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Most of us are better at keeping score than we probably like to admit.
We may not actually write anything down, but somewhere in the back of our minds, a surprisingly detailed record can accumulate. We remember who apologised last time. We remember who cancelled the arrangement, who forgot the birthday, who made the insensitive comment, and who promised that something would never happen again, only to do exactly the same thing six months later.
Sometimes the entries on that invisible ledger are much more serious. A betrayal that damaged a relationship. Words that cannot easily be taken back. A pattern of behaviour that has exhausted our patience. Even when we genuinely want to forgive, there can come a moment when we find ourselves thinking, Surely I have done enough now.
I suspect that is something like the question Peter asks Jesus in Matthew 18.
He approaches Jesus and says:
“Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”
I have always imagined Peter asking the question with at least a little confidence. Seven sounds reasonably generous. He is not suggesting one chance, or even two. Whatever precise standard Peter has in mind, he clearly thinks seven represents a substantial amount of forgiveness.
I suspect he even expects Jesus to be impressed.
Instead, Jesus replies:
“I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.”
Or possibly seventy times seven.
Different English translations give different numbers because the Greek can be understood in more than one way. Some Bibles say seventy-seven; others say 490. Scholars have discussed the arithmetic for centuries, which is slightly ironic because arithmetic seems to be precisely what Jesus wants Peter to stop doing.
For Jesus is not handing Peter a larger spreadsheet. Instead, he is telling him to put the calculator away.
Peter’s question assumes that forgiveness has an expiry date. Eventually, after enough offences, the obligation will surely be fulfilled. He simply wants Jesus to tell him where that boundary lies.
Jesus refuses.
There comes a point where counting forgiveness becomes absurd. If you are carefully recording offence number sixty-three so that you know exactly when you reach seventy-seven, you have almost certainly missed the point.
Jesus is describing something that cannot sensibly be measured, and there may be an even deeper reason why he chooses this particular number.



