away, and his dissolute life, but will hear only the voice of the most compassionate Father: “Bring the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet; and bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and be merry! For this my son was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found” (Luke 15:22–24). And so—in the words of Christ—“there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:7).

But the sinner who has received such great mercy from God must himself show mercy to his neighbor and forgive him his offenses, lest he experience what was experienced by the debtor in the Gospel who owed his king ten thousand talents, who, having received mercy from his king, refused to show mercy to his fellow servant, and having been released from a great debt solely through his king’s mercy, was unwilling to forgive a small debt to his brother—and therefore fell under the king’s wrath and received his heavy debt back again, together with the rebuke: “You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me; should you not also have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?” And in anger his lord delivered him to the torturers until he should pay all that was owed. “So,” Christ concludes the parable, “My Heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother his sins from your heart” (Matt. 18:32–35).