
Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Matthew 18:21–35
I’ve been staring at this page for hours, trying to come up with the perfect hook—something clever enough to make you want to keep reading. I’ve got nothing. Maybe that’s fitting, because this week’s gospel asks us to do something Jesus makes very clear, but most of us find incredibly difficult: forgive. I know I do. And the fact that I’m struggling to find the words to write about forgiveness reminds me that I’m still learning to live it, too.
Forgiveness is a gift the Father freely gives us—a gift that cost Him His only Son and gives us life, eternal life. So if you’re still here, let’s talk about it: the forgiveness we’re called to give and the forgiveness we so desperately need to receive.
In Matthew's gospel, Peter approaches Jesus and asks: “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? As many as seven times?” (Matthew 18:21). Forgiving someone seven times, especially if it’s for the same offense, seems like a lot. In Peter’s time, it was even more than the Jewish tradition taught, which instructed that an offense should be forgiven three times.
I can understand Peter's reasoning here. Following Christ demands that we extend more grace, but surely there must be a limit to it! However, Jesus clearly shows there is no limit when He responds, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:22).
That is an abundance of forgiveness. Can you imagine all the effort it would take to keep track of it, as if we literally kept a scorecard marking the offense and tallying the forgiveness offered. I can certainly picture someone creating a Forgiveness App where we constantly check to see if we are meeting our forgiveness goals, but not offering more than prescribed.
Yet Jesus calls us to go beyond this and not to count the cost. The forgiveness we offer is to be unlimited—no limits, no keeping score, no calculating whether the hurt is worth forgiving. And this is where it gets real: sometimes the wounds are small, and forgiveness comes easily. But other times, the pain is deep and lasting, and forgiving another feels impossible. For some of us, the cost isn't just a theory; it’s real and distressing, making us feel like we are letting go of justice and leaving ourselves vulnerable.
Let me share a personal story about a time when my husband’s business partners treated him unjustly, making his work very difficult. Most nights, he came home anxious and stressed, trying to figure out how to navigate that environment. Seeing what this was doing to him made me feel intense anger toward the people involved. For years, he tried to resolve the situation peacefully but couldn't, and a professional split ensued. It was painful, and his career and our family suffered from the fallout. Even though leaving this situation was the right thing to do, I couldn’t think about them without extreme bitterness in my heart.
And then I read this Scripture, and I am reminded that the Lord always gives us the prescription for what ails us.
I have spent the past two years asking God to help me forgive and remove this grievance from my heart. So as I was praying about this passage the other day, they came to mind, and the resentment resurfaced with all the memories. It’s almost as if the Lord was asking me to forgive more, to forgive deeper, as He saw what was still lingering in my heart.
Maybe that is what Jesus means when He says “seventy-seven times,” because healing any painful wound takes time: we need to clean the wound, rinse it repeatedly, and keep applying the healing ointment—in this case, the ointment of God’s grace. And in His goodness, He gives us the prescription to follow in a well-known prayer:
Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
It can be easy to gloss over this part of the Our Father; we pray it so often, the words can lose their meaning. We are asking God to forgive us as we forgive others. How can we so easily accept the mercy of the Father without being willing to offer it to our brothers and sisters? This is what we continue to read in Sunday’s gospel: the master forgives his servant's huge debt, but the servant turns around and refuses to forgive someone who owed him a much smaller amount. How can we expect forgiveness for our debts toward God and still find reasons to not forgive those who have hurt us?
Peter Kreeft, in his book, Food for the Soul, points out clearly what is happening: “If the hands of our soul are closed into fists, they are closed not only to giving forgiveness—they are also closed to accepting forgiveness.” We cannot receive what we are unwilling to give; our soul must be open to receiving God’s mercy before we can extend it to another.
I don’t know your story or what wounds you carry, and I don’t want to diminish the fact that some of us have been deeply hurt by others. In some situations, forgiveness can feel impossible. I don’t think Jesus is pretending this is easy. If it were, it might minimize the sacrifice of giving His life for us on the cross. Forgiveness is hard and holy work. It’s a battle, but one we don’t fight alone. Christ walks with us and sees every wound and scar we carry. But He loves us too much to let us stay bound by them.
He asks us to open our hands and hearts and choose to forgive—whether the person deserves it or not, as many times as it takes, and as long as it takes. Forgiveness does not excuse the harm or erase the pain, but it does set us free from being held captive by resentment.
Jesus knows the cost, and He promises to walk with us every step of the way. If your heart is struggling to let go, you are not alone. Bring your wounds honestly before God. Ask Him for the grace to forgive again, one day at a time, trusting that He will meet you there—with compassion, healing, and the freedom only He can give.
Doing the hard work with you,
Karen
Food for thought or journaling …
Is there someone you are struggling to forgive? Bring this situation to the Lord this week and ask for His grace to do the hard and holy work.
Lord, You are so good and generous in forgiving me. Give me the grace to open my hands and heart to offer forgiveness to those who have wounded my loved ones or me. I trust that You will meet me there and bring healing in Your perfect timing. Amen.
P.S. Want to dig deeper? Explore forgiveness more in the Walking with Purpose Bible study, Living in the Father’s Love.
