It’s hard to love unconditionally when someone has hurt you. There is a need for boundaries, yes, but how does one not think of an individual and stop the mind from rambling as to how that person needs to change before the relationship can continue? This is the matter that has continually plagued me in the last 10 months as I navigated my healing. Because as much as I learned to not be defined by the person who had hurt me, and I learned how to set up gates to protect from future wounds, I noticed that I still had a desire for the person to change. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing to desire, especially when discussing unhealthy habits. However, I want the change completed on my time, in my way, justifying my rights. The truth is forgiveness is a repetitive cycle as it is a moment’s decision. Sometimes the pain of the past returns, and so in my lack of understanding, I find myself rehearsing the actions of the guilty party. However, in all of my wrestling, I was not prepared for the bombshell that God decided to drop on me: “Just as you want to be taken as you are, you need to take [this person] as they are.” I was being charged with being judgmental. Matthew 7’s introductory portion has been used as an excuse to stay in sin, in the name of “do not judge”. However, this is a misappropriation of the verse. There is wisdom in discerning what is godly or not. In Matthew 7, Jesus is describing a judgment as believing oneself to be better than someone else’s sin who has been found out. Seeing someone’s sin but denying or lacking the repentance of sin found in their own life. In forgiving the “guilty family member”, God further revealed that the wooden speck in someone’s eye and the plank in my own eye came from the same tree. What?! I am not like that! I am different! Or so I thought. But another whisper: Isn’t it funny how that’s the sin people stay offended? He was talking about the sin that I was hurt, but was guilty of, as well. I judged this family member as critical and judgmental. Perhaps, rightly so. I have all the evidence for it. However, God also revealed that in my pain, I too have become critical. I am quick to judge. I am also guilty of slander, because in my effort to vent and process, a secret motive for others to side with me was at play. It wasn’t just concerning this family member. I can be critical of other people, things, and ideas if not careful. I am not so different from my offender. And as guilty as they are, I too, am just as much. Becoming fixated on the sin of another, I had chosen for so many years to hold onto unforgiveness. Then, I also became that which I hated. A Pharisee. Wanting my rights (or wanting what was right) penetrated my heart, birthing an overemphasis on proving one’s goodness. If someone says something, then they better abide by it. Anything less is to reveal how not a Christian one was. Don’t misunderstand my meaning. I do not mean to give way to leniency where the Bible is direct about things. Jesus and His Word is foundational, and discipline is needed. But I have found in my own walk that I have excused my unforgiveness, justifying it, because I held my pain against the ones who exhibit themselves to be strong Christians. And yet…many would call me a strong Christian. And yet…I know in myself; I have my own blindsides. God was revealing them even in the recent weeks! And if it is possible for me to find fault in myself, and if I want mercy for my own sin, then it is possible that another Christian, too, hasn’t completed their work of salvation, and they too, need mercy. This understanding that my unforgiveness held a dirty mirror to my life came to the light when I was studying King David and the situation with Tamar, Amnon, and Absalom (reference: 2 Samuel 13-16, 18:1-18). I already knew the story line. Amnon had fallen in love (or perhaps in lust) with his half-sister, Tamar. After tricking her to feed him, he forced himself upon her and she ran for shelter with her full brother, Absalom. To say Absalom was TICKED is an understatement. Yet, in preparing for the reading, I asked God what He wanted me to get out of it. It was true that I felt a twinge of my feminism stir in reading about Tamar’s rape. Furthermore, the rage that Absalom felt was 100% justified in my mind. And I was baffled at the silence and inaction of King David (the father of the three adult children). And yet, taking a couple days in studying it, I was struck with conviction, that as much as I initially sided with Absalom, his subsequent actions stemmed from unforgiveness, and none were God-ordained in righting the wrong. He murdered his brother, attempted to take the throne from his father, and one of his last unredeemable acts included raping his father’s concubines. Perhaps his motive for justice was pure, but allowing bitterness to reign free, he eventually became guilty of the very same sin as his half-brother. Sound familiar? In holding onto offense, I became guilty of the judgmentalism I hated most. Sure, it isn’t the same as murdering anyone, starting a coup, or committing sexual assault, but too often we judge behavior, not realizing that different manifestations can be rooted to the same sinful motivation. I was as Absalom. I believed that I had to be righted. But just as Absalom, I am prone to take things into my hand, and allow offense to stir in my heart. If the one who has authority does nothing, then I will do something myself. In my case, I would write my personal history with a villain in my story. And as long as I held onto that narrative, I could do no wrong, for my motivation was to redeem the innocence stolen. But the villain, realistically, is not a villain. Like so many people, they are complex. Even