Forgiveness has become a common term, but nonetheless ambiguous. Forgiveness is not a univocal concept. We do not share the same understanding, nor mean the same thing when we speak of forgiveness, even within the context of the Church. It is undisputed that forgiveness is an essential dimension of Christian faith. But what does it mean to forgive? For some, it means forgetting or “letting go” of what happened; for others it has to do with the ability to understand and accept those who offended us; and for many it is compared to reconciliation, presupposing repentance. Many of these situations or actions that we call forgiveness may not necessarily be so.

Forgiveness is not a strange term in Scripture. Wisdom literature implicitly calls for acts of forgiveness and mercy when warning against the perils of wrath and anger (Ps 37:8). In the New Testament, Jesus is more explicit about the significance of forgiveness in human relationships. Forgiveness has a central place both in Jesus’s teachings and his actions. Today’s Gospel invites us to consider Jesus’ stance regarding this experience. 

From the parable of the unforgiving servant, I identify two important points. The first one has to do with the king’s unlimited forgiveness towards his servant. In the Greek, the expression “huge amount” means 10,000 talents, which would correspond to 60 million days’ wages – an unimaginable amount that speaks to the extraordinary, superabundant, and hyperbolic nature of God’s forgiveness which extends to human forgiveness. There is an “excess,” a mysterious aura around the act of forgiveness that goes beyond our capacity to fully comprehend it and that, above all, calls for our acknowledgement and responsibility. 

The second point addresses the fact that the king’s forgiveness opens a new possibility for his servant. This new beginning is not, however, without responsibility as if nothing had happened. This new beginning, which forgiveness opens up, only becomes a real possibility if there is a genuine change of heart of the forgiven one. This does not mean that God’s forgiveness is conditioned by our actions, but only a redeemed heart will be able to truly experiment and perceive the mysterious power of forgiveness. In this context, we can understand forgiveness, with the help of philosopher Hannah Arendt in her work The Human Condition, as a response to who we are, and not to what we are in our characteristics and weaknesses. Without forgiveness, our agency would be determined and twisted by one single misdeed. Arendt recognizes that in forgiveness we “remain superior to what [we] have done, at least as long as the source of creativity is alive” (211).

The servant’s lack of mercy towards his fellows confirms how he was distant from that source of creativity and life and, thus, had failed to recognize and receive the king’s forgiveness. As written in the Gospel of John, “whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness” (1 John 2:9). Could anyone who refuses mercy to someone else truly believe in the power of forgiveness? This false conscience, which does not carry nor assume the weight of guilt, is an obstacle to the creative force of forgiveness. It also generates distrust around the possibility of forgiveness and subverts its meaning. Forgiveness is not a “free-pass” or a mere “formality” that grants the possibility to act as if nothing had happened. On the contrary, forgiveness opens up the possibility of a transformed life and not the repetition of what was. At the core of the forgiving act is the tension between the past and future, which means we must refuse to expect a simple repetition of the past. We must reach beyond the established status quo in the act of forgiving.

In sum, forgiveness without repentance, without the acknowledgment of the evil committed and its repercussions, has no liberating capacity. The servant’s imprisonment is not a punishment; it is primarily a consequence of his lack of repentance and refusal to a ‘new life,’ a new paradigm. His imprisonment reflects that he remains captive to the cycles of return and retribution, in which everyone is expected to pay what is owed. In the parable of the unforgiving servant, we witness that God’s forgiveness and human forgiveness are interconnected, that our relationship to God cannot be understood apart from our earthly life and our relationships.

Today’s readings invite us to contemplate the mystery of mercy and forgiveness. These are not abstract ideas or categories, but fundamental experiences that reveal the Transcendent within human life. This week, you are invited to meditate on the corporal works of mercy inspired in the life and teachings of Jesus, and to commit to carry out one of these acts of mercy in your week. After that, you are encouraged to set aside some time to meditate on what you have experienced.

The Forgiveness Project, founded in 2004 by the journalist Marina Cantacuzino, collects and shares narratives from those who have experienced conflict and crime and seek to rebuild their lives without ignoring the hurt and pain that they have suffered and/or have caused. As it is stated on the website, at the heart of this project lies the belief that “restorative narratives have the power to transform lives.” These interrupt cycles of hate and violence are manifestations of human resistance to any form of dehumanization. This project is led by a secular organization and includes narratives “from all faiths and none.” Here we will encounter, for instance, the story of Eric Lomax, a prisoner of war who was tortured by the Japanese for more than three years during the construction of the Burma-Siam Railway, between 1940 and 1943. In 1945, Lomax was finally released and returned to Edinburgh, but the memories of those dehumanizing years were still haunting him and tearing him apart. More than 50 years after, he found out that his torturer, Nagase Takashi, was still alive and had gone through a process of repentance. Lomax’s wife wrote to Nagase hoping that it would help her husband to free himself from that past. The letter that Nagase wrote back marked a turning point to Lomax, the possibility “to think the unthinkable.” In 1998, Lomax and Nagase finally met in Thailand.  

Leonard Cohen, Come Healing (Old Ideas album, 2012.)

O let the heavens hear it
The penitential hymn
Come healing of the spirit
Come healing of the limb