A Reflection for the Tuesday of the Third Week of Lent

Today’s gospel reading concerns itself with the world of numbers. In an attempt to quantify the number of times one should forgive a brother who has sinned, Peter hazards a guess: “as many as seven times?” Even seven seems to be too high of a number, honestly. It is difficult to imagine forgiving the same person twice, let alone seven times. We of course live in a world governed by the rules and laws of human justice—second chances are few and far between.

Too often, our fear of failure—our desire to be perfect and free from flaw—is directly related to a belief that our society will not accept anything less. One mistake, one strike on the record, and we’re out. We have seen the system discard and reject those who have made mistakes. We have seen cruel and merciless attitudes directed towards those who later show contrition. We have grown up surrounded by narratives of quantifiable, conditional displays of forgiveness.

In direct contrast, Jesus remarks when asked about the number of times one should forgive: “Not seven times but seventy-seven times.” The response Jesus gives to Peter reminds us of the radical, transformative power of unlimited forgiveness. Seventy-seven, as a hyperbolic number to represent infinity, does away with numbers altogether. There is no point in counting or keeping score, as we are called to forgive always.

As simple as that sentiment sounds, I believe it is core to our faith and essential to our practice as Catholics. It is in recognizing God’s compassion, as demonstrated in the gospel by the king, that we understand our calling to extend that same compassion to others. It would be hypocritical for us, sinners so freely forgiven by God, to seek punishment and payback from others. We would be no better than the wicked servant.

It is sometimes easier to muse about the importance of forgiveness when we are in a calm mindset, when we are not actively aggrieved by others, when we don’t feel severely wronged by someone. In those moments of weakness, it is extraordinarily difficult to set aside the overwhelming need to inflict pain, to hold others hostage to our anger in a prideful fit. It is in those times that we must try to direct our thoughts elsewhere—to think of the king, and subsequently the kingdom of God and its demands of its people.

God’s mercy abounds. It’s unquantifiable. It is in limitless forgiveness that we transcend above human justice and experience the healing power of God’s love.