Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times. For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and pay­ment to be made.

So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow-slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ Then his fellow-slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he should pay the debt.

When his fellow-slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow-slave, as I had mercy on you?’ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he should pay his entire debt. So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”
~ Matthew 18:21-35

There was once a woman who bought a parrot who could talk, but unfortunately, he turned out to be insulting: “You’re ugly!” “You’re stupid!” “You don’t deserve to own an intelligent bird like me!” Finally one day she had had all she could stand. She picked him up and, while he cried “Put me down, you moron!” and pecked her arm, went over to the refrigerator and threw him in the freezer. He continued yelling for a moment, and then grew quiet. “Oh no, I’ve killed him!” She opened the freezer and took him out, frosty and shivering but very much alive. “I apologize. I will never be impolite again. Will you forgive me?” said the bird. The woman responded, “Of course. I am a Christian. I live by forgiveness.” After a moment the bird pointed his head toward the freezer and said, “May I ask you something? Just out of curiosity, what did that chicken do?”

I know it’s a silly story, but it contains one incredibly important line. When the parrot asks for forgiveness, the woman answers: “Of course I will forgive you. I am a Christian. I live by forgiveness.”

That is a cornerstone principle of our faith— to be people who live by forgiveness. In the morning lesson, Simon Peter approached Jesus and asked, “How often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” To be honest, that seems like a gracious plenty, and probably more than most of us would be willing to do. We operate by dictums like: “Once burned, a lesson learned. Twice burned, a fool.” “Hurt me once, shame on you. Hurt me twice, shame on me.” “Don’t get mad. Get even!” Or “Never give one person a second chance to hurt!” Even Simon Peter’s own faith taught, in the Torah: “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.” So almost anyone would have said that Simon in this passage stretches the boundaries of grace, offering far more compassion and forgiveness than even logic or faith required. “How often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” But Jesus answered: “No, not seven times, but seventy times seven.” In other words, there is no quota on forgiveness. As long as it is needed, it is required. Or, as the woman in the joke said: “We are Christians. We live by forgiveness.”

Jesus went on to tell Simon Peter a story about a man who begged the king to forgive him for a major debt that he could never repay, a debt that could have landed him in prison. And the king, from a generous and gracious heart, forgave him. But then that same man, when faced with a neighbor who owed him just a pittance, hardly anything, refused to forgive. What jumps off the page and grabs you by the throat when you read that story is the profound difference between the beauty of one who forgives and the ugliness of one who holds onto a grudge. “I am a Christian,” the woman said. “I live by forgiveness.”

Okay, that’s easy to say, all this “forgiveness talk.” It’s biblically, theologically, even psychologically sound. But it is also a whole lot easier said than done. It is not easy to let go of hate when someone has hurt you. But Jesus was master psychologist. He understood human nature and so knew that when we hang onto grudges, it rarely, almost never, harms the other person. But by refusing to forgive, we make our own lives miserable. In most cases, forgiveness becomes not so much a gift that we give to someone else, but a gift that we offer to ourselves.

(1) That is the first reason forgiveness makes sense. Resentment is just too heavy a burden to bear!

Let me give you an extreme illustration of this—one that is far more dramatic than I hope any of you ever has to face.

I have a dear friend of many years who, as a young woman fresh out of college, suffered a violent sexual assault from a man she had never met. She literally thought he was going to murder her. After she was released from the hospital, she entered therapy with a good counselor—no doubt the smartest thing she could possibly have done. It took a long time to process what had happened to her, but at last she did. Later she told me about it, and I will never forget the power of the statement she made: “The worst day of my life was when he attacked me. But the best day of my life was when I at last forgave him. Once I did that, he no longer held me captive.”

As I said, that is an extreme example. But I tell you, I have never forgotten what she said. If she could do what she did, then I think I can learn to forgive people who say, “That was a pretty terrible sermon,” or people who say, “Sorry, the promotion went to someone else.” The most important thing my friend taught me was that a failure to forgive continues to bring pain to the one who was originally hurt. The people who have offended us often don’t think they did—and sometimes don’t care. Resentment, therefore, is usually our burden, not theirs. “Once I forgave,” my friend said, “he no longer held me captive.” Who’s holding you captive? Whose memory is making you miserable?

