When someone asks me about forgiveness, love, and humility, I often sense a quiet ache beneath the words. Forgiveness is never abstract. It touches old wounds, disappointments, and moments when our pride has been bruised. We want to love, yet we also want to protect ourselves. This tension is very human—and it is exactly where God meets us.
Forgiveness is born from love because love always seeks the good of the other, even when that good feels costly. In the Gospel, Jesus shows us a love that does not wait for apology or worthiness. On the Cross, He prays for those who hurt Him, not because they deserve it, but because love overflows beyond justice. When we forgive, we are not saying that pain did not matter; we are saying that love matters more. Forgiveness is love refusing to let hatred have the final word.
Yet love alone is not enough—humility must open the door. Humility allows us to admit that we, too, are fragile and in need of mercy. It softens the voice inside us that says, “I am right, and they are wrong.” When we forgive humbly, we step down from the high ground of pride and stand alongside the sinner, remembering that we all live by grace. This is why forgiveness is so difficult: it requires us to let go of the illusion of moral superiority.
In daily life, forgiveness becomes a quiet act of trust. We trust that God sees the truth more clearly than we do, and that His justice is wiser than our resentment. Love moves our heart toward mercy; humility keeps that love gentle and honest. Together, they free us—from bitterness, from self-righteousness, and from the heavy burden of carrying old wrongs. Forgiveness does not erase memory, but it transforms it into a place where God’s healing can begin.
Reflection
Ask the Lord today for the grace to love without pride and to be humble without fear. In that sacred space, forgiveness becomes not a weakness, but a participation in God’s own merciful heart.
— Fr. John Matthew, for Christian Way