more complex, considering they believe in Jesus. As much as I wish sanctification was immediate, it is not. And so, if I need time to become more like Christ, so does the family member who had a reputation of words cutting as daggers. And even if the villain was a true villain, if God’s heart is for redemption, then I cannot allow my heart to become bitter. I don’t understand why David was silent. I wonder if he was trying to give Amnon a chance to repent (as God had done when he had committed adultery and murder concerning Bathsheba). Maybe he was talking with the Levite priests and trying to gather evidence. Sadly, at that time, CSI didn’t exist, and so it may have been a case of “he said/she said”. The Bible doesn’t say if David was active or inactive. But a note in the ESV says that David didn’t punish Amnon, because he loved him, because he was David’s firstborn. Whatever the reason, Absalom had a double reason for being angry. Rightly so. And yet, why is it that Absalom’s journey ended in devastation and David is still remarked as a man after God’s own heart? I became confused reading the psalms associated with this case as David brought up his righteousness, and asked for deliverance from the enemy (i.e. Absalom; see Psalm 3 and 4 for examples). David brought on this trouble because he was silent! Furthermore, because of his sin with Bathsheba, the prophet Nathan said that trouble would come to David’s house. So, how could David speak as if he had integrity? I don’t get it fully. I won’t say that I have all the answers, especially as sensitive as an issue as the case of Tamar, the daughter of King David. However, I think the difference between Absalom and David was the manner of repentance and refraining to take things in one’s own hands. The measure of integrity isn’t being perfect and lacking sin in totality; it is identifying sin, repenting of it, and making amends. David did that; Absalom did not. David called himself righteous, not because he was a good father, but he trusted in God’s goodness to be enough where he failed. And when he failed, he was quick to admit it (see Psalm 38). When David was confronted with his sin, he repented of it, and would ask that others were spared for his wrong (see 2 Samuel 12:13-17). Absalom did not see the error of his way, even though he had an initially just motive. Nevertheless, a just motive bent on revenge will bring a demise. History has proved that leaders who were bitter turned sour on their own people. Hatred tainted their purity as just leaders. This is the danger of unforgiveness: it throws away one’s destiny. I do want to say that something had to be done with Amnon. When a wrong is done, it must be made right. But it also must be done in the right way. Absalom had a choice. In his two years of waiting for his dad to do something, maybe Absalom could have talked with his father. “Hey Dad, I know that you love Amnon. But he hurt your daughter. I believe you love her too, and you need to stand up for her. Either you or I will do something, but Amnon cannot get away with this.” Maybe there was this conversation, and David refused. That would make this all the more heartbreaking. But Absalom had a choice. Even after murdering Amnon, he could have forgiven his father. Second Samuel states that David was relieved when he heard Amnon was dead (13:38-39). Perhaps David knew he screwed up. Maybe he wanted to thank Absalom for taking action when he failed to do so. The Bible doesn’t list every conversation had, so we’ll have to wait. But Absalom had a choice to forgive or continue in his bitterness. He chose to stay in his bitterness, and it proved to be his end. What does this have to do with my family member? How am I like Absalom when his story spun out like a revenge story gone bad? If I do not take careful heed, my unforgiveness will be my demise. I must identify my own sin in judging someone as different than I, when I could be capable of the same things. I will believe myself to be without sin, and that is a VERY dangerous place to be in, concerning walking with God. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us (1 John 1:8).” I was deceived in pointing out the person’s sin, because then I was blind to my own sin (which the size of a plank will do!). I, too, am in need of repentance. And thankfully, “if anyone sins, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the world (1 John 2:1-2).” Now that I have repented, it is important to bring that message of the Gospel to others. Whether the person before me is saved or not, I am learning that knowing what I have been saved from helps me to extend the mercy that Jesus had afforded to me. When I see someone’s sin, I am learning to not take things personally, but see it as a sign that the individual doesn’t have a revelation of Christ like I do, in a specific area. I am learning to pray for that person, rather than trying to work my magic of words and manipulation in order for them to come around. It is HARD! But I am trusting that God is at work in their life, and I am inviting Him to do the work that I could never accomplish in the first place. Vengeance is His, anyways. So, why not desire for redemption? Do I really want hell for the offender, anyway? People are saved in a day, but the fruit of salvation continues to birth for a lifetime. It is a struggle to be patient; especially when some peoples’ actions and words can cause so much pain to themselves or others. But they have a choice in how they will walk with Jesus. All I can do is hope and pray for it. I do not want to be an Absalom. I have been given the gift of mercy like David, now I must share it with others. What else could I do? For what would I say to myself if I looked in the mirror?
