forgiveness for poison
It’s so hard to not talk s&*t back. When someone talks behind my back and it’s brought to my attention, it takes everything in me not to lash back with the same poison they’ve puked all over me. And, what makes it even harder is that our culture calls revenge “normal.” We are justified to lash back, we are justified to get our own, we are justified to do what broken humanity does; take revenge, retaliate, handle business. This is the world’s way.
Following Jesus, though, is a different way. Jesus doesn’t lead us to revenge, he leads us to forgiveness. He doesn’t lead us to curse, he leads us to bless. The way of Jesus turns the way of the world upside down. The power dynamics of the kingdom of God reveal the brokenness of our world’s answer to the longing for power.
People spew poison at us because they are broken, they are wounded, they are hurting. Their motives don’t justify their evil, but they do reveal the heart behind their actions. We are all lost children longing for the love of our heavenly Father. Some of us discover that love as we come into a relationship with Jesus, but many reject Jesus, and thus live their lives longing.
Out of their pain, they spit toxicity our way, and, as much as we may try, we can’t control their actions. But we can control ours. Often, I loathe the fact that self-control is a fruit of the Spirit; I’d rather play the victim and blame the poison thrower for my reactions. “They made me do it!” is much easier than an act of self-sacrifice in which I choose the way of Jesus instead of vengeance. It takes a volitional act of love to forgive when we’re attacked, and that choice is truly a work of the Holy Spirit.
In the Garden of Eden, when humanity chose rebellion instead of submission, our ability to choose love effortlessly disappeared as quickly as our comfortability with nakedness. With sin came shame, and with shame came hiding. Attacking another person is an act of hiding; it’s a refusal (or in the case of trauma; possibly the inability) to deal with the pain inside the person in the mirror. It’s out of insecurity that we harm one another, it’s out of our wounding that we wound others, and it’s out of our low view of self that we treat others as we believe we deserve to be treated. If we believe we deserve rejection, then we’ll give it away freely for it’s all we know.
So how do we get it different? When someone talks s&*t, how do we respond with the opposite spirit? How do we live the better way? Ultimately, it comes down to identity and how we answer the question, “Who am I?” See, if I don’t know who I am in Jesus, if my identity is rooted in my own brokenness, then I’m forced to rely on a definition of myself that’s rooted in the ever-fickle whims of the deceiver, my own deceptive heart, and a culture that’s just as insecure as I am. If I reject Jesus’ definition of me, then I’ve relegated myself to a life of hurting others (and often unintentionally) in a doomed attempt to make myself worthy.
However, if my identity is rooted in Jesus, and if I learn to rest in the fact that I’m “in Christ,” then I’ll, by the power of the Holy Spirit, be able to walk the way of Jesus and forgive when I’m attacked. The ultimate picture of this kingdom way of living is Jesus hanging on the cross. Often, when I’ve talked with people about this, a common rebuttal is that this way of life sounds like weakness. But I assure you, Jesus choosing forgiveness over the revenge that was rightfully his; this was an act of divine strength. There was nothing weak about it. Jesus chose to love his enemies, and this is the ultimate act of divine love in human form.
So the next time someone spews poison, choose the better way. And remember, they act out of their wounding. Their actions aren’t justified, but their motives are eerily familiar if we can be honest with ourselves. We know the better way, but will we live it
?