And Forgive Us Our Trespasses

A trespass seems like such a small thing. It makes me think of a child on the way to school who cuts across a neighbor’s lawn instead of keeping to the sidewalk. Over time, I suppose this could cause a problem if the repetition of little footfalls creates a pathway, trampling an otherwise lush lawn. Or, perhaps it could be more immediately problematic if the child happened to destroy a garden or break a fence. It could be harmless if the owner didn’t care. Or, it could potentially be dangerous if the shortcut involved a risky route through a vacant or dark lot.

Trespassing means being someplace where you are uninvited. Businesses sometimes post No Trespassing signs intended to keep people, presumably noncustomers, from loitering or to discourage folks with nefarious intent from hanging around after hours.

Yet, although the word trespass may bring encroachments onto privately held property to mind, sometimes the infringements involve other types of infractions. When I trespass, it simply means I have ventured into a place or situation where I am not welcome. For example, if I try to give advice where it is not wanted. Or help to someone who wants to act on their own. I remember when my daughter was learning to tie her shoes. Sometimes in my impatience, I would reach to do the laces for her. She’d stamp her foot and declare, “I do it!” reminding me that I was trespassing on her emerging autonomy.

To me, these types of minor lapses never seemed sufficiently egregious to warrant their own line in a prayer as important as the one Jesus taught his disciples. But, in fairness to tradition and translators, at an earlier stage of the English language, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, a trespass was associated with failing to perform a duty, creating an offense, or violating the law in a variety of ways. One citation from 1330 mentions that someone was hanged for a trespass, so it must have involved some serious wrongdoing. Yet even then, a trespass was not a felony.

I presume that others have also felt this way about using the word trespass as an English equivalent for the Greek (ὀφειλήματα; the transliteration is opheilēmata. Source: BibleHub.com). Some versions of the Lord’s prayer use other words. One commonly employed is debt. Forgive us our debts.

A debt can be anything owed (honor, esteem, reverence, respect). In the biblical context, perhaps it means to forgive us our obligations or forgive us regarding our guilt. But in today’s world debt usually refers to money. When I hear the line recited as, Forgive us our debts, it makes me think that people want God to pay off their credit cards, student loans, and mortgages.

Although these debts can mount up to great sums and seem more significant than a minor trespass, the request from this perspective feels contrary to good stewardship and responsibility. I can’t help wondering if it is proper to ask God to forgive financial obligations that I may owe to another person or business rather than accepting accountability for them myself.

But perhaps Jesus did have money in mind as a metaphor. In Matthew 18:23–35, he tells a story that goes something like this: A servant owed his master a ton of money, ten thousand talents. Footnotes in various Bible translations estimate that the total represents the equivalent of 15 to 20 years of wages, so this may be a way of saying that the debt was more money than the servant would likely earn during his remaining lifetime. The master planned to sell the man and his family to raise funds to settle the debt. The man begged for mercy and received it. His master cancelled the debt. Later, the man encountered a peer who owed him a hundred denarii (about a hundred days’ worth of wages; for someone working six days a week, about four months). Despite having receiving great mercy from the master, he offered none to his fellow servant and had the man put into prison. When the master found out about it, the first debtor was put into prison until such a time as he could pay off the original debt, presumably forever.

The debt in this parable clearly refers to money. It is specifically identified in terms of monetary units appropriate to the age. Yet, I think Jesus had other types of debt in mind. The story is told in response to a question from Peter, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him?” (Matthew 18:21).

This linkage between debt and sin is reflected in another translation of the prayer: Forgive us our sins.

Sin is one of those religious words that serves as a label for something we don’t exactly understand. Some suggest that sins are offenses against God’s law, yet New Testament teachings seem to proclaim that people are no longer under the law. Other people identify sin as actions or thoughts that are morally unacceptable within a society’s culture. Sometimes sins are deliberate, but sometimes sin happens and the perpetrator is unaware of any wrongdoing. Guilt, fault, and culpability, may not be linked to intention. Is a mistake a sin or an accident? And, there are some who say that sin is a state of being for all humans. Is Jesus asking his followers to request forgiveness for being human?

When it comes to thinking about sin, some perspectives suggest that it occurs in differing degrees of magnitude. There are mortal sins, and there are venial sins which don’t seem quite as bad. There are categories that list four kinds of sins, seven sins, and twelve sins. And there is the one unforgivable sin.

But which sins are my sins? My life is not characterized by murder and mayhem. Yet I have committed spiritual infractions. I have been selfish, displayed bad attitudes, and neglected to do good things. I am not alone. Paul in his letter to the Romans suggests I have a lot of company: “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).

Forgiveness is certainly something I need, whether I call the infraction a trespass, a debt, or a sin.

Maybe trespass is the right word. Even though I often think of it as a small thing, a trespass can be large. When I think of trespasses, I ask forgiveness for the ways, big and small, I have encroached where I didn’t belong. Have I tried to press my will upon someone else, manipulate a response, rained on someone else’s parade? Trespasses.

But debt is an appropriate word, too, especially for those things I owe to God, like love, obedience, and service. It is also fitting for instances when I have taken up something for which God alone is responsible, like vengeance.

Sin is a suitable word, too, even if the daily offenses to which I tend to succumb manage to avoid the headlines that get more press. For example, I am prone to anxiety despite the biblical admonitions against worrying (a few examples: Matthew 6:25–34, Luke 12:22, John 14:1, and Philippians 4:6). I battle with pride even though humility is appropriate (Romans 12:3, Philippians 2:3, James 4:6, and Proverbs 11:2 among many others). And finding the ability to trust God is something that often eludes me even though I know many verses that tell me I must do this (such as Psalms 9:10, 13:5, 37:5 and many more, along with Proverbs 3:5 and Isaiah 26:3).

Forgive us our trespasses; forgive us our debts; forgive us our sins; forgive us for all manner of transgressions.