How hard it can be to forgive! And yet the Lord commands us to forgive. For if we don’t forgive, we won’t be forgiven. It’s clear; it’s simple; it’s uncompromising. And, yes, it can demand heroism. The parable of the wicked tenant really elaborates the words of the Our Father: “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Jesus instructs us in the parable on what true forgiveness means both for the one who forgives and for the one who is forgiven.

We see that, before anything else, the one who forgives, the master in the parable, is just. He calls his servants to account. He wants to know what their debts are. His justice also makes the punishment fit the crime for the extravagant wastefulness and thievery of the wicked servant. Ten thousand talents would be equivalent today to £200 million if the talents were of silver, or tens of billions if they were of gold. The Master is also compassionate and ready to forgive whenever a plea for mercy comes to him. He listens to the plea of the guilty servant and is moved to forgive him his entire debt. And yet, his compassion and mercy don’t annul his justice. For when he later hears that the one he had forgiven so generously did not in turn forgive his colleague, he withdraws both compassion and mercy from him and, in justice, inflicts the original punishment with even more righteous anger. God will not be mocked or taken for a fool. Mercy does not mean that injustice can have free reign, that we can do anything because God, the old softie, will forgive us. God will forgive the sincere plea for mercy, but He expects it to lead to conversion of life. Showing mercy to others, who likewise ask sincerely for it, is a central part of that.

From the perspective now of the one who has done wrong and wants forgiveness, he must first admit to that very wrong and show sincere sorrow for having done it. To run up such a huge debt, the wicked servant must have spent years at it. Whether or not he knew or cared about it at the time, he was certainly forced to face it when he was called to account. When he was, and saw the punishment due for it, he pleaded for mercy. Maybe his plea was at first sincere, but no sooner is he absolved than he reverts to type. He goes back to his old ways of injustice using violence and intimidation and using the very justice system itself to inflict on his colleague the prison sentence he had himself been spared. The 100 talents he was owed would be worth about £150 today or, at the most, £3,000.

The wicked servant shows no real remorse for stealing and wasting his master’s property. His plea for mercy was a show. In his own mind, he neither needed nor wanted mercy. Opportunist that he was, he only wanted to abuse the master’s compassion to be free to go on doing what he always did. The master’s mercy ran off him as water off a duck’s back. His heart was closed, dark and vengeful, with no pity, no compassion, no mercy.

Brothers and sisters, God’s justice, God’s law, matters. It is His gift of love to us to teach us how to live authentically, since only He knows the right way for us to live. It is God’s law, not ours to squander or throw away as we please. Anyone who goes through life violating it squanders it. Some might protest they didn’t know better, so they can’t be considered guilty. But God’s law is written on our hearts. Our conscience testifies to it and reproaches us, if we haven’t totally silenced it. Those of us who have been given the gift of faith know it even more fully in the Scriptures and in the Teaching of the Church. Whether we claim to know it or not, God will call each of us to account for how we have used all of the great gifts He has given us. Not just His law, but also His grace, His sacraments and all the rest. That’s what the particular judgment is that we will all receive immediately after death.

The wicked servant was insincere. Even more than the property, he squandered the mercy of the Master. Christ invites us to approach Him confidently to ask for mercy and compassion, but to do so sincerely and to take it truly to heart. Proof that we have taken it to heart is that we show mercy and compassion to others who ask us for them. God is always ready to forgive but we don’t have access to that forgiveness if we do not ask for it. And we will only ask for it if we admit and confess to Him the sins that we have committed. The forgiveness of sins pertains to Christ, but He has chosen to exercise it through His Body the Church, especially in the sacraments of baptism and confession. If we really want to be sure that our sins have been completely forgiven, especially any mortal sin, after receiving Baptism the Sacrament of Confession is the royal way.

Like Christ, we must always be ready to forgive if we are asked for it. In forgiving we are not condoning any injustice done to us or to others. Rather our love is extending to the other the hope and the opportunity to live a more just existence. If we are not ready to forgive, even if it takes time and courage and effort, then it means that we have not yet let the forgiveness of Christ penetrate our hearts. The sacrament of confession intends to go beyond forgiving our sins. It intends to instil in us a habit and culture of mercy and compassion, one which permeates not only our individual lives but also our relationships, our mindset and way of looking at people and situations. Married and family life in particular can benefit hugely from the practice and grace of this sacrament. It teaches us to know how to ask humbly for pardon, to say sorry, and so to give it generously to one another, to say it’s ok. It weeds out often hidden resentments and hurts which are left unspoken and which can become real sources of pain and brokenness in a household. I encourage everyone to rediscover the power and beauty of this Sacrament of the Cross, so that we can experience the freedom and joy of Divine Mercy and pray more deeply and more sincerely those words of the Our Father: “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”