27 Sermon Illustrations on Forgiveness of Sins

"But your iniquities have separated between you and your God" (Isaiah 59:2). The Bible says that sin separates; it comes between man and God. Sin is like a giant canyon, with man on one side and God on the other. A canyon can never be removed; it will always be there. And it is useless to try to fill up a canyon. But when a bridge is put across a canyon, a man can cross it as if no canyon ever existed there. Forgiveness of our sin is like a bridge. A bridge allows us to have eternal life, even though there is sin which otherwise would separate us from God. Sin is also like a cut or break in an electric wire. There must be a perfect connection from the source to the light bulb before there can be any light in the bulb. Sin separates our connection with God. Forgiveness is like a splice in a wire. It does not take a brand new wire to complete the circuit, but there must be a wire in which every single break has been repaired. Sin separates man and God. There is only one way to get back to God; through Jesus Christ!

“When they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both.” Luke 7:42

Years ago, Nicholas the First, Czar of Russia, was occasionally in the habit of throwing aside the garb of royalty, attiring himself in the uniform of a lower officer, and going about to find out how things were going with his soldiers. On one occasion he had a favorite, a young man, the son of an intimate friend of his, to whom he had given a position in a border fortress in charge of the money used for paying off the soldiers. This young man fell into bad habits; he took to gambling, and by and by, led on and on by the will-o’-the-wisp that lures the gambler to his doom, had gambled away all his own wealth and then had taken from the government funds entrusted to him. He had taken just a few rubles at a time and had no idea of the amount abstracted. He received notice that on the following day, an official was coming from the court to examine the records and to count the money he had on hand. He felt he never could face the exposure of that day and so the night before, closed his door and sat there with his books before him. He opened the safe, took out the pitifully small amount of money, counted it carefully, jotted down the amount on a sheet of paper, made note of the various peculation that he had abstracted, and when he had added it, he sat looking at it, and finally wrote under the figures, “A great debt; who can pay?”

He knew it was impossible for him ever to settle; looking at the small amount of money, he thought, “What a failure I have been!” He made up his mind that he would not live to face the disgrace of the morrow; he would blow his brains out as the clock struck twelve that night and leave all the papers so that the agent would understand all that had happened. As he sat there reflecting upon the way he had thrown away his opportunity, suddenly he felt himself overpowered with drowsiness and in spite of the horror of his situation, went off to sleep.

It so happened that night, the Czar Nicholas, attired as a lower officer of the guard, entered the gate of that fortress, by giving the proper password, and moved down through the halls. Every light should have been out according to regulations but as he came down the main hall, he saw the light shining under a door. He went up to the door and listened but there was not a sound. He tried the knob, the door opened; he looked inside and saw the sleeping officer and then the money and the open safe, the papers, the books, and he wondered what it meant. He tiptoed in and stood behind the man, and looking over his shoulder, read the paper before him. The whole thing became clear in a moment. The young man had been stealing systematically for months.

The Czar’s first thought was to put his hand on his shoulder and tell him that he was under arrest. The next moment his heart went out to him in compassion; he remembered his boyhood; he remembered the father; how broken hearted he would be if the son should be arrested! Then he happened to see that pitiful question, “A great debt; who can pay?” Moved by generous impulse, he reached over, picked up the pen that had fallen from the hand of the sleeping man, wrote just one word under that line, tiptoed out, and closed the door.

For an hour or so the man slept, then, wakened suddenly, he saw it was long past midnight. He sprang to his feet and picked up his revolver, put it to his forehead, and was just about to pull the trigger when his eye caught sight of that one word on the sheet of paper which he knew was not there when he went to sleep. It was the name, “Nicholas.” Dropping his gun, he said, “Can it be?” He went to one of his files and got hold of some documents that had the genuine signature of the Czar and compared them with the one word written under the line, “A great debt; who can pay?” It was the real signature of the Czar and he said, “The Czar has been here tonight, he knows all my guilt and yet he has undertaken to pay my debt, I need not die.” And so instead of taking his life, he rested upon the word of the Czar as indicated by that name written upon the paper, and he was not surprised when, early the next morning, a messenger came from the royal palace bringing a sack of gold which he counted and found to be exactly the amount of the missing money. He placed it in the safe and when the inspector came and went over the books, everything was found to be all right. Nicholas had paid in full.

