Told vs. Taught

What We Teach When We Don’t Forgive

I once spoke with a woman whose son had walked away from church and wanted nothing to do with God. His heart had grown cold toward spiritual things, and she couldn’t understand why. She insisted that she had told him again and again that God forgives, that His mercy is available to all. But no matter how many times she said the words, they didn’t seem to reach him.

As we talked more, I learned that her son had been involved in an affair. He had made a devastating mistake and knew it. He carried guilt and shame like a heavy burden, and though his mother insisted that grace was available to him, something in her own life told a different story.

She had never forgiven her ex-husband for his affair.

Her son had watched her bitterness for years. He had seen how she recoiled at the mention of the man who hurt her. He had heard the judgment in her voice and felt the sting of her refusal to let go of the offense. And when he fell into sexual sin himself, he concluded—not from her words but from her actions—that there was no forgiveness for someone like him. If she could not forgive, surely God would not either.

It’s a sobering reminder that our theology is not only taught through sermons and devotionals. It is lived out in kitchens and car rides and tense phone calls. Our children, friends, and neighbors learn what we truly believe about God by how we live. We may say that God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in love (Psalm 103:8), but if we withhold forgiveness, we deny that truth in practice.

Forgiveness Is a Theology

Forgiveness is not simply a personal virtue—it is a reflection of the Gospel itself. At the heart of Christianity is the message that God forgives sinners through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ. The blood of Christ cleanses us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). There is no sin beyond the reach of His mercy, no failure too dark for His light.

Yet how often do we live as if some sins are unpardonable? How often do we act as though forgiveness must be earned, or that certain offenses justify a lifelong grudge?

When we harbor unforgiveness, we preach a false gospel. We may not intend to, but we communicate to others—especially those closest to us—that grace has limits. And for those already burdened by shame, that silent message can be devastating.

The Hypocrisy That Hurts

Jesus spoke directly to this issue in His parable of the unforgiving servant (Matthew 18:21–35). A man was forgiven an unpayable debt by his master, but then refused to forgive a much smaller debt owed to him by a fellow servant. When the master found out, he was furious. “Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?” he asked.

The point is clear: those who have been forgiven much must forgive others. It is not optional. In fact, Jesus says that if we do not forgive others, our own forgiveness is in question (Matthew 6:14–15). That is not to say we earn salvation through forgiveness, but rather that true salvation transforms the heart. A forgiven heart must become a forgiving heart.

When we don’t forgive, we place ourselves in opposition to the very gospel we claim to believe. We become like the servant who demands payment while ignoring his own canceled debt. And in doing so, we distort the character of God for those who are watching us.

The Subtle Discipleship of Our Lives

The woman I spoke with didn’t realize the message her life had preached. She had tried to speak words of grace to her son, but her long-standing grudge toward his father had already taught him something different. Her son, like so many others, had internalized a theology of shame. Not because anyone directly told him that sexual sin was unforgivable—but because he never saw it forgiven.

This should make us pause. What are we teaching others by how we handle the sins of those who have hurt us? Are we showing the kind of mercy we ourselves have received? Or are we subtly teaching others that some sins are too great to be redeemed?

Children especially are keen observers of our spiritual inconsistencies. They may not understand theological nuances, but they can spot hypocrisy from a mile away. When we say one thing about God’s grace but live another, the contradiction confuses them—and sometimes drives them away.

The Call to Reflect Christ

To forgive is to mirror the heart of Christ. It is to look at the one who wounded us and say, “You are not beyond the mercy of God—and neither am I.” It doesn’t mean ignoring justice or pretending the wrong never happened. It means choosing to release the offense, entrusting judgment to God, and inviting His healing into the broken places of our hearts.

Forgiveness is not weakness. It is warfare. It is a battle against bitterness, against pride, against the lie that we are better than those who have sinned against us. It is the bold declaration that the cross is enough—not just for us, but for everyone.

When we forgive, we point others to Christ. We model what it means to be set free. We demonstrate the beauty of redemption and the depth of God’s mercy. And in doing so, we open a door for others to believe that grace is real—not just in theory, but in practice.

A Better Legacy

If you’re a parent, mentor, or leader of any kind, consider the legacy your life is leaving. Are you living out the gospel you profess? Are you showing your children what forgiveness looks like, not just when it’s easy but when it costs you something?

Perhaps there’s someone in your life you need to forgive—not just for your own sake, but for the sake of those watching. Maybe your act of forgiveness will become the turning point for someone else’s faith. Maybe your surrender will open the way for someone else to come home to God.

In a world where many are disillusioned with religion and doubtful of God’s mercy, authentic forgiveness can be one of the most powerful testimonies we have. Let us not preach grace with our lips but deny it with our lives. Let us forgive, as we have been forgiven. Let us show the world that the Gospel is not only true—it is transformative.