Gerald Jampolsky, a psychiatrist who lectures and teaches about love and forgiveness, writes, in Love Is Letting Go of Fear: “Forgiveness is the key to happiness. Inner peace can be reached only when we practice forgiveness.” And so Jesus advised Simon—and us: “You shall forgive not seven times, but seventy times seven.”

(2) The second reason why forgiveness makes sense is that it has the potential to turn enemies into potential friends.

In his book My Enemy, My Friend, retired General Dan Cherry reports the true story of two men he reunited thirty years after the Viet Nam War had ended. One was a fighter pilot named Hong My. The other was a former Air Force pilot named John Stiles. Hong My had shot Lieutenant Stiles’ plane down during an air battle in Vietnam. For thirty years Stiles had kept all his memorabilia from the war locked away in the attic; the memories were too painful to look at those things, and the anger was too deep to throw them away. So Dan Cherry set up a meeting between Stiles and Hong My.

At first they stood, staring, not knowing what to say. Then, without words, they embraced. I saw the video on the CBS Morning Show—two men, now grandfathers, who held each other and wept. John Stiles said, “In that moment, all the feelings from all those years went away. At last, for me, the war was over.” Those two men, who in battle had tried to kill one another, have become friends, criss-crossing continents to visit in one another’s homes, and their children and families are friends, and their former bitterness has turned into joy.

Forgiveness is not easy. It requires remarkable inner strength. And to a great extent that is because the old adage forgive and forget is impossible. We don’t really forget the unkindnesses or injustices we have suffered. And that makes a forgiving spirit all the more impressive from a spiritual point of view—because we are called upon to forgive even though we still remember. But if we can make it happen, some­times we turn an enemy into a friend. And the simple truth is, life is too short to collect enemies, and too precious to miss out on friends.

(3) Okay, THE question is: How do we do it? How do we make peace with the past and let go of the burden of resentment?

Let me suggest two things.

The first is this: We have to determine how much power over our lives we are willing to surrender to someone else.

In her moment of forgiveness, my friend said, “He no longer held me captive!” John Stiles said: “At last, for me, the war was over!”

Thank God it is usually in far, far lesser ways that all of us have been wronged or violated. But, in some way or another, all of us have been. And scripture and experience and logic all tell us that as long as we harbor hatred against those who hurt us, we continue to give them power over us—over our emotions, our futures, our lives. How do we learn to forgive? First, by deciding: “I will not let that person’s darkness keep me from the light! I will not allow them that much power over my life!”

Second, and this is so important: Don’t repress, but instead process. If you have been hurt—and if it is possible to do—go to your offender and talk it out. Try to resolve it, to work it through. Or do what my friend did. Go to a competent therapist who can help you process your pain. And by all means, by all means, talk to God about it in prayer. There’s nothing you’ve been through and no emotion you feel that God will not understand. God will not judge you for being angry, but will help you to let it go.

Oh, what peace we often forfeit.
Oh, what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer.
(What A Friend We Have In Jesus, Joseph Scriven, 1855)

Don’t repress your feelings. Instead, process them.

“How often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Peter asked. “As many as seven times?” And Jesus answered: “No, not seven times, but seventy times seven.” We are Christians. We live by forgiveness.

Why is that our commitment? Because not to forgive is just too big a burden to carry…and sometimes by forgiving we can turn enemies into friends.

So what do we do? We choose not to relinquish power to those who have hurt us; not to repress but to process our feelings; and always, always to pray. It’s not easy. I would be lying if I told you it is. But, as Gerald Jampolsky put it: “Forgiveness is the key to happiness. Inner peace can be reached only when we learn how to forgive.” Let us pray.

Gracious Lord, who has not made us to suffer, let us not become victims of our own shadowy emotions. Grant that we may rise above hostility or bitterness, and that whenever it seeks to seize us, we will be given the grace and wisdom to resist. Help us, O God, to forgive, even as we have been forgiven. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.