(Read Matthew 18)
I have known about the topic for this week’s devotional for some time. What I was struggling with, however, was how to introduce it. Often, I will tell a story introducing people or background that led to the making of this devotional. I had a few ideas, but nothing stuck – until my run today. I saw a giant painted wooden Easter Bunny figure hammered into the ground next to a neighbor’s mailbox. More on that later…
Let me say that I abhor conflict. I haven’t raised prices for some clients in over six years because I dislike having those conversations. Since my parents fought all the time, I like it when everyone gets along. I introduce myself to everyone and hope we can all be friends. About a year after we moved here, two of our next-door neighbors nearly came to blows over an argument about a shared garden bed and water run-off. I thought it was ridiculous then and still do now. As a peace offering, I invited them to our back patio to sit down with a beer to see if we could patch this up. Things went from bad to worse. In a fit of rage, one of the neighbors confessed to reporting an infraction to the HOA.
My neighbors didn’t speak to each other for the next five years. They communicated through the proxies of their wives, my wife, or me. It was painful to watch and exhausting to experience. There were a few more tries during this time, but ego, stupidity, pride, and prejudice got in the way. “To err is human; to forgive, divine.” Though often mistaken for scripture, this line is from a poem by Alexander Pope. At the surface level, this wisdom is genius and inspired. From a Biblical perspective and in application, this statement could be interpreted as far from the truth. Sinning is a completely human condition. We err intentionally or inadvertently because that’s who we are. God knows this. At first glance, it’s unclear whether Pope meant that forgiving is “Divine” – an attribute of God, or if only God can forgive. Many commentators interpret the saying as forgiveness reflects the higher, more noble side of our nature, qualities that are supernatural and often considered divine.
“You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”
Leviticus 19:18
After all the people I asked about forgiveness this week, they might be surprised that I’m quoting from Leviticus. Leviticus 19 is often called the “Holiness Code” because it contains a series of moral and ethical commands that God gave to the Israelites to guide them in living a holy life set apart for Him. It covers various topics, from religious practices to social conduct, providing fundamental ethical principles that transcend the specific circumstances of ancient Israel and providing a connection to the New Testament whereby Jesus quoted and expanded on the concept of “neighbor” to include all people, even enemies (Luke 10:25-37).
“You shall not take vengeance” directly forbids personal retaliation. In ancient times, it was common for individuals or families to seek revenge for wrongs done to them, often escalating into cycles of violence. This command breaks that cycle. “Or bear a grudge” goes even further, prohibiting the harboring of resentment or ill will. Even if outward action is restrained, inward bitterness is condemned. Leviticus gives us a glimpse of God’s love and justice. He’s a God who cares for all people and desires them to live in harmony. The declaration “I am the Lord” emphasizes that this isn’t just a good idea — it’s a command that reflects God’s character.
I’ve always been troubled by Cain’s murder of his brother Abel in Genesis 4. When I read this passage, part of me expects God to smite Cain. Instead, God puts “a mark on Cain so that no one who found him would kill him. (Genesis 4:15)” We don’t know if the mark was a physical sign or a change in appearance or behavior — but we do know it was a sign of divine mercy. In doing this, God asserted His sovereignty. He would be the one to avenge Abel’s death. The mark wasn’t an endorsement of the crime — instead, it revealed that God was more concerned with extending mercy to the sinner than fueling a cycle of vengeance.
Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.
Ephesians 4:32
This verse comes at the end of a section in Ephesians where Paul urges believers to put off their old way of life and put on a new self, renewed in the likeness of God. Our new lives should illuminate the transformation that takes place in believers as we follow Christ. Furthermore, forgiveness is crucial for the unity and health of the church, while unforgiveness and grudges breed bitterness and division.
Pastor Andrew Taylor writes, “I like how this passage captures forgiveness both vertically and horizontally.” Paul’s word for “kind” (Greek: chrēstoi) in “Be kind and compassionate to one another…” goes beyond being “nice,” encompassing genuine concern, gentleness, and grace. “Compassionate” (literally, “tender-hearted”) points to deep empathy: feeling with others, not just for them. In a world that often values power, pride, and coldness, Paul’s teaching advocates radical forgiveness, not mere social etiquette.
Christian forgiveness, like God’s, is gracious, unearned, and freely given, as exemplified in “Just as in Christ God forgave you.” Echoing Taylor, this verse provides the motivation and pattern for forgiveness, both vertically and horizontally. It’s not contingent on what someone deserves or what feels just, but rather on our response to God’s forgiveness – a forgiveness that was complete, sacrificial, and purchased at the immeasurable price of Christ’s death. The phrase “in Christ” reminds us that God’s grace-filled forgiveness is exclusively secured through Christ’s atoning sacrifice. Thus, forgiveness transcends mere moral obligation; it’s an integral expression of the transformed life of a believer.
I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!”
Galatians 2:20-21
Paul is speaking metaphorically but profoundly in Galatians. He strongly refuted false teachings about dogmatically following Jewish Law, arguing that salvation is by grace through faith in Jesus Christ alone. When someone puts their faith in Jesus, their old self, sins, pride, and self-reliance — is put to death. Paul wasn’t talking about behavior modification. It’s not willing yourself to do something; it’s about identity transformation. Paul’s ego, his old life, is no longer in charge. His new life is powered by the indwelling presence of Christ. What we need to remember is that Jesus’ grace is not only perfect and profound, it’s personal. We can see it knowing that Jesus didn’t just die for the world, but “He died for me.”
