13 September 2026 “Secret Sunshine and the Grace of Forgiveness” | Matthew 18:25–36

Today, I would like to introduce a movie to you. The title is Secret Sunshine. Has anyone here heard of it? I am sure that no one here has actually seen it. You might be wondering why I am so sure. It’s simple: it is a Korean film.

These days, some Korean movies make it into Australian cinemas from time to time, so you might catch one. But this one was released in 2007, so you never really had the chance.

Actually, this movie is more famous than you might think. It was officially invited to the Sydney Film Festival and the Melbourne International Film Festival, where it drew massive interest and completely sold out. More importantly, it made international headlines when the lead actress won Best Actress at the 60th Cannes Film Festival that year.

But what stands out in my memory isn't just the international success. It was the reaction from churches and Christians. They were split right down the middle. One side began boycotting the film, declaring, “This is an anti-Christian movie.” On the other hand, others responded with deep reflection, arguing, “This is the real test of faith that the church needs to face today.” It became a talking point precisely because the reactions were so opposite.

So let me give you a quick summary of the story, and you can be the judge.

The movie begins like this. The main character's husband dies in a tragic car accident. Desperate to overcome her grief, Shin-ae moves with her young son to her late husband's hometown, a quiet little town. She just wants to start a new life. A former piano teacher, she opens a piano academy and finally seems to be getting her life back on track.

But right at that moment, an even greater tragedy strikes. Her precious son is kidnapped. In the end, all she finds is his body. The kidnapper is caught and sent to prison. Strangely, the film shows her unable to grieve. Think about it. She has just lost her husband. Now she loses her son too. She has lost everything. Tragically, the film shows that her grief is so enormous that the tears simply won't come. She just loses her grip on reality, staring blankly into space.

Feeling immense pity for her, her neighbours actively reach out. They tell her, “Try believing in God.” “Come to church just once.” “Leave it all in God's hands.” At first, she resists. She fires back, “If God is so full of love, why did He let my son die?”

But, desperate for any kind of answer, she finally goes to church. And that day, all the tears she had been holding back come pouring out. After that, she starts attending church regularly. She sings hymns, finds peace in her heart, and a smile begins to return to her face. Seeing her open her heart, the people around her celebrate, telling her that she has received grace and that a true miracle has happened.

Then, one day, she shares this during her home group: “I have decided to forgive the man who killed my son.” Deeply moved, everyone gathers to pray for her. And so, she makes her way to the prison to meet the killer. With tension in the air, carrying the heavy weight of forgiveness in her heart, she sits down with a cold glass partition between them.

Shin-ae: “You look well. Better than I expected.”

Man: “I'm sorry.”

Shin-ae: “No, you need to stay healthy. Even someone who has committed a terrible crime, God still gives them life and health.”

Shin-ae: “I picked these flowers on the way here. They were growing by the roadside. You don't see many flowers in here, do you? Beautiful, aren't they? Even these beautiful flowers are a gift from God.”

Shin-ae: “The reason I came here today is to bring you God's grace and love. I didn't always believe. I didn't even believe that God existed. I couldn't see Him, so I didn't believe. I can't tell you how grateful and happy I am to feel His love and grace. I came to share that love with you.”

Man: “Thank you. Truly. I'm so grateful to hear about our Heavenly Father from Jun's mother. I came to believe too. Since coming to prison, I have found faith in God.”

Man: “God came to me, even though I am such a sinful man.”

Shin-ae: “Really? I'm glad you came to know God.”

Man: “How grateful I am. God reached out His hand even to a wretched sinner like me. I fell on my face, repented of my sin, and God forgave me.”

Shin-ae, her voice shaking: “God... forgave your sin?”

Man: “Yes. I wept, I repented, and I was forgiven. So now I'm at peace. Being forgiven feels this good. God answered my prayer.”

She walks out of the prison, stunned and barely able to walk. She stumbles, and with a cry of despair, she asks:

“I haven't even forgiven him yet, so why?”

“Why would you forgive him first?”

“Why did you take away my chance to forgive him?”

“Who do you think you are... who the hell are you to just forgive him?”

“What am I supposed to do now?!”

The process of forgiveness, as we understand it, usually goes like this: We get hurt, we forgive, we find peace, and we heal. But this film tells the exact opposite story. That's why it shook so many Christians. And Shin-ae's final cry ultimately becomes a question for all of us: “What exactly is the true forgiveness we believe in?”

Two thousand years ago, Peter asked Jesus a question along these very lines: “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?”

If we look closely at this question, we can sense a hint of confidence. In the rabbinic tradition of the time, forgiving the same offence three times was considered merciful enough. So Peter's suggestion of “seven times” was more than double that standard, a remarkably generous proposal. “I’m ready to forgive him up to seven times, not just three like everyone else. Surely, that makes me a pretty good disciple.” This was probably what Peter was thinking. But Jesus gave an unexpected answer: “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” Jesus wasn't giving Peter a new limit. He wasn't telling him to count up to seventy-seven. Rather, His message was this: “Stop counting. Stop keeping a tally of your forgiveness.”

