“Then Peter came to Him and said, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Up to seven times?”

Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.” (Matthew 18:21-22)

Forgiveness is a weighty topic. In reality it’s messy, often involving personal and painful situations. And it is clear that the Lord tells us we are supposed to forgive, not just occasionally or when it suits us, but up to seventy times seven. The breadth of this command can feel overwhelming, especially when we face it in the context of our own wounds. But it’s also clearly important that we wrestle with it. 

I generally find the idea and practice of forgiveness easier in personal relationships. Or rather I shouldn’t say easier, but simply a necessity. It is clear that I should work to move past hurts with my husband, sister, mother: there is a relationship at stake there. But it’s much harder to hold when it’s not so personal, when the hurt comes from those who are more distant, whether they are public figures or strangers whose actions affect me or those I love. What about those who commit atrocities in the news, like murderers or child abusers? Or acquaintances whose views or actions have hurt people or ideals dear to me?

Unsurprisingly, the call to forgive still applies. Forgiveness, in its essence, is the act of relinquishing our right to hold resentment against someone, regardless of whether or not they deserve it. But we also know that forgiveness doesn’t mean ignoring or glossing over the harm done, nor does it necessarily require reconciliation with the one who has wronged us. It’s an inner process of healing, letting go of anger that only poisons us, not the one who has sinned. (Reference: https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/topic/forgiveness/definition)

It’s hard, though, isn’t it? Especially when we see wrongdoers continue on with their lives, unaffected by the damage they’ve caused. The anger and resentment is hard to see beyond, and when I feel helpless in the face of injustice, it feels even harder to extend any compassion toward the transgressors. So it’s not easy. But it’s also clearly important.    

I think it quite obviously matters a lot whether a sinner is repentant or not. Is that person trying to change or atone for what they did, or are they continuing in these harmful actions? For those who are unrepentant and uninterested in healing, the best I can think is that the Lord still loves them. There is something good in them or they couldn’t exist, and the Lord hasn’t given up on them. Holding that idea in the back of my mind helps to soften my heart: the Lord is really the one holding this all, all of us, especially when I feel trapped under the weight of injustice.  

For those who are trying to change: those who may have wronged very badly, but are looking to do better, there’s a passage that really resonates with me: 

“Though your sins are like scarlet, They shall be as white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, They shall be as wool.” (Isaiah 1:18) 

This image of healing, of sins being transformed from deep stains to pure snow, always hits my heart. The ugly harm of any sins can be healed, and can become as clean as new snow. There is a future where all of these hurts are washed away, all hurt-ers are washed clean. And the Lord is leading all of us to that future, if we are willing. On earth that doesn’t mean opening our arms, homes, or hearts to those who have really hurt things that matter, but it does mean letting go of resentment. It means allowing some space in my heart for a future where they are healed, and bring healing.

Of course here the Lord isn’t just talking about those sinners out there, He is talking about me too. My sins can be utterly forgiven. Which is such a big and humbling truth to hold on to, perhaps the most important one in this topic.

There are terrible, unforgivable things in this world, and it’s so hard not to feel rage in response. At least for me, it’s not easy to let go of the hurt and pain others cause when those I love are harmed. And I think it’s okay to start there—feeling protective, longing for justice. But the reality is, holding onto vengeance and resentment only traps me in pain. It doesn’t bring healing—it hurts me the most. And that’s where I want to improve.

When I can remember that the goal isn’t wiping away what was done wrong, but on not poisoning my spirit with resentment, that does help. That’s the starting place. And from there if I can hold that even when forgiving really awful harm feels too big for me, it is never too big for the Lord. With the Lord it is possible for any sins to become so distant and healed that a new life can grow. IF we are willing to change–that is essential. But when we are willing, no sin is too big, and no sinner too lost that the Lord isn’t still reaching out to her. Holding that idea in the center of it all gives me hope, for myself and others, and helps my heart to soften. 

“For I will take you from among the nations, gather you out of all countries, and bring you into your own land. Then I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean; I will cleanse you from all your filthiness and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” (Ezekiel 36:24-26) 

And this promise is not just for others, but for me too.