
Jesus’ words in Matthew 6.14-15 are stark.
“For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” (ESV)
There is no hedging here. Forgiveness is not an optional practice for the spiritually advanced. It is the condition of life with God.
That makes forgiveness one of the hardest tasks we are ever called to. It is rarely neat. It does not erase the wound or undo the consequences. Forgiveness sits in the tension between truth and grace, between naming sin honestly and refusing to let that sin write the final chapter. Anyone who has carried the weight of a shepherd, or to hold together a family or friendship, knows how heavy that tension can feel.
The Bible keeps circling this theme. Cain cannot master his resentment toward Abel, and violence enters the world. Joseph’s brothers betray him, and years of fracture follow. Israel tests God again and again, and the community bears the weight of rebellion. Yet the story does not end there. Joseph weeps before his brothers and says, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good. The psalmist sings that the Lord removes our sins as far as the east is from the west. Micah declares, Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity? Over and over, the pattern holds. Human beings wound each other, but God moves toward mercy.
When Jesus comes, that pattern takes on flesh. He restores Peter after betrayal. He tells stories of fathers running to embrace prodigals. He welcomes tax collectors and sinners to His table. And at the cross, when the world pours out its worst violence, His words are still, Father, forgive them. Forgiveness is not a minor note in His mission. It is the melody.
Yet forgiveness is not soft. It names the wound. Joseph never excused his brothers’ actions. Jesus never dismissed sin as a small matter. Forgiveness is clear-eyed about the damage. But it also refuses to let the damage have the last word. It pushes toward repentance, and it pulls toward reconciliation. That is the tension we live with in every relationship. Press too hard, and you crush a soul under shame. Pull back too far, and you excuse what destroys.
I think this is why Jesus ties our forgiveness of others to the Father’s forgiveness of us. Only those who know they live on mercy can extend it to others. If I forget how much I have been forgiven, I will demand too much. If I forget the holiness of God, I will excuse too much. Forgiveness grows only when both truths stay in view.
Forgiveness is like tending a field. You cannot harvest before the seed breaks ground. You cannot ignore the weeds and hope for fruit. It takes patience to wait, discipline to prune, and honesty to pull what would choke the soil. Relationships are no different. Forgiveness does not erase the wound, but it creates the conditions for healing to take root.
Each of us will stand on both sides of this equation. Sometimes we will be the ones asked to forgive. Other times, we will be the ones desperate for forgiveness. That truth alone should humble us. To withhold forgiveness is not only to punish another person. It is to cut ourselves off from the very grace we cannot live without.
So the Scriptures call us again and again to forgive like Joseph, who chose mercy instead of revenge, like David, who sang of a God who does not repay us as our sins deserve, like Jesus, who prayed for His enemies as He bore the cross. The story ends with healed people and every tear wiped away. Forgiveness is not weakness. It is the strength to live today in light of that promised tomorrow.
So whether you shepherd a congregation, raise a family, or walk alongside a friend, hold the tension. Speak truth. Extend grace. Do not look down on those who stumble. Do not crush those who repent. Forgive as you have been forgiven. That is the way of Christ. That is the way forward.
~PW 🌮🛶
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