Luke 23:34
“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”
Matthew 6:14-15
“For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”
Matthew 18:34-35
“And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him. So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses.”
Reflection
Unforgiveness is one of the subtlest prisons because it often disguises itself as justice. We feel that withholding forgiveness protects our right to be hurt, that letting go of the offense would minimize the harm done to us. But Jesus reveals a completely different perspective from the cross itself, in the moment of the greatest unjust suffering that has ever existed: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” If Jesus could speak these words while being nailed to a cross for a crime He did not commit, His example shows us that forgiveness never depends on the offense being small, but on a decision that transcends the size of the pain.
This statement of Jesus contains an important key: “they know not what they do.” Whoever has hurt us, in most cases, acted from their own darkness, their own unresolved pain, their own spiritual blindness, often under influences they didn’t even understand. This doesn’t excuse the harm caused, but it does help us see that person not merely as an offender, but as someone who was also trapped, operating from their own captivity. Seeing it this way doesn’t minimize our pain; it frees us from carrying, in addition to the original pain, the extra weight of bitterness.
Jesus was especially clear and forceful about the consequences of not forgiving: it’s not merely an optional spiritual suggestion, but a condition directly tied to our own freedom before the Father. The parable of the servant who did not forgive his debt, despite having been forgiven a much greater debt, ends with that person delivered to the tormentors—a vivid image of the inner prison in which someone who refuses to release an offense becomes trapped. Unforgiveness doesn’t punish the one who hurt us; it locks up ourselves.
Forgiving doesn’t mean denying the harm, pretending it didn’t happen, or necessarily restoring a relationship without healthy boundaries. It means releasing the right to revenge and bitterness, handing over to God the judgment that belongs only to Him, and thereby opening the door of our own prison.
Meditation for today
Is there someone I still haven’t forgiven, whose offense I continue carrying as a prison?
Can I see that person, as Jesus saw those crucifying Him, as someone who perhaps didn’t know what they were doing?
What do I need to release today—not to justify what was done to me, but to free myself?
Prayer
Father, today I choose to forgive. Just as Jesus forgave those who crucified Him, saying “forgive them, for they know not what they do,” I too choose to release the offense I have carried for so long.
Help me see the one who hurt me through Your eyes, recognizing that they were likely acting from their own darkness and captivity. I hand over to You the right to revenge and bitterness I have held onto. Break today this prison of unforgiveness, and free me to walk in the freedom that comes only from a heart that has released the offense. In the name of Jesus, amen.
Blessings beloved
Ana Mendez Ferrell