What is interesting about forgiving someone who has wronged us is that the healing appears to be primarily for us, the one wronged. Many of us will understand that the root of bitterness that grows within us, because of holding onto the wrong, makes moving forward in life difficult at best and impossible at worst. While we hold the thoughts of past wrongs and/or abuses, what we are doing, as it is said, is allowing the individual or situation to live rent-free in our head, taking up the space that love, mercy, grace, compassion, and yes, forgiveness need to live within. Bitterness and a hard heart can spin us out, taking over a person’s entire life, especially while they take up space in our heads rent-free. Christ not only died to deliver us from our sin, but He also died on our behalf to deliver us from ourselves.
Forgiveness is one of the clearest teachings Christ taught in the Bible, and it is also one of the hardest teachings to live out, because it goes directly against what my flesh wants when I’ve been wronged. When I read Scripture honestly, I see that forgiveness is not optional “extra credit” for the unusually spiritual people. It is central to what it means to live as a forgiven person.
Jesus ties forgiveness to our relationship with God in a way that should sober us. He teaches that if we refuse to forgive others, we should not pretend we’re living in the freedom of God’s forgiveness ourselves (Matt 6:14–15). He even connects unforgiveness to prayer, saying that if I am holding something against someone, I need to forgive as I stand praying (Mark 11:25). That does not mean I pretend the offense never happened. It means I stop carrying it like a weapon, and I stop feeding resentment like it’s a pet I keep alive.
When Peter asked Jesus how many times he should forgive, Jesus did not give him a neat limit. He said, in essence, “Don’t count,” and then He told the parable of the unforgiving servant (Matt 18:21–35). That parable is one of the most clarifying and confronting pictures of forgiveness in the Bible. A man is forgiven an impossible debt, then turns around and refuses mercy to someone who owes him something small. The point is not that small debts don’t hurt. The point is that I cannot receive massive mercy from God and then live as if mercy were scarce when someone sins against me. Jesus ends that parable with a warning about refusing to forgive “from the heart,” which tells us forgiveness is not merely a polite outward act; it’s an inner release that God must work into me (Matt 18:21–35).
That’s why forgiveness is so challenging. Forgiveness requires me to release a legitimate grievance. If the offense weren’t real, forgiveness wouldn’t be necessary. Forgiveness means I give up the emotional satisfaction of holding someone “in my debt.” It means I refuse to replay the injury as a way of staying morally superior. It means I stop craving the moment when the other person finally hurts the way I hurt. And when I’ve been deeply wounded, those cravings can feel like the only “justice” I’ll ever get. That is why forgiveness is hard: it feels like I’m letting the offender go free. However, in reality, I am the one set free.
The Bible helps us see what forgiveness is and what it is not. Forgiveness is not denial. It is not calling evil good. It is not automatically rebuilding trust. It is not removing boundaries. Forgiveness is me releasing personal vengeance to God and choosing mercy over revenge, even while consequences may still exist. That is why passages like “forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you” are so powerful: they ground forgiveness in what I have already received, not in what the offender deserves (Eph 4:32). Paul repeats the same truth: as Christ forgave me, I must forgive others (Col 3:13). That is the standard. Not my feelings. Not my mood. Christ.
Now, the moment we talk about forgiveness, people often feel a tension: if forgiveness is required, does that mean salvation is earned? Let me explain the thinking of seeing forgiveness tied to our salvation. This is where I must keep two categories clear in my mind. Salvation is by grace through faith, not by works, so that no one can boast (Eph 2:8–9). Yet that same passage immediately says we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ for good works that God prepared for us to walk in (Eph 2:10). So, I don’t get saved by forgiveness; as if I must forgive the one who wronged me to receive forgiveness from God the Father through Christ. I forgive because I am being saved, because grace has begun to change my heart. Forgiveness is fruit, not payment. Another way to say this is I can forgive the one who wronged me because I am forgiven. I am saved, yes, but I am saved first because God forgave me, and by that forgiveness, I am then able to forgive those who have wronged me.
Logically, this also connects to repentance. Repentance is not me trying to “buy” forgiveness with moral performance. Repentance is the turning of my heart toward God when the Holy Spirit awakens me to my sin and my need. In other words, repentance and faith are responses to grace, not wages I earn. When I hear the gospel, God works through His Word to convict, illuminate, and draw me, and I respond, really respond. I believe. I turn. I ask for mercy. That does not make me the hero of my salvation; it shows that God’s grace is alive and active in me.
And yes, I understand the deeper question many of us eventually ask: what exactly is “not of yourselves” in Ephesians 2:8? Is it salvation? Is it faith? Is it the whole package? However, someone parses the grammar, the point remains the same: I cannot boast. I was dead, and dead men do not raise themselves. If I believe, it is because God has done something in me that I could not do on my own. Yet it is still my belief. God does not believe for me, but He does awaken my heart so that I truly believe. That preserves what Scripture keeps holding together: God’s sovereignty and my real responsibility.
That brings me to the “But why?” question, the one that often sits underneath every discussion of forgiveness, salvation, and transformation. If I am not worthy, why does God bother with me? The Bible’s answer isn’t that I’m secretly more deserving than I think. The answer is that God is gracious, and His love is not drawn out by my worthiness but by His nature. God saves because He delights to show mercy. God saves because He intends to display the riches of His grace. God saves because He is creating a people for Himself, and He is glorified in taking broken rebels and making us His children. That is why forgiveness is not a side issue. Forgiveness is one of the clearest displays that grace has truly touched me.
So, what am I missing if I still struggle? In my experience, the missing piece is not more information; it’s abiding. It’s the difference between a moment of salvation and a daily life of surrender. I can know the doctrine of forgiveness and still get derailed by my flesh if I’m not staying close to Christ. That is why Scripture keeps pointing me back to an ongoing posture: presenting myself to God, renewing my mind, and refusing to let sin rule me again. When I’m living close to Christ, forgiveness becomes possible in a way that feels impossible when I’m living on my own fumes.
This is also why forgiveness is such a challenging concept for many people: it forces us to live out the gospel we say we believe. It exposes our pride. It exposes our need for control. It exposes our demand to be the judge. And it exposes whether we have truly understood what God has forgiven in us. Forgiveness is hard because wounds are real. Forgiveness is necessary because grace is real. And forgiveness is possible because Christ is real, and He does not merely command forgiveness; He supplies it as we walk with Him.
This last phrase, He supplies it as we walk with Him. While that statement is true, it is much more powerful than that because when Christ forgave us, He enabled us to forgive others. Without His first loving us, forgiving us, we could not and would not forgive others truly as He has forgiven us. For some of us, who have experienced horrible abuse at the hands of those we trust, forgiving them is a command. While we may not want to forgive them, we must remember the command is for our benefit, for our health, for our spiritual well-being; thus, we must obey the command to forgive as we have been forgiven.
If we need further proof or evidence of forgiveness modeled, look no further than when Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” Moreover, the first Martyr Stephen, seeing the heavens opened and Jesus, the Son of Man, standing at the right hand of the Father, said, “Lord, do not charge them with this sin.” Jesus, God knew the heart of man and knew that those who crucified Him did not know what they were doing on the deepest level of spirituality known to Christ. Stephen, for the first time in his life, was fully learning about true spirituality. Today, those of us who have the Holy Spirit indwelling us know true spirituality as well. May we be thankful that we have the same spiritual life that dwelt in Christ, in Stephen, and all the saints who have gone before us, who too have also learned what true forgiveness is.
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