Seriously, How Many Times? (And Why Forgiveness Isn't a Tally Sheet)

Ever been there? Someone you know, maybe someone close – in your family, your circle of friends, or at church – does something that stings. And maybe it’s not the first time. You find yourself thinking, "Okay, how many times do I have to let this slide? Is there a limit here?"

Peter, one of Jesus's best mates, basically asked the same thing. Jesus had just been teaching about how to handle it when a "brother" – someone in the faith community – messes up and hurts you. It’s a whole process: go talk to them one-on-one, if that doesn’t work bring a couple of others, then tell the church. It sounds… awkward. Vulnerable. Hard.

So, Peter, probably thinking of a few repeat offenders, chimes in: "Lord, how many times must I forgive my brother or sister? Like, seven times? Is that the magic number?" He was probably hoping for a clear cut-off point.

Jesus’ answer? "Not seven times, but seventy times seven." Hold up. Don’t grab your calculator. Jesus wasn't saying "Okay, 490 strikes and they're out!" He was saying, "Stop counting. Forgiveness isn't a tally sheet; it's a way of life."

Then, to really hammer it home, He tells this story:

Imagine a king settling accounts. A servant is brought in who owes an absolutely staggering amount – think billions today (ten thousand talents). It's unpayable. He's going to lose everything: his family, his freedom. He falls on his face, begs for patience, promising to pay it all back (which, let's be honest, was impossible). And the king, moved with compassion, does something incredible: he cancels the entire debt. Poof! Gone. Can you imagine the relief? The sheer gratitude?

You'd think that guy would be walking on air, overflowing with generosity, right?

Well, that same servant walks out, fresh from being forgiven an unimaginable sum, and finds a fellow servant who owes him a pretty small amount – maybe a few months' wages (a hundred denarii). What does he do? He grabs the guy, starts choking him, and demands, "Pay what you owe!" The poor guy begs for patience, just like he had begged the king. But no dice. The first servant has him thrown into debtor's prison.

When the other servants see this, they’re rightly horrified and tell the king. The king calls the wicked servant back. "You rotten scoundrel!" (That's my paraphrase). "I forgave you that massive, life-altering debt because you begged me. Shouldn't you have shown even a little bit of that same mercy to your fellow servant who owed you peanuts in comparison?" And the king, furious, hands him over to be punished until he pays back everything he originally owed.

Then Jesus drops the mic with this: "So also my heavenly Father will do to you unless every one of you forgives his brother or sister from your heart." (Matthew 18:35)

Oof. That stings a bit, doesn't it?

This isn't just about saying "I forgive you" while secretly stewing. It's about a forgiveness that comes "from your heart." And as the sermon highlighted, it often starts with that awkward, vulnerable step Jesus talked about before Peter’s question: if someone sins against you, you go talk to them. Yes, you – the offended one! You explain how their actions hurt you. That’s tough. It's making yourself even more vulnerable. But it opens the door for understanding, repentance, and real healing. Unspoken hurts, the sermon reminded us, are like an infection that can spread bitterness.

So why the unlimited forgiveness? Why the hard conversations? Because we are that first servant. Our sin against a holy God is the ten thousand talent debt – completely unpayable. Yet, through Jesus, God has shown us mind-blowing compassion and wiped our slate clean. The hurts we experience from others, as painful as they can be, are like that hundred denarii debt in comparison.

If we’ve truly grasped the ocean of mercy we’ve received, how can we then turn around and become spiritual loan sharks over the small debts owed to us?

This is a call to look in the mirror. As the sermon touched on with 1 Corinthians 11, when we come to the Lord's Table, or just in our daily walk, we need to examine ourselves. Are we harboring bitterness? Are we refusing to forgive because we’re still counting, still keeping a tally?

Let's Chew On This: Is there someone you need to "stop counting" with? Someone you need to forgive "from your heart"? Maybe there's even an awkward conversation you need to initiate, not to accuse, but to seek healing and restoration. Remember the king's mercy to you. Let that fuel your mercy to others. It’s not easy, but it’s the Jesus way – a higher way of living.