Forgiveness sounds like a pretty good idea until we have someone to forgive. We know we have to forgive in order to receive God's mercy, and yet when we are aggrieved, when our feelings have been hurt, when our trust has been betrayed . . . forgiveness becomes an ordeal, not unlike Azariah's furnace in today's first reading. Our attention is focused on our own suffering. Our feelings are raw. Anger wells up in our hearts and perhaps thoughts of vengeance in our minds. Forgiveness seems an unreasonable imposition. Perhaps, like Peter, we ask whether we really have to forgive all the time. Should there not be some limit? Or, realizing we have to forgive but cannot, we experience feelings of guilt and shame. We cannot forgive ourselves, precisely for not being able to forgive. It is indeed a terrible ordeal. What to do? Like, Azariah, we need to stand in the heart of the fire and begin to pray. We need to acknowledge our hurt and resentment and not repress it. For in the midst of our ordeal, as we cry out to God, we are led to remember and experience anew God's ongoing love and mercy for us. We are then saved from the fault of the unforgiving steward - who was forgetful of the king's mercy - and given the strength to forgive. Our ordeal then leads us to life. For we are led to see that we are really in the same position as our debtors, and indeed with all humanity - all are in need of God's mercy. We can then pray using the words of the responsorial psalm.