Seventy Times Seven: Radical Mercy in a World Quick to Condemn
Reflections on this week’s Lectionary reading — Friday, September 11, 2026
This week in the Lectionary, Peter comes to Jesus asking what feels like a generous question: “Lord, if my brother keeps on sinning against me, how many times do I have to forgive him? Seven times?”
Jesus doesn’t let him off with an easy formula. “Not seven times,” Jesus answers, “but seventy times seven.” He then tells the piercing parable of the unmerciful servant in Matthew 18:21–35. A king forgives an impossible, astronomical debt simply out of pity and mercy. Yet that same forgiven servant walks out, grabs a colleague by the throat over a minor debt, and casts him into prison.
“You should have had mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you.” — Matthew 18:33 (GNT)
It is a reading that confronts every single one of us, especially when the wounds we carry are real, deep, and raw.
The Heavy Weight of Ancient Hurts
Throughout this past week, I have sat with and listened to people carrying profound, agonising hurts. These aren’t light disagreements or misunderstandings from yesterday; they are deep fractures stretching back years, quietly poisoning the present, eroding peace, and holding beautiful souls captive.
When someone opens up about that kind of pain, judgment has no place in the conversation. Saying “just move on” or “just forgive” is hollow and damaging when trauma and betrayal run deep. Forgiveness isn’t about excusing harm, denying injustice, or pretending damage wasn’t done. Forgiveness is the slow, gruelling labour of unclamping our own hands from the throat of the past so we are no longer chained to the person who wounded us.
When people share those long-standing burdens with me, I don’t offer easy answers. I simply hold space, listen without condemnation, and bring that pain before God in prayer. Healing cannot be rushed, but it begins the moment we ask grace to enter where resentment has built a fortress.
When Preaching Outpaces Practice: Standing with Dean Peter Catt
The sting of Matthew 18 feels especially sharp right now as we witness what has unfolded at St John’s Cathedral in Brisbane. The news of The Very Reverend Dr Peter Catt announcing his retirement as Dean has broken hearts across the country, mine included — a decision he shared in a statement posted to the Cathedral’s Facebook page, which has since drawn an outpouring of grief and support from the community.
Nine News coverage:
For nearly two decades, Dean Peter has made St John’s a genuine sanctuary. In a church landscape that can so often feel guarded, punitive, and cold, Peter made the cathedral an island of welcome. He championed First Nations justice, embraced our LGBTIQAP+ community with open arms, stood resolutely with refugees, and offered sacramental hospitality to those walking on the margins.
The comments beneath that Facebook post say it better than I can. One member of the congregation wrote that Peter “made the cathedral an island of sanity in a crazy world — a place where everyone, anyone, could belong.” Another spoke of him as “a safe person to process with” through a difficult season of life. One parent shared that Dean Peter was the first member of clergy of any denomination to make their gay daughter feel truly welcome in church. Others called him a fierce supporter of Aboriginal ministry, and simply asked the question so many of us are asking: “Whatever happened to forgiveness?”
When a young woman reached out seeking to explore and reconnect with her faith, Peter responded with the very heart of the Gospel: pastoral care, grace, and an open door. That a television production company misled him, took advantage of good-faith ministry, and sensationalised the outcome is deeply grievous. But what breaks my heart even more is the institutional reaction.
In a week where Scripture calls the Church to relentless mercy, radical grace, and forgiveness up to seventy times seven, watching a faithful, courageous pastor fall on his sword feels like a bitter contradiction. Grace, nuance, and understanding cannot just be comfortable topics we preach from safe pulpits on Sunday morning; they are meant to be the living fabric of how the Church treats its own servants when things get messy. Peter embodied the hospitable grace of Christ. That same grace should have wrapped around him.
The diocese and the wider church community will deeply feel the loss of his leadership, but the light, courage, and dignity Peter planted in the lives of the marginalised will outlast this painful season.
A Prayer for Those Burdened by Long Hurts
Gracious and Compassionate God, You know the hidden chambers of our hearts and the quiet burdens we carry across months and years. For every brother, sister, and sibling wounded by old betrayals, broken trust, and lingering pain, we ask for your gentle touch. Deliver us from the exhaustion of carrying bitterness, yet protect us from the pressure of cheap, hurried forgiveness. Where wounds run deep, grant patience; where trust was shattered, grant discernment; and where souls feel trapped by the past, breathe Your freeing peace. Help us release the debts that hold us hostage, trusting that Your justice and healing are already at work within us. Amen.
A Prayer for Dean Peter Catt and St John’s
Lord Jesus, Good Shepherd and Refuge of the Margin-Dweller, we bring before You our friend, Dean Peter Catt, giving profound thanks for his more than twenty years of bold, compassionate, and faithful ministry. Thank You for the sanctuary he built, for every vulnerable person he welcomed, for every seeker he blessed, and for his fearless stand alongside the outcast and oppressed. We pray for Peter as he navigates this heavy, unjust moment. Comfort his spirit, uphold him in Your deep peace, and remind him that his worth and calling in Your Kingdom are unshakable. Bless the congregation of St John’s Cathedral and the wider community as they grieve this transition. May the seeds of justice, inclusion, and grace that Peter sowed continue to bloom and bear fruit, long beyond the walls of any institution. Amen.
Wishing you a pleasant weekend.
Scripture: Matthew 18:21–35, Good News Translation — read the full passage on our Bible Browser. Community reflections referenced from the St John’s Cathedral, Brisbane Facebook post. Nine News coverage is embedded above, with the related Nine News article available here.
Courtesy of Art in the Christian Tradition, Vanderbilt University Divinity Library. Original image source and reuse information: Wikimedia Commons.

