Seventy-Seven Times

 

“Forgiveness is the name of love practiced among people who love poorly. The hard truth is that all people love poorly. We need to forgive and be forgiven every day, every hour increasingly.”—Henri Nouwen

In Matthew's Gospel chapter 18, Peter asks Jesus a serious question that people for centuries have been asking as well:  question: 

“Lord, how often should I forgive someone who has wronged me? As many as seven times?”

You have to appreciate Peter's question.

He wants a number.

Surely forgiveness has a limit. Surely there comes a moment when we have forgiven enough.

Seven times probably sounded generous.

I mean, how much do you have to take from someone who keeps grieving you? 

I've been asked that question more than once as a pastor.  

I've been asked by spouses of abusive alcoholics, parents of addicted children, people who have been betrayed repeatedly by the infidelity of a partner, adult children whose parents abused them, and refuse to acknowledge it, and the list goes on and on.  

Peter's question is one that most of us know well, and have undoubtedly asked it more than once in our lives.  God knows, I have.  

So it's kind of hard to swallow when you keep reading in the text of Matthew and see Jesus' answer. 

Jesus responds to Peter, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.”

Jesus isn't giving Peter a larger number to keep track of. He is telling him to stop counting.

Then Jesus tells a story about a servant who owes a king an unimaginable debt. The servant begs for mercy, and astonishingly, the king forgives everything.

But then the forgiven servant encounters someone who owes him a much smaller amount. Instead of extending the mercy he has received, he demands repayment.

Jesus' point is uncomfortable.

Grace is supposed to change us.

“Forgiven people forgive” sounds beautiful until we actually have someone to forgive.

Forgiveness does not mean pretending the wound never happened. It does not mean remaining in an abusive relationship, eliminating healthy boundaries, or automatically restoring trust. Trust may need to be rebuilt slowly—and sometimes reconciliation isn't possible.

Forgiveness means refusing to allow what someone did to have permanent ownership of our hearts.  Forgiveness means setting ourselves free from the terrible burden of bitterness.  

Richard Rohr often describes forgiveness as letting go of our "right to retaliate." That may be one reason forgiveness can feel so difficult. Resentment gives us the illusion that we remain in control.

But eventually resentment becomes another kind of prison.

Jesus offers freedom.

Not by denying what happened.

Not by calling evil good.

But by allowing grace to have the final word.

We forgive because we remember that we live by mercy too.

None of us stands before God because we earned our place there. We stand there because grace opened the door.

And once we realize how much mercy we have received, something slowly begins changing within us.

The grace that came to us begins flowing through us.

Because grace that stops with us has not yet finished its transforming work.

May this be so for you and for me, and may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us all, now and forever. Amen.  

Prayer

Merciful God, thank you for the grace you have given me again and again. Heal the wounds I carry, free me from the burden of resentment, and give me strength to extend mercy without abandoning wisdom or healthy boundaries. Make my heart more like yours. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. Is there a hurt or resentment I continue to carry?
2. How does remembering the grace I have received change how I think about forgiveness?
3. What might releasing my need for retaliation look like today?