When Forgivess Seems Impossible
Increase Our Faith!
Moments before Christ turned to directly instruct His disciples, the Pharisees were scoffing at Him (Luke 16:14), their mockery underscoring the deepening opposition that surrounded His ministry. In that climate of ridicule and rising tension, He delivers a sobering lesson in Luke 17:1–4 about offense, accountability, and forgiveness. As the cross draws nearer, His teaching becomes more personal and deliberate. He prepares His followers for the reality that stumbling blocks will come, that responsibility must be taken seriously, and that forgiveness will require more than human strength. At the opening of chapter 17, Jesus speaks to His disciples, likely the Twelve, along with other committed followers traveling with Him, preparing them for what was to come. Before the cross, before the betrayal, before the suffering — He addressed how His followers would live with one another.
Stumbling Blocks Will Come
Jesus begins with a somber truth:
“It is inevitable that stumbling blocks come…”
— Luke 17:1
The term ‘stumbling blocks’ refers to offences or hindrances — something that causes a person to fall spiritually. Also, it carries the idea of a trap or snare placed in one’s path, and Jesus says they are unavoidable and unpreventable.
In a fallen world, offense will occur because sin exists, which causes harm to others since hearts are imperfect, wounds happen. Even among Christ Believers, misunderstandings, immaturity, and failure can create real spiritual stumbling blocks.
Jesus does not promise a life free of offense; instead, He prepares His disciples for the certainty that stumbling blocks will come. However, causing them carries serious consequences — and that is where He turns next.
Jesus does not stop at acknowledging that stumbling blocks will come. He adds a warning:
“Woe to him through whom they come!”
— Luke 17:1
This is not casual language because Woe signals grief, judgment, and divine displeasure. While stumbling blocks are inevitable in a fallen world, deliberately becoming the cause of another’s spiritual fall is a serious matter before God.
For this cause, Jesus intensifies the warning:
“It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea…”
— Luke 17:2
The image is severe — a massive stone, heavy and inescapable, dragging a person into the depths. There would be no swimming to safety, no breaking free, and the descent would be swift and certain.
To feel the weight of His words, we must picture the millstone in the ancient world. It was a large, round stone used daily to grind grain into flour. The lower bedstone remained fixed, while the upper runner stone rotated above it. Grain poured through a center opening was crushed between the two surfaces until it became meal.
Smaller stones were turned by hand, but the stone Jesus likely referenced was the larger, animal-driven millstone — so heavy it required a donkey to move it and weighing hundreds of pounds.
This was not an abstract symbol as it was part of daily survival. From the wealthy household to the poorest home, grain had to be ground to make bread. The millstone represented steady labor, provision, and life itself.
It was so essential that God protected it under the Law, as in Deuteronomy 24:6, the Lord commanded that a millstone could not be taken as collateral for debt, “for that would be taking a life in pledge.” To remove it was to remove a man’s ability to eat.
That makes Christ’s warning even more striking.
The very object associated with nourishment and survival becomes, in His teaching, a symbol of devastating judgment. What once represented provision now represents crushing weight and irreversible consequence.
The message is unmistakable: causing another to stumble is no small matter in the eyes of God.
After the severe warning about the millstone, Jesus turns inward:
“Take heed to yourselves…”
— Luke 17:3
This is an exhortation to be on guard.
Christ shifts the focus from the danger of others to personal responsibility. His disciples are to watch themselves — their words, their influence, and their conduct. They are to guard their own hearts from becoming a stumbling block. At the same time, they are to be attentive to the spiritual well-being of their fellow disciples.
The community of faith is not passive. It is protective.
Jesus continues:
“If your brother sins, rebuke him…”
This raises an important question: What does it mean to rebuke?
Biblical rebuke is not harsh criticism; it is not public humiliation or a venting of frustration. The word carries the idea of correcting, warning, or confronting with the intent to restore. It reflects the kind of loving discipline Scripture describes in Hebrews 12:4–6, where believers are reminded that the Lord disciplines those He loves. Divine correction is not cruelty — it is care. Rebuke is an act of responsibility.
It means addressing sin directly rather than ignoring, meaning loving someone enough to speak truth when silence would allow harm to grow. In this context, rebuke is not about winning an argument — it is about preventing further spiritual damage.
Rebuke, in the hands of Christ, is not revenge. Instead, it is restoration.
Now the stage is set for what follows —
“and if he repents, forgive him.”
Jesus continues:
“If he repents, forgive him. And if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times in a day returns to you saying, ‘I repent,’ you shall forgive him.”
— Luke 17:3–4
The command is direct; considering if there is repentance, there must be forgiveness.
Notice the order:
Rebuke.
Repentance.
Forgiveness.
This is not permissiveness; it is restoration, since sin is not ignored; it is addressed. Moreover, when genuine repentance is expressed, the disciple of Christ is commanded to release the offense.
Then Jesus stretches the command beyond comfort, “If he sins against you seven times in a day…”
Not seven times in a lifetime.
Not seven times over the years.
Seven times in one day.
Thus, each time he returns and says, “I repent,” you must forgive.
The number seven in Scripture often symbolizes completeness. Jesus is not encouraging arithmetic bookkeeping; He is pressing the heart. Even if the offense feels repeated, exhausting, and unreasonable, forgiveness must remain open where repentance is present.
This is where forgiveness begins to feel impossible.
Our instinct is to limit grace.
To measure sincerity.
To protect ourselves.
Yet, Jesus places the responsibility on the disciple: if repentance is expressed, forgiveness is required.
Not because it is easy.
Not because it feels safe.
Because this is how the kingdom community survives.
Repeated repentance requires repeated mercy.
It is precisely at this point that the disciples respond, “Increase our faith!”
The weight of this command would have settled heavily on the disciples.
Repeated rebuke.
Repeated repentance.
Repeated forgiveness — all within the same day.
This was not theoretical teaching; it was a relational reality. They understood what Jesus was requiring. To forgive once may feel noble. To forgive repeatedly, especially when the wound is fresh, feels unnatural.
So they respond:
“Increase our faith!”
— Luke 17:5
They do not argue.
They do not object.
They do not ask for clarification.
They ask for faith.
They recognize immediately that this level of forgiveness cannot be sustained by personality, discipline, or emotional strength. It requires something deeper. Something divine.
The command exposed their insufficiency.
And that is precisely where faith begins.
Thursday Live Chat: Increase Our Faith
7:00 pm
Jesus said forgive — again and again.
The disciples said, “Increase our faith.”
This week we’re discussing Luke 17:1–5 and the tension between offense, rebuke, repentance, and radical forgiveness.
Why did they ask for faith?
What kind of faith did they need?
And what kind do we need today?
Let’s talk about it.