First Reading • Sirach 27:30—28:7
Psalm • Psalm 103:1-2, 3-4, 9-10, 11-12
Second Reading • Romans 14:7-9
Gospel • Matthew 18:21-35
Our emotions are an important part of who we are. But some emotions are difficult to deal with- especially anger.
Sometimes we try to hide our anger. We say, “It doesn’t bother me,” when actually it does. But buried anger rarely disappears. It often comes out somewhere else.
A child hurt at school may come home and take it out on a brother or sister. Someone frustrated at work may become impatient with the family.
Sometimes the person who receives our anger is not even the person who caused it.
Anger itself is not necessarily sinful. When someone treats us unfairly, betrays our trust, or hurts someone we love, anger can be a natural response.
The danger comes when anger settles into resentment, bitterness, hatred, or a desire for revenge.
That is the warning of Sirach in our first reading. He asks us to consider something very challenging: How can we ask God for mercy while refusing mercy to another person?
Then Peter comes to Jesus with what probably sounded like a very generous proposal:
“Lord, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?”
Seven times sounds pretty good!
We can imagine Peter almost taking out a calculator: “All right, Lord; seven times. After that, am I finished?”
But Jesus answers, “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.”
In other words: Peter, put the calculator away. Stop counting.
Christian forgiveness cannot be reduced to mathematics because God does not calculate his mercy toward us.
Jesus then tells the story of a servant who owes his king an enormous debt. The servant begs for patience, and the king does something extraordinary: he forgives the entire debt.
But that same servant meets someone who owes him a much smaller amount and refuses to forgive him.
That is his tragedy: he received mercy, but mercy did not change his heart.
And that is the question the Gospel places before us:
Has God’s mercy changed my heart?
Every Sunday we begin Mass asking for mercy: “Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.”
In the Our Father we pray, “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
And then we receive the Eucharist – the sacrifice of Christ who gave his life for sinners.
Having received so much mercy, Jesus asks us to become people of mercy.
Of course, forgiveness is not easy.
Some wounds are very deep.
Betrayal, broken relationships, family conflicts, cruel words, injustice, and abuse cannot simply be erased by saying, “I forgive you.”
Christian forgiveness does not mean pretending that nothing happened.
It does not mean tolerating abuse or remaining in a dangerous situation.
It does not mean that justice should not be sought. And forgiveness does not automatically restore trust.
Trust may need to be rebuilt slowly, and reconciliation requires willingness from both sides.
Forgiveness means something deeper:
I refuse to let what someone did to me become the master of my heart.
I refuse to allow another person’s actions to fill the rest of my life with bitterness.
Sometimes people say, “Father, I want to forgive, but whenever I remember what happened, I still feel angry.”
That does not necessarily mean that you have failed to forgive.
Forgiveness is not always a feeling. Often it is a decision – a decision we may have to make again and again:
“Lord, I place this person into your hands. Heal what has been wounded in me. Free me from resentment and give me the grace to move forward.”
Saint Paul reminds us today, “We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves.” We belong to the Lord.
Therefore, even our wounds must eventually be placed in his hands.
Perhaps there is someone you have been carrying in your heart for a long time; a family member, a former friend, a neighbour, a co-worker, or even someone in the Church.
You may not be able to change that person.
You cannot change what happened.
But with God’s grace, you can refuse to let that hurt control the rest of your life.
Think of resentment as a heavy stone we carry around. The person who hurt us may not even know we are carrying it, but we feel its weight every day.
Jesus invites us to put that stone down.
Not because what happened did not matter.
Not because the wound was not real.
But because Christ wants us to be free.
Today, bring that person, that memory, that wound to the altar.
We come to the Eucharist because we need mercy. And having received the mercy of Christ, may we ask for the grace to become people of mercy – people who forgive, people who heal, and people who set others, and themselves, free.
