Did you notice how Ben Sirach describes wrath and anger in today’s first reading? He says they’re hateful things; yet, unfortunately the sinner hugs them tight. You know those expressions that have become part of everyday language: “l’ll get even with him,” “I’d be a fool if I let her get away with it,” “Forgive? Are you kidding me?” Wrath, anger, vengeance and vindictive spirit make it impossible to practice forgiveness. Lack of forgiveness equals lack of godliness in a person, because God is merciful and Mercy is His name (Deus misereatur).
St. Paul admonishes the Ephesians: “Do not let resentment lead you to sin. The sunset must not find you still angry. Do not give the devil his opportunity (Ephesians 4:26). Resentment is like the eye of ‘Hurricane Anger’ from where it unleashes its fury: vengeance, fiery outbursts, meltdown, anger, ranting, to name just a few. The words of today’s first reading are forceful: “He that takes vengeance will suffer vengeance from the Lord...Does he have no mercy toward another and yet pray for his own sins” (Sirach 28:1, 7). The sage Ben Sirach asks us to apply for others the alibi of ignorance in relation to offence we suffer from them: “Do not be angry with your neighbor...overlook ignorance” (Sirach 28:7). This, in fact, would benefit our emotional and spiritual well-being. That explains why we’ll need to forgive even when the other person hasn’t asked for forgiveness. Forgiveness, more often than not, benefits the one who forgives more than it does the person forgiven. Does that sound strange? Look at it this way: Lack of forgiveness harms us more than it harms anyone else. It is we who can’t sleep as we rehearse the wrong done to us. It is we who become depressed and push our blood pressure sky-high. Then, we plot evil to pay back the supposed injury—in the name of vengeance.
So, our Lord teaches Peter that rather than keep busy with the count of the offence—seven or seventy or seventy-seven or seventy times seven, we should rather make forgiveness a habit, a disposition of the will. Anyone able to repeat forgiveness seventy-seven times would have acquired a habit of forgiveness, making the individual lose count of offences. A habit, good or bad, is acquired by the constant repetition of the same act; hence, one good act does not qualify a person as virtuous, nor does one evil act make one evil. If you’re able to keep count of someone’s offence for 490 times, your heart and life must be filled with evil. In turn, by the time you have forgiven seventy times seven times, you have immersed yourself in the life of God and are one with Him whose mercy endures forever (Psalm 118). A simple way to be like God is to learn to make forgiveness a habit.
The spirit of the world is encapsulated in the vindictive servant who wouldn’t forgive a fellow servant for something meager though he has been forgiven a huge debt. The reaction of the master to his cold heart teaches us that God’s forgiveness toward us can be revoked on one and only one condition, namely, if we fail to forgive others. We agree to this bargain and put our signature to it each time we pray the Our Father: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” By logic (hypothetical syllogism) and by any sound judgment, the opposite is the same: “Do not forgive us our trespasses when (if) we do not forgive those who trespass against us.” You get it?
The excuse that he didn’t ask for forgiveness doesn’t hold water. Our motivation to forgive should stem from our own awareness of the need to be forgiven the huge debt we owe God, for which He sent His Son as expiation. We often regurgitate the hurt that others have caused us but rarely call to mind our offence against others. When we excuse ourselves with the idiom, “To err is human, but to forgive is divine,” we should remember also that, about us, “To err is human, but to persist in unforgiveness makes us diabolical.”
Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo