In everyday life, some expressions sound reasonable and rational, and we often say them without much thought. Sentences such as “I can forgive, but this one was already too much” or “There has to be a limit to forgiveness” sound human and sensible. Yet this is precisely where the problem lies. These statements contain theological assumptions that are rarely noticed but are very fundamental.
Unconsciously, such expressions place human beings as the “owners of forgiveness.” Forgiveness seems to be in human hands, so people feel entitled to decide who deserves it and how far it should extend. Before discussing forgiveness toward others, the fundamental question that must be honestly answered is: Who are human beings really before God?
The apostle Paul gives a clear answer in Romans 3:23–24. He declares that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by His grace through Christ Jesus. This statement leaves no room for exceptions. There is no spiritual hierarchy, no level of worthiness, and no privileged position. All human beings—without exception—stand in the same position: guilty and in need of grace.
In Paul’s thinking, sin is not merely a moral or legal violation. Sin is an existential failure, a condition in which human beings lose their direction, meaning, and true purpose in life. Humanity fails to become what God intended. Yet it is precisely at this point of total failure that the Gospel speaks of grace: justification given freely by God. If salvation begins with grace that cannot be bought, then forgiveness never starts with the question of who deserves it.
The problem is that the grace humans receive often does not transform their way of thinking. God’s forgiveness is received and enjoyed, but at the same time, people still want to control it—regulating its distribution, setting its limits, and deciding who is worthy or unworthy to receive it. Grace, which should free humans from the position of judge, is instead used to reinforce that position—those who have been forgiven become judges over others.
In this context, Peter’s question to Jesus becomes very relevant. He asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother? Up to seven times?” (Matt. 18:21). This question did not come from evil intent. On the contrary, it reflected high religiosity. In Jewish tradition, forgiving three times was already considered very pious. Peter raised the standard to seven times—a symbolic number representing completeness. Yet behind this good intention lay a fundamental problem: Peter still wanted to control forgiveness. He was not asking how to forgive rightly, but when his obligation would be finished.
Jesus’ answer shattered that entire line of reasoning. “Not seven times, but seventy times seven” (Matt. 18:22). Jesus was not offering a new number, but dismantling a whole way of thinking based on calculation. As long as forgiveness can be counted, it has not yet become the Gospel; it is merely moral ethics. Deliberately, Jesus overturns the world’s logic—which lives in an endless spiral of revenge—into an infinite spiral of forgiveness. The Kingdom of God does not operate with the arithmetic of sin, but with grace.
Jesus then reinforces this truth through the parable of a servant who owed a debt impossible to repay in a lifetime. The king canceled the entire debt unconditionally. Yet that servant refused to forgive a fellow servant who owed him a minimal amount. Ironically, he had just come out of the room of forgiveness, but immediately revealed the face of an executioner. The king’s anger was not primarily because of the servant’s old debt, but because forgiveness was enjoyed selfishly and not passed on to others.
At this point, the Gospel directs human beings to stop talking about others and to begin looking at themselves. Who are we that we feel entitled to decide who deserves to be forgiven and who does not? We are not the owners of forgiveness, not its managers, and not its distributors. We are the only people who live because of the forgiveness that we ourselves were never truly worthy to receive.
Forgiveness does not mean justifying evil or denying wounds. Forgiveness means returning the right to judge into God’s hands. The Gospel never asks whether others deserve to be forgiven. The Gospel asks whether we are willing to live consistently with the grace we have received.