When Other People's Mistakes Become Our Grudges

 

One of the wisest verses in the Bible is this:

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” Ephesians 4:32 

We all know forgiveness is called for in the Christian life. So why does un-forgiveness thrive among so many of us?

I think it’s because we might not understand our hardened hearts, or that they are even hardened in the first place!

C.S. Lewis has a terrific quote:

“When a man is getting better he understands more and more clearly the evil that is still left in him. When a man is getting worse, he understands his own badness less and less. A moderately bad man knows he is not very good: a thoroughly bad man thinks he is all right. This is common sense, really. You understand sleep when you are awake, not when you are sleeping. You can see mistakes in arithmetic when your mind is working properly: while you are making them you cannot see them.” Mere Christianity

When we take offense—a reaction to someone else’s mistake—we check ourselves completely out of the equation of having to forgive (not seeing our own mistake in our arithmetic because our mind is not working properly; it’s operating under the control and passion of offense”).

Under these conditions, we will never forgive anyone for their mistake because we don’t see it as a mistake, but as an offense. And in our dysfunctional mind, offenses demand apologies, not forgiveness!

This harboring of offense leads to resentment and holding a grudge. The mind continues to not operate properly, and has now taken the mistake of the other person and turned it into an even greater mistake by ourselves. What could have been addressed or graciously overlooked now takes on a life of its own into quite evil territory—territory we would never consider ourselves to be in because of our sense of self righteousness. When we are so sure we are right, we are blinded that we could be wrong, unreasonable, petty or, alas, unforgiving. 

The second half of this entanglement is our own obliviousness to mistakes that we, ourselves, have made, that also have resulted in offense, hurt, and any number of other negative manifestations! That is the other ugly side of offense: we are so busy being offended that we forget we, too, have said dumb things, been ungrateful, forgot to be somewhere, ran late, didn’t show up at all and on and on. 

And one of the ways we can be ignorant of our own mis-steps is because the person on the receiving end showed grace instead of offense. They did not allow our mistake to turn, for them, into a grudge and a state of un-forgiveness. 

The irony with grudge-holding is that the initial mistake perpetrated will soon be outshone by the mountainous chip on one’s shoulder that takes its place, revealing the greater discrepancy in character to be that of the grudge-holder. 

It is a sign of weakness, neediness and self-involvement to only see one side of any situation: our own! To not be willing to either address something or someone, or let it go, is the pinnacle of narcissism, because it allows the narcissist ever more self-promotion.

But often, we don’t see all of this when it’s happening, just like we can’t see our error in the mathematical problem, or we don’t know we’re sleeping when we are asleep! 

The key is to jolt the mind into working properly through self-reflection founded on prayer, Scripture meditation, quietly listening