The line from this Gospel about forgiving someone seventy-seven times (or in some translations ‘seventy times seven’) is the sort of phrase we remember well, often from our childhood encounters with this reading at Mass on Sunday. Of course, a child’s understanding of forgiveness is limited, (not to mention the maths of seventy times seven), as is their understanding of what forgiveness can cost you, or why you should practise it. For us adults, a lifetime of living as part of a community gives us a much greater familiarity with forgiveness, how difficult it can be, as well as its benefits and its costs.

In many ways the reaction of the slave who was forgiven by his master, to then punish the man who had done wrong to him, is a very human response. Someone hurts us so we want to hurt them back. We see this with children in their friendships or sibling relationships; however, it is in fact a deeply human instinct for ‘grown ups’ too: we feel that we will only recover from a hurt if we can make someone else feel the same way.

The Gospel shows us (in a bit of a frightening way) that passing on our hurts is not only wrong, but that it will continue to harm us. The first reading, Ecclesiasticus, tells us the same message in a slightly gentler way:

“Forgive your neighbour the hurt he does you, and when you pray, your sins will be forgiven. If a man nurses anger against another, can he then demand compassion from the Lord?... Remember the commandments, and do not bear your neighbour ill-will…”

When explaining forgiveness to young people at home or in schools, we show them the examples set for us by Jesus of how to treat and forgive others and speak about it as part of our Christian and sacramental life. It can also be helpful to remind them that the study of psychology, mental health and wellness in the secular world now acknowledges the power of forgiveness in personal healing. That even though someone may have hurt us, allowing them to continue to hold that power over us (‘living rent-free in our heads’) without forgiving them continues to hurt us in the long run. Perhaps this age-old wisdom plays a small part in Jesus’ teaching that forgiveness should be without limit.

After reading the Gospel a few times, I found an unexpected glimmer of hope happening on the sidelines of the main story, almost unnoticed. We read this:

His fellow servants were deeply distressed when they saw what had happened, and they went to their master and reported the whole affair to him. 

Too often we see in the world around us people standing by, witnessing injustice and turning the other way. It is significant in this Gospel that, even though the servant was acting unjustly immediately after being forgiven himself, his mates/ colleagues/ neighbours saw his behaviour and knew it fell short. They were not willing to stand by and see his behaviour hurting another, particularly when they may have also known about the mercy which had just been shown to him. In fact, we can see that their reaction was more than a desire for justice to be evenly handed out to all, it seemed to strike at their humanity, their sense of right and wrong as we are told they were ‘deeply distressed’. Their hearts are troubled, seeing this treatment of their fellow servant, and they are moved to ‘distress’ by the situation. They cannot close their eyes or turn their backs and be ‘bystanders’; they are moved to compassion and action.

In a world where lots of community relationships have been broken or fractured, where many people lack real life networks and companionship, where we are increasingly wary and frightened by the ‘stranger’ or the ‘other’, it is easy to feel we are acting alone and to forget how much our actions affect others. It is also easy for us to play the judge: to read about or see situations which we think we understand, and to judge people unkindly for their actions, often without knowing the real story. How great it would be if all people in our community of friends or acquaintances called out attitudes or actions of injustice, giving us the nudge we need to rethink our actions and ensure that we act with compassion.

Pope Francis said it well “A little bit of mercy makes the world less cold and more just”. The readings for this Sunday inspire us to show this mercy again and again, without limit, without keeping score, in the attempt to make the world a kinder, gentler place.