It is only a human illustration but it pictures what the Lord Jesus Christ has done.

“Jesus paid all my debt

Oh, wondrous love;

Widest extreme He met,

Oh, wondrous love.

Justice is satisfied,

God now is glorified,

Heaven’s gate thrown open wide,

Oh, wondrous love.”

One word spoke peace to that man’s heart, “Nicholas.” One word has spoken peace to my heart, the name, “Jesus.” For through Him and His work upon the cross, satisfaction has been made for all my sins. And for you, there is the same salvation, the same absolution, the same pardon, the same forgiveness, for God “hath made Him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

As a seal leaves a mark of itself in the wax, whereby it is known; so it is with every one who has a readiness to forgive others: for by it the Christian may know that God hath sealed the forgiveness of his sins upon his heart. Cawdray.

"What can Jesus Christ do for you now?" said an inhuman slave-master, when in the act of applying the lacerating whip to an already half-murdered slave. "Him teach me to forgive you, massa," was his reply. Phillips.

The Rev. Peter Jones, a converted Indian chief from America, when in this country—after describing his pierced and wounded condition under conviction for sin, as a stricken deer who left the herd to die—said of the sensations of new life experienced by him on the day of his salvation, "On that day, the world seemed all fresh and new to me. It seemed like a new creation. I looked around; and the trees and the fields were so green, the lake was so blue, the sunshine so bright, the sky was so glad! Oh! that was a handsome day on which God, for Christ's sake, forgave my sins!"

— Dr. Jobson

Generous and magnanimous minds are readiest to forgive; and it is a weakness and impotency of mind to be unable to forgive. Lord Bacon.

I ask not a legal pardon, but a father's pardon. — Evans. — It would tire the hands of an angel to write down all the pardons God bestows upon true, penitent believers. — Bates. — Christ comes with a blessing in each hand, — forgiveness in one, and holiness in the other; and never gives either to any who will not take both. — Adam.

One day when Luther was crying out, almost in despair, "Oh, my sins, my sins!" an old monk entered his cell. He told Luther that he had found great comfort in repeating the article, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." These words filled his mind with consolation and joy.

A felon was executed in Scotland, who, during his imprisonment, experienced pardoning mercy. At his execution, he cried out, under a sense of pardon, "Oh! he is a great forgiver, he is a great forgiver!"

A French girl of fourteen once appeared before Napoleon, and, casting herself at his feet, cried, "Pardon, sire! pardon for my father!"—"And who is your father?" asked Napoleon; "and who are you?"—"My name is Lajolia," she said; and with flowing tears added, "but, sire, my father is doomed to die."—"Ah! young lady," replied Napoleon, "I can do nothing for you. It is the second time your father has been found guilty of treason against the state."—"Alas!" exclaimed the poor girl, "I know it, sire; but I do not ask for justice: I implore pardon. I beseech you, forgive, oh, forgive, my father!" After a momentary struggle of feeling, Napoleon gently took the hand of the young maiden, and said, "Well, my child, for your sake, I will pardon your father. That is enough. Now leave me."

The Rev. J. Wesley, in the course of his voyage to America, hearing an unusual noise in the cabin of General Oglethorpe, the governor of Georgia, with whom he sailed, stepped in to inquire the cause of it. The general addressed him, "Mr. W. you must excuse me, I have met with a provocation too great for man to bear. You know the only wine I drink is Cyprus wine; I therefore provided myself with several dozens of it, and this villain Grimaldi," (his foreign servant, who was present, and almost dead with fear,) "has drank up the whole of it; but I will be revenged on him. I have ordered him to be tied hand and foot, and be carried to the man-of-war which sails with us. The rascal should have taken care how he used me so, for I never forgive." "Then I hope, sir," said Mr. W. looking calmly at him, "you never sin." The general was quite confounded at the reproof; and putting his hand into his pocket, took out a bunch of keys, which he threw at Grimaldi: "There, villain," said he, "take my keys, and behave better for the future."

A person who had done Sir Matthew Hale a great injury, came afterwards to him for his advice in the settlement of his estate. Sir Matthew gave his advice very frankly to him, but would accept of no fee for it. When he was asked how he could use a man so kindly who had wronged him so much, his answer was, he thanked God, he had learned to forgive injuries. 176. 177

FORTUNE-TELLING.