Jesus refuses to reduce forgiveness to this kind of calculation. If so, is His message simply a command to “forgive unconditionally”? But I don't want to read today's passage that way.

Jesus wasn't just giving Peter a bigger number. He was changing the way Peter looked at forgiveness. “Don't think about how many times you can forgive.” “Don't focus on how forgiving of a person you are.” Instead: “Look first at how much you have already been forgiven.” It was an invitation to grace. And then He tells a story.

A king orders a servant who owes him ten thousand talents to pay back his debt. The servant falls to his knees and begs, “Please, just give me a little more time. I will pay it all back.” But in reality, this was a debt he could never repay. Then something amazing happens. The king takes pity on him. And he completely wipes away his debt. Overjoyed, the servant heads home, dancing and singing, ready to share the good news.

But on his way home, he runs into a fellow servant who owes him a very small amount of money. He grabs him by the collar and shakes him. “Pay me what you owe!” His fellow servant falls to his knees and begs, “Please, be patient with me, and I will pay you back.”

But the servant shows not a single ounce of mercy. Instead, he throws his fellow servant into prison. But the story doesn't end there. The king hears what has happened and calls the servant back. And he says , “You wicked servant! I forgave all that debt of yours because you begged me. Have mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you.” And the king hands him over to the jailers.

Jesus finishes this story with a very heavy warning: “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart.” When you first hear this, it sounds like a very simple conclusion: “We received great forgiveness from God, so we must forgive others.”

But I don't want to sum it up that simply. Because the moment we do that, forgiveness becomes just another transaction, a condition, an obligation. What Jesus really wants to show us is not a rule that says, “You must forgive.” Instead, Jesus invites Peter to a place of realisation: “Look at how much grace you have already received.” Jesus wasn't giving Peter a number. He wasn't forcing him to forgive unconditionally. He was showing Peter how much grace he had already received. And I think this is what Jesus was really saying in answer to Peter's question.

My brothers and sisters, my prayer is this. I pray that we never have to forgive anyone. And I wish we never needed to be forgiven by anyone. How beautiful would that life be? How peaceful would the world be? But that is not our reality. We are broken, we get hurt, we feel wronged, and sometimes, we even dream of revenge. Sometimes, we do manage to forgive. Other times, like Peter, we ask, “Jesus, how many times do I have to forgive?” And sometimes, we might cry out, “God, why do I have to forgive? I haven't forgiven them yet, so why did You forgive them first?!”

Think back to Shin-ae from the movie Secret Sunshine. If someone told a mother who had just lost her child, “Believe in Jesus, embrace your enemy, and forgive them seventy-seven times,” would that really sound like “Good News” to her? The kidnapper in that prison, the man who completely broke her apart, was much like the servant in the parable who had his massive debt forgiven. He claimed that God had forgiven his sins, but he completely closed his eyes to the pain of the victim. He turned God's forgiveness into a cheap pass, just to make himself feel comfortable. “Is this what a forgiven person looks like?”

Let me be honest with you. If something like what happened to Shin-ae ever happened to me, I don't know if I could forgive. And I think that is important to say. Because when someone is carrying a wound that deep, to simply say, “But you're a Christian. You have to forgive,” may itself become another form of violence.

Jesus never tells a victim like Shin-ae, “Even when you have been deeply wronged, just put up with it and forgive.” Jesus never asks us to forgive someone completely by our own strength. So this parable is not a terrifying moral command saying, “Just make yourself forgive 490 times.” That is not His point. His point is this: Look first at the grace you have received. And perhaps this is where forgiveness begins. Not by forcing ourselves to forgive, but by remembering where we are standing.

We are not standing as people who have everything together. We are standing as people who have been forgiven. And sometimes, that is all we can do. We may not be ready to forgive today. We may not even know how to begin. But we can bring our wounded hearts before God and simply say: “God, I cannot do this. There is no forgiveness in me for this.”

And perhaps that is where grace begins to do what we cannot do for ourselves.

And if there is one message I desperately want to leave you with today, it is this: you do not have to force yourself to forgive today. You do not have to pretend that the wound does not hurt. Simply bring your wounded heart before God. Look again at the grace you have received.

And perhaps, for today, this is enough to say:  “Lord, I cannot forgive yet. But help me to see Your grace. Help me to receive Your love. And when the time comes, let Your grace show me what the next step might be.” That is where forgiveness begins. Not with a command. Not with a number. But with grace. Perhaps that is the secret sunshine, the grace of God already shining on us.

Amen.