How Many Times?
READ
Peter thought he was being remarkably generous. In a culture where the rabbinic standard suggested forgiving someone three times, Peter doubled it and added one more for good measure. "Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?"
You can almost hear the pride in his voice, can't you? He expected Jesus to be impressed.
Instead, Jesus shattered every boundary Peter thought existed: "Not seven times, but seventy-seven times." In other words, stop counting. Forgiveness in the Kingdom isn't a ledger you maintain; it's a lifestyle you embody.
Then Jesus told a story that cuts to the heart of why forgiveness is so central to the distinct life.
Let’s take a moment to read Matthew 18:21-35:
Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”
Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.
“Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. As he began the settlement, a man who owed him ten thousand bags of gold was brought to him. Since he was not able to pay, the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt.
“At this the servant fell on his knees before him. ‘Be patient with me,’ he begged, ‘and I will pay back everything.’ The servant’s master took pity on him, canceled the debt and let him go.
“But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred silver coins. He grabbed him and began to choke him. ‘Pay back what you owe me!’ he demanded.
“His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay it back.’
“But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt. When the other servants saw what had happened, they were outraged and went and told their master everything that had happened.
“Then the master called the servant in. ‘You wicked servant,’ he said, ‘I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to/ Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?’ In anger his master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed.
“This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”
REFLECT
A servant owed his master an impossible debt—millions of dollars in today's terms. He begged for mercy, and astoundingly, the master forgave the entire amount. But that same servant immediately went out and throttled a fellow servant who owed him pocket change, demanding payment and having him thrown in prison when he couldn't pay.
The point is devastating: we are the forgiven servant. Every single one of us.
The debt we owed God—our rebellion, our selfishness, our waywardness—was unpayable. We had no hope of settling accounts. And yet God, in Christ, forgave it all. Cancelled it. Absorbed the cost Himself. That's the staggering reality of the gospel.
So when someone hurts us, betrays us, disappoints us—and they will—we face a choice. We can clutch their offense tightly, keeping a detailed record of wrongs, demanding they pay for what they've done. Or we can remember the massive debt we've been forgiven and extend the same grace we've received.
This doesn't mean forgiveness is easy or instantaneous. Some wounds require time to heal. Some betrayals need boundaries to be established. Forgiveness doesn't mean pretending the hurt didn't happen or that trust is automatically restored. But it does mean releasing the person from the debt they owe you. It means refusing to let bitterness take root. It means choosing, again and again, not to seek revenge but to entrust justice to God.
In a world that demands an eye for an eye, that celebrates "getting even," that posts grievances on social media for public validation—forgiveness is wildly countercultural. It's one of the most distinct marks of people shaped by Jesus.
And here's the beautiful, mysterious truth: when you forgive, you're the one who gets set free. Unforgiveness is a prison we build for ourselves, thinking we're locking our offender inside. Forgiveness is the key that releases us both.
RESPOND
Take a moment to process what God might be leading you to do in light of what you read.
Who comes to mind when you read about forgiveness, and what specific hurt are you still carrying that needs to be released?
How does remembering the debt God has forgiven you change your perspective on forgiving others?
What's the difference between forgiveness and trust, and how might understanding this distinction help you move forward in a difficult relationship?
REST
Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:
Merciful Father, I confess that forgiveness feels impossible on my own. The hurt is real, and part of me wants to hold onto it. But I remember the staggering debt You forgave me—a debt I could never repay. Help me extend that same grace to those who have wounded me. Give me the strength to release them from what they owe me and the wisdom to establish healthy boundaries. Free me from the prison of bitterness and transform my heart to look more like Yours. Amen.