A worthy old colored woman in the city of New-York, was one day walking along the street, on some errand to a neighboring store, with her tobacco pipe in her mouth, quietly smoking. A jovial sailor, rendered a little mischievous by liquor, came sawing down the street, and, when opposite our good Phillis, saucily crowded her aside, and with a pass of his hand knocked her pipe out of her mouth. He then halted to hear her fret at his trick, and enjoy a laugh at her expense. But what was his astonishment, when she meekly picked up the pieces of her broken pipe, without the least resentment in her manner, and giving him a dignified look of mingled sorrow, kindness and pity, said, "God forgive you, my son, as I do." It touched a tender cord in the heart of the rude tar. He felt ashamed, condemned and repentant. The tear started in his eye; he must make reparation. He heartily confessde his error, and thrusting both hands into his two full pockets of "change," forced the contents upon her, exclaiming, "God bless you, kind mother, I'll never do so again."

# FORTUNE-TELLING.

Mr. Edmund Colony relates, in his life, that some persons of the name of Mart, in whose family he resided for some time, had a son who discovered the most wicked and impious disposition. When confined in prison, he wrote letters professing penitence; but, as soon as he had an opportunity, he returned to his former sins.

This young man had been the darling of both his father and mother; and the latter had set her affections upon him to so great a degree, that when she saw him a monster of wickedness, she became deranged, and attempted to destroy herself, which she at length effected. So far from being suitably impressed with this awful event, her son now proceeded to greater lengths in wickedness. At length he professed to be sorry for his depraved course, and applied to the Rev. Samuel Pomfret to intercede for him with his father. He was made ready for sea, but unhappily became connected with a gang of villains, and, on the very night before he was to set sail, he robbed Mr. Pomfret, was pursued, tried, and condemned to die.

On the Sabbath preceding the Wednesday on which he was condemned to die, his father entreated Dr. Calamy to accompany him that evening to his cell in Newgate, to converse with his unhappy son, and to give his opinion as to the propriety of seeking to obtain his pardon. The doctor went, and found him in a very awful state of mind, resenting different things which he conceived his father had done wrong, and saying that he might obtain a pardon for him if he would but part with some of his money. In vain did the doctor expostulate with him on the improper feelings he manifested, and entreat him to humble himself before God on account of his sins, as the only way of engaging his friends to obtain for him a reprieve. His reply was, "Sir, I scorn any thing of that nature; and would rather die with my company." The doctor reasoned with him on the existence of a hereafter, charged him with the death of his mother, taxed him with the murder of some persons abroad, whose blood he had actually shed, and showed him the heavy punishment he must endure in an eternal world unless he turned to God, repented of his sins, and prayed for pardon through the atonement of the Lord Jesus. He admitted the truth of all these things, but was filled with trifling unconcern. He frankly said that he had no hope of being better in his character, and that, on the contrary, he was satisfied she should grow worse. The next morning he was visited by Dr. Jekyll, who asked him whether, during the whole time he had been confined in Newgate, he had once bowed his knees to the great God, making it his earnest request to him to give him a sense of his sins, and to create in him a tender heart: he admitted that he had not, nor did he think it of any use. He was promised that if he would engage to pray morning and evening for the grace of God, an effort should be made, with every probability of success, for a reprieve, and subsequently a pardon. But he would make no engagement, and was hung on the day appointed.

On the day of his execution, the father of this unhappy young man told Dr. Calamy, that when the culprit was a very young child, and their only child, he was exceedingly ill with a fever, and that both his wife and himself, thinking their lives were bound up in the life of the child, were exceedingly importunate with God in prayer that his life might be spared. A pious mother expostulated with him on the vehemence he manifested, and said she dreaded the consequence of his praying in such a way, and that it became him to leave the matter to an infinitely wise God. At length the father said, "Let him prove what he will, so he is but spared, I shall be satisfied." The old man added, "This I now see to have been my folly. For, through the just hand of God, I have lived to see this wretched son of mine a heart-breaking cross to them that loved him with the greatest tenderness, a disgrace to my whole family, and likely to bring my gray hairs with sorrow to my grave. I read my sin very distinctly in my punishment; but must own that God is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his works."