Jesus (when instructing us how to pray) does not say, "Forgive us our sins even though we refuse to forgive others."
If you can't find forgiveness in your hearts and minds, how can you say the words:
"...and forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who have sinned against us..."
Jesus places those words in our mouths deliberately. The petition He gave us assumes a heart that is already moving in the same direction as the request. When someone prays those words while nursing unforgiveness, they are essentially asking God to treat them the way they are treating others; and that is a terrifying request.
You'd better take a long hard look at the subtle mind games you're playing with yourself when you turn your religion into a sum/gain proposition. Jesus doesn’t leave any ambiguity about this. Right after the prayer He presses the point home.
"For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."
(Matthew 6:14-15)
Could it be anymore clearer?
Unforgiveness does not merely make the prayer hollow. It places the person outside the very mercy they are asking for. When a person cannot find forgiveness in their heart and mind, the words of the Lord’s Prayer become a kind of self-indictment.
Don't get this exhortation wrong, it's not like I'm saying God is listening to our every petty petition and keeping score. What I'm getting at is, that unforgiving person is taking themselves down a path that ultimately only leads to misery of their own making. Bitterness becomes a kind of spiritual self-imprisonment.
Your unforgiveness is doing damage to your soul, your home, your family, your marriage, your marriagelessness.
The parable in Matthew 18 drives this home even harder. The servant who was forgiven an unpayable debt turns around and chokes his fellow servant over a tiny amount. The king’s response is severe.
"Should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?"
The man who would not forgive is handed over to the jailers. Jesus ends with the warning that the same will be true of anyone who does not forgive "from the heart."
When I run across this unforgiving person it reveals to me that the magnitude of their own forgiven debt has not yet landed on them. The gospel has been heard, but it has not yet broken them open. And I believe one fruit of the Spirit is a broken spirit. That is the place where the Spirit must do His deepest work; not by demanding more willpower, but by taking us back to the cross until the size of our own debt silences every claim we think we have against another.
I don't think a lot of "Christian" people have ever fully come to terms with the true cost of the cross. Chronic resentment and unforgiveness cannot abide in someone who claims to have found redemption in Christ.
Why?
Because redemption is about becoming a new creation. And holding onto bitterness is strongly linked to higher rates of depression and anxiety. The ongoing sense of injustice and the mental replaying of offenses fuels a low mood, hopelessness, irritability, and a general increase in negative effects that touches everything in your life. Bitterness keeps the injury "alive." People mentally rehearse the offense, the perceived unfairness, and what they wish had been different. They are trying to exact a cost. This circular thinking prevents emotional resolution, makes the original event feel more recent than it is, and maintains high emotional charge.
And it doesn't get better with distance or time. Over time, bitterness tends to produce a more hostile interpretive lens. Ambiguous situations are more readily read as threats or slights. Trust erodes, a victim mindset can take root, and the person becomes quicker to feel irritated by ordinary frustrations. The quality of close relationships usually declines.
But that's not all...
Bitterness can lead to withdrawal, short-temperedness, or a pattern of testing others. You're setting yourself up as a judge. And of course others often pull away, which can then reinforce the bitter person’s sense of being alone or misunderstood, creating a self-reinforcing cycle of loneliness.
Chronic embitterment is associated with lower life satisfaction, reduced sense of future possibility, greater perceived stress, and a diminished capacity to enjoy the present.
In clinical practice they might diagnose this as posttraumatic embitterment disorder (PTED). Some laboratory studies show that rehearsing unforgiving thoughts produces measurable increases in cortisol, heart rate, blood pressure, skin flutter, and brow muscle tension compared with forgiving thoughts. And these conditions can put them at risk for cardiovascular and immune changes, sleep disruption, fatigue.
Clearly there's no joy in unforgiveness. And scripture speaks to this condition:
Proverbs 17:22
"A joyful heart is good medicine,
but a crushed spirit dries up the bones."
Psalm 32:3–4
"For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away
through my groaning all day long.
For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer."
David is not speaking poetically in a vague way. He is reporting what unconfessed sin and unresolved inward turmoil actually did to him.
And yes, chronic unforgiveness is sin.
David's bones wasted away, his strength dried up, the pressure was constant. That spiritual state was eating away at both his soul and body.
"my eye is wasted from grief; my soul and my body also." (Psalm 31:9–10)
David is testifying that a heart under the weight of unresolved guilt, bitterness, or a refusal to deal with what is wrong before God does not stay neatly contained in the "spiritual" category. It consumes. It dries. It wastes. Unforgiveness (and the bitterness it breeds) does not merely make the Lord’s Prayer hollow. It becomes a slow, inward decay that Scripture already named long before anyone measured cortisol or blood pressure.
But the thing David had going for him, the reason God loved him so much, was his capacity to see things God's way. When confronted, he did not harden further. He turned. He didn't avoid the pain or play it off. He faced it from God's grace and perspective.
Psalm 51 (A Contrite Sinner’s Prayer for Pardon)
"Be gracious to me, God, according to Your faithfulness; According to the greatness of Your compassion, wipe out my wrongdoings. Wash me thoroughly from my guilt
And cleanse me from my sin...Hide Your face from my sins And wipe out all my guilty deeds. Create in me a clean heart, God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me...Then I will teach wrongdoers Your ways, And sinners will be converted to You...The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; A broken and a contrite heart, God, You will not despise."
Read the whole thing, I snipped out what was for me the meat of it.
David does not ask God to help him manage his bitterness or feel better about what others did. He asks for a clean heart and a steadfast spirit; the very opposite of the clenched, judging, self-imprisoned heart. That is the only real way out.
So the question is not first, "How do I find the strength to forgive?"
The deeper question is, "Will I stop defending the bitterness and bring the whole clenched mess to God?"
Ask Him for what David asked for; a clean heart and a steadfast spirit.
Not a managed grudge. Not a polite religious tolerance. But a heart that has been washed and made new.
If you won't?
Until that happens, the words of the Lord’s Prayer will remain a terrifying request.
Bring God your dry bones.
He is still the God who asks, "Can these bones live?"
and then answers with His own breath.