Forgiveness or Vengeance?

[A reflection on the Gospel for the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost, September 13, 2026, which may be found at the link https://lectionary.episcopalchurch.org/lectionary-post/80?date=2026-09-13&year=Year%20A%20%2F%20II along with the rest of the readings for this Sunday.]

Our household is addicted to true crime documentaries, police procedurals, and true crime podcasts. Personally, I also have a penchant for murder mysteries in print (Dorothy L. Sayers, Agatha Christie, etc. I like Raymond Chandler too, but I prefer those on the screen in black and white with a big bowl of popcorn...to each his own...). The issue, however, with this sort of fare, is the undercurrent of revenge, retribution, and retention. Grudges carry on for generations, insults are remembered for decades, and crimes meet harsh (and sometimes swift, sometimes not so swift) punishment.

Holding on and not forgiving a slight, a wrong, an injury is not just a theme in this genre of entertainment, but as the true-crime serials illustrate, implacability is a prominent trait of our species. St. Peter, recognizing this, but also recognizing that the Lord was preaching forgiveness, sought to strike a balance between the two. In doing so, he settled on a reasonably high number to give someone not just a second chance, but up to a seventh chance. Knowing most people don't even allow for a 1.5 chance, St. Peter was likely certain that Our Lord would say that this indeed was reasonable.

Our Lord came back with a ridiculously high number. Either seventy-seven, or seventy-times-seven; either way, unless one is truly obsessive-compulsive about this, one would lose count in the low double-digits. In effect, with this hyperbole, Our Lord tells St. Peter and us in turn that He expects our forgiveness to be infinite, as the Father's forgiveness is infinite. Just as the Lamech of Genesis went overboard with his retribution (see the sermon "On Forgiving Seventy-Seven Times" (https://www.utaliistradere.com/post/on-forgiving-seventy-seven-times)), Our Lord instructed His disciples that the Father expects our forgiveness of others to go overboard.

That is a very heavy request. In many cases, our emotional investment in the situation is all-consuming; the consequences of not rendering an offender powerless can lead to greater harm to oneself or even others, but the request really does have our best interests at heart. Not forgiving means living the fault again and again. Not forgiving means giving the offender "free rent" in our lives. Not forgiving chains us to the cycle of violence. Not forgiving is surely a psychic slavery every bit as dire and constricting and suffocating as actual chattel servitude. Our Lord even compares it to debtors' prison, a horrible place where hope dies. It perpetuates harm, it keeps open sores, it rips apart scars, it prevents healing. Moreover, it comes between us and God. Anything that consumes us, that lives in our heads and hearts rent-free, takes up space where we would have a relationship with the source of light, life, and joy. I do not wish to trivialize these feelings, the injury sustained, the wreckage, but I do wish to point out how not forgiving keeps these feelings blazing, the injuries unhealed, and the wreckage still strewn about. Forgiveness is perhaps one of the most difficult things we are called to do, but also one of the most needful.

How often do we forgive? We may as well ask how often do we seek to be healed or how often do we pull ourselves back from the edge. The answer is the same: as many times as we need to. It is not a question of social etiquette but one of spiritual health and well-being. God does not want this in the way of a relationship with Him. We owe it both to God and to ourselves to learn to let go.