24th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Forgiveness Becomes Truly Christian: When Mercy Exceeds Measure and Love Refuses to Keep Score
(Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Mathew 18:21-35, 13 September 2026)
Today, the Gospel talks to us about forgiveness (Mathew 18:21-35). Peter asks Jesus: “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” (Mathew 18:21). Seven, in the Bible, is a number that indicates completeness, and so Peter is very generous in the assumptions of his question. But Jesus goes further, and answers him: “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven” (Mathew 18:22). He tells him, that is, that when one forgives, one does not calculate; that it is good to forgive everything, and always! Just as God does with us, and as those who administer God’s justice are required to do: forgive always. I say this a lot to priests, to confessors: always forgive, as God forgives. (Pope Francis, Angelus, 2023)
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Jesus Christ,
When the Human Heart Begins to Count-Today’s Gospel speaks to us about one of the most difficult and yet most beautiful demands of Christian discipleship: forgiveness. Peter approaches Jesus with a question that sounds generous: “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” (Matthew 18:21).
Peter thinks he is offering an impressive number. In biblical symbolism, seven represents completeness or fullness. Peter is therefore asking, in effect: “Lord, is seven times enough? How far must my generosity go?” But Jesus overturns Peter’s arithmetic: “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven” (Matthew 18:22). Jesus is not giving Peter a larger number to calculate. He is destroying the calculator itself. Christian forgiveness cannot be reduced to mathematics. We often ask: How many times should I forgive? How many chances should I give? When is enough enough? Why should I forgive someone who keeps hurting me? These are understandable human questions. But Jesus introduces us to a different logic—the logic of mercy.
As Pope Francis observed in his 2023 Angelus reflection on this Gospel: forgiveness is not something we count; it is something we give because we ourselves have received God’s forgiveness. He especially reminded priests and confessors that they are called to forgive as God forgives. The difference is profound: Justice asks, “What is owed?” Mercy asks, “What can restore?” Justice calculates the debt. Mercy seeks the person. Justice remembers the offense. Mercy remembers the possibility of reconciliation. And Christianity does not abolish justice; rather, it reveals that justice finds its deepest fulfillment when it is transformed by love.
The Parable of the Two Debtors: From Debt to Mercy-Jesus then tells the parable of the servant who owes his master an enormous debt. The servant cannot possibly repay it. His entire situation is hopeless. Yet the master has compassion and releases him from the debt. Notice the extraordinary movement of the story. The servant does not negotiate his way out. He does not earn forgiveness. He does not prove himself worthy. He receives mercy. This is the heart of Christian theology. Before we are people who forgive, we are people who have been forgiven. Before we extend mercy, we have received mercy. Before we open our hands to another person, we must recognize how much God has already opened His hands toward us.
Forgiveness Is Not Forgetting; It Is Refusing to Be Governed by the Wound-One of the common misunderstandings about forgiveness is that forgiveness means pretending that nothing happened. It does not. Christian forgiveness does not deny evil. It does not call injustice acceptable. It does not mean that we must place ourselves repeatedly in situations of abuse or danger. It does not eliminate the need for justice, boundaries, accountability, or appropriate consequences. Rather, forgiveness means that the wrong committed against me no longer has the final word over my heart.
A wound can become an identity. A person may begin to think: “I am the person who was betrayed.” “I am the person who was rejected.” “I am the person who was humiliated.” “I am the person who was forgotten.”
The wound becomes a permanent lens through which everything else is interpreted. Forgiveness begins when we say: “What happened to me is part of my story, but it will not become the master of my future.”
This is why forgiveness is profoundly philosophical as well as theological. The unforgiving heart remains imprisoned in the past. The forgiving heart becomes capable of the future. Forgiveness is therefore not weakness. It can require extraordinary strength. To forgive is to refuse to allow another person’s sin to determine the kind of person I will become. If someone has treated me with hatred, I do not need to become hateful. If someone has wounded me with bitterness, I do not need to become bitter. If someone has withheld love, I do not need to withhold love. Forgiveness breaks the chain of evil.
“Seventy Times Seven”: Love Refuses to Keep Score-Jesus’ command to forgive “seventy times seven” is not simply about quantity. It is about the quality of the Christian heart. Love does not keep an accounting ledger. Saint Paul tells us that love “does not keep a record of wrongs” (1 Corinthians 13:5).
Sometimes we forgive someone and then keep the receipt. We say, “I forgive you, but I will never forget what you did.” Perhaps we cannot forget—and perhaps we should not forget the lessons of experience. But Christianity asks something deeper: Do not allow the memory of the wound to become the source of hatred.
The Christian places the past beneath the mercy of God. That is what the Cross teaches us. Jesus does not deny the reality of human sin. He takes it upon Himself and transforms it through love. From the Cross He prays: “Father, forgive them.” (Luke 23:34). The Cross is God’s answer to the human instinct for revenge. We say: “You hurt me; therefore I will hurt you.” Christ says: “You hurt Me; yet I will still love you.” This is not ordinary human morality. It is the radical newness of the Gospel.
The Eucharist: We Receive What We Are Called to Become-Every Sunday, we gather around the altar as people who need mercy. We do not come because we are perfect. We come because we need Christ. At every Eucharist we hear the words: “This is the chalice of my blood… poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.” The Eucharist therefore places forgiveness at the center of Christian existence. We receive the Body of Christ. But we cannot receive Christ while deliberately cultivating hatred toward His members. We come to the altar asking: “Lord, make my heart resemble Your heart.” And what is the heart of Christ? It is a heart that gives itself. A heart that does not retaliate. A heart that seeks the sinner. A heart that welcomes the lost. A heart that says: “Mercy is greater than your failure.”
Forgiveness Begins with a Decision, Not a Feeling-Sometimes people say, “I cannot forgive because I do not feel forgiving.” But forgiveness does not always begin with a feeling. Feelings may take time. Forgiveness often begins with a decision of the will.
We can pray: “Lord, I am not yet able to feel love toward this person. But I choose not to hate. I choose not to seek revenge. I place this person into Your hands. Heal what I cannot heal.” That prayer can become the beginning of freedom. Forgiveness may be gradual. We may need to say again: “Lord, I forgive.” And again: “Lord, I release this person to You.” And again: “Lord, heal my heart.” The Measure We Use for Others Becomes the Measure We Discover Within Ourselves
This question is directed not only toward that servant. It is directed toward us. “Should you not have had mercy, as I have had mercy on you?” Every Christian eventually has to stand before this question.
Mercy Is the Shape of the Christian Heart-The world often teaches us: “Never forget.” Christ teaches: “Forgive.” The world says: “Get even.” Christ says: “Break the cycle.” The world says: “Keep score.” Christ says: “Love without calculation.” The world says: “They deserve what they did to you.” Christ asks: “What do you deserve—and how much mercy have you already received?
Mercy is what begins the sinner’s journey toward conversion. This is why forgiveness is not merely a moral obligation. It is participation in the very life of God. To forgive is to imitate God. To forgive is to allow divine mercy to pass through us and reach another person.
Fraternally,
Fr. John Peter Lazaar SAC, Pastor