Forgiveness is not some elective feature of Christianity; it constitutes its very essence. God the Father bestows mercy. Christ the Son atones for sin. The Holy Spirit moves souls to repentance. We are commanded in no uncertain terms to imitate this dynamic ourselves, and we of course pray daily that the Lord “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” It’s a bit of a risky prayer, if we’re honest. Hard-hearted grudges and resentments give us a struggle like nothing else: “the sinner hugs them tight.” Oftentimes even the tiniest slight unexpectedly plunges us into a place of dark, confining hatred. Reconciliation really is a bright miracle of grace.
The Our Father was not the first text to promise parallel mercy for showing mercy: “Forgive your neighbor’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven… Could anyone refuse mercy to another like himself, can he seek pardon for his own sins?” Sirach goes on, in the strongest possible terms, appealing a contemplation of one’s mortality: “Remember your last days, set enmity aside; remember death and decay, and cease from sin!” If our own inevitable human fate is not enough to move us, perhaps the Lord’s divine directive can inspire us to make redress: “Think of the commandments, hate not your neighbor; remember the Most High’s covenant, and overlook faults.”
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Similarly, the Lord answers Peter’s question on this topic with an exaggerated parable whose very logical kernel stands unassailable: “Should you not have had pity on your fellow servant, as I had pity on you?” While the original discussion concerns the frequency of pardon required, Christ’s response addresses its quantity. The numbers seven and 77 contrast with Genesis 4:24, where the heightened murderous vengefulness of Lamech reaches far beyond Cain’s. Christ has come to reverse this violent cycle by His own self-sacrifice and rising from the grave: “For this is why Christ died and came to life, that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.”
Life and death are two realities as far apart as the absurdly disparate quantities of money cited: “a much smaller amount” is how the translation renders 100 denarii, each one worth a day’s wages, versus “a huge amount,” literally 10,000 talents. One talent equals 6,000 denarii; therefore, that’s 60 million working days’ pay. It would take roughly 200,000 years to clear that balance, without additional interest (which would have been heavily levied upon Gentiles). Presumably, the debtor did not accrue that all at once, but through far more than 77 substantial transactions; thus the lengthy reply to the initial query makes sense. By analogy, our sins have long accrued and compounded. God’s clemency bridges the same unfathomable gap: “For as the heavens are high above the earth, so surpassing is his kindness… As far as the east is from the west, so far has he put our transgressions from us.” Indeed, the extremes span metaphysical bounds: “None of us lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself… so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.”
The Redeemer’s lesson isn’t over. The story’s respectable business negotiations take a brutal turn, physically. Even after receiving the master’s compassion and being excused of his astronomical tab, the servant cruelly strangles one of his own coworkers and refuses to discount what merely amounts to less than half a year’s salary, locking him away, but then in turn is given over to the brutal punishment (intended to incite the family of the incarcerated to raise the funds for his release, probably by taking other loans with worse financial consequences, which explains why “his master ordered him to be sold, along with his wife, his children, and all his property, in payment of the debt”).
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He not only saves us from such a wretched and hopeless doom, but He transforms us to be like Himself: “He redeems your life from destruction, crowns you with kindness and compassion.” Forgiveness stands in a category all its own. It frees not only its recipient, but also its human agent, from the prison of evil.
Recall that humble homage and a sincere plea occasion the first exercise of mercy: “the servant fell down, did him homage, and said, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay you back in full.’” We must prayerfully beg the Lord’s forgiveness, especially in Sacramental Confession, and then demonstrate it ourselves. He bids that “each of you forgives your brother from your heart.” It’s not optional.