In 1994, Immaculée Ilibagiza, a profoundly faithful 22-year-old from a small village in western Rwanda, faced the devastating loss of her entire family in the genocide. Surviving by hiding in a tiny bathroom with seven other women as her family was murdered, she made a powerful choice: to reject hatred and embrace forgiveness, a choice made possible by her profound faith in Christ. It was her Christ-centered perspective that enabled her to forgive those responsible for the atrocities. Immaculée’s experience is documented in her memoir, Left to Tell, and she went on to establish the Left to Tell Charitable Fund to support orphaned children. Had she relied on her own strength instead of Christ’s grace, she might’ve remained just another victim among the 600,000 dead — without the hope of reconciliation.
Twenty years later, New York Times photographer Peter Hiogo documented Rwanda’s reconciliation in a photo essay. One particularly striking photo portrays a survivor and a former perpetrator standing together, a powerful testament to the forgiveness that lies at the heart of reconciliation. This image embodies the healing between Hutus and Tutsis, the redemption through the Son, the movement from darkness to light, and the forgiveness of sins described in Colossians 1:14.
Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
Colossians 3:13
As a sexagenarian (not sexy, just sixty-something), I can confidently say that all of us can be difficult at times. Paul’s words — “Bear with each other” — call for patience, tolerance, and humility when dealing with others and ourselves. He invites us to live with grace-filled endurance, especially when it’s hard. Forgiveness isn’t abstract — it applies to real, painful grievances. And I believe the key takeaway is this: “Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” Christians forgive because they’ve been forgiven — freely, fully, and repeatedly. We didn’t earn it from Jesus, so we’re called to extend that same kind of no-strings-attached, grace-filled forgiveness to others. Forgiveness isn’t about whether someone deserves it — it’s about living from the grace we’ve already received in Christ.
“Forgive as the Lord forgave you”:
Just a few months ago, one of my argumentative neighbors announced that he and his wife were moving to a Caribbean island. They had enough of living in a large house with a big yard. They were tired of the “tyranny of things.” Instead of selling things off individually, they included everything in their move. Everything. Furniture, tools, jetski, etc… Two potential sales fell through. One day, my wife ran into my office, shouting, “you’ll never guess who’s buying their house?” It was the other neighbor, formally known as “the enemy.” These guys wouldn’t even so much as wave at each other for three years. Now, they’re chatting regularly, texting, calling, and working things out together. “Believe it or not, I’m sad they’re moving,” my neighbor said. “I guess sometimes you get used to not talking to people.”
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.
1 John 1:9
The Greek word for “confess” (homologeo) means “to agree with,” “to say the same thing as,” or “to acknowledge.” It involves more than just saying, “I’m a sinner.” It’s a specific recognition of our personal sins — a way of aligning our perspective with God’s judgment of them.
Confession is not a one-time act but an ongoing rhythm in the Christian life. It requires honesty, humility, and a willingness to take responsibility for our actions. True confession includes a turning away from sin and a renewed desire to walk in obedience to God. In this way, confession becomes a gateway to restoration, not condemnation.
In his letter, John emphasizes that forgiveness is not earned by our performance but is rooted in God’s character and Christ’s sacrifice.
“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
(1 John 1:9)
Forgiveness is not just a divine command — it’s also a gift to us. Think about it: when we were kids (and especially teenagers), we often tuned out our parents’ advice. It sounded like, “blah, blah, blah.” Only later do we realize their words came from a place of experience and love. Likewise, when Jesus tells us to forgive, it’s not because it’s easy — it’s because He knows it’s good for us. Forgiveness releases us from the grip of resentment and restores peace in our hearts.
And science backs this up: research shows that unforgiveness — the deliberate choice to hold onto anger and bitterness — can harm both mental and physical health. Studies link grudges to increased anxiety, depression, and hostility. Physically, unforgiveness can elevate blood pressure and heart rate, increasing the risk of heart problems.
Jesus didn’t ask us to forgive just for the sake of others — He knew it was essential for our freedom and healing.
Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.
Matthew 18:21-22
When I saw the wooden Easter Bunny on my run this morning, I knew this is how I would lead and close the devotional. Who showed more forgiveness than Jesus Christ? Who paid the highest price for our forgiveness? Christ’s forgiveness brought Him here, satisfied a penalty we are unworthy of paying, and reunited us with the perfect love of Abba, our Father.
It has been said that seventy times seven was hyperbole, which Jesus exaggerated to make a point. He didn’t mean 7×70 or 490. Peter thought he was being generous — rabbinic teaching typically capped forgiveness at three times. By offering seven, Peter believed he was going above and beyond. But Jesus, in effect, was saying:
“Stop counting. Make forgiveness your way of life.”
Forgiveness is unlimited and ongoing — a complete reversal of the human instinct to keep score. It has no cap, shows that grace doesn’t come with a quota, isn’t easy, but is liberating. Most of all, forgiveness imitates God.
Jesus teaches that grace doesn’t come with a quota. True forgiveness is continual, not transactional. It’s not a ledger; it’s a lifestyle. To my friends and family whom I left out of the survey or whose fantastic answers I didn’t include in this devotional, please forgive me.
“Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.”
– Mark Twain
Additional Thoughts:
- Read Mark 11:25, Matthew 6:14-15, and Luke 23:34
- Forgiveness is not optional — it’s essential. If you hold anything against anyone, forgive them so that your heavenly Father may forgive you your sins. Even in unimaginable pain, Jesus forgave. If we’re His followers, we’re called to extend the same mercy — especially when it’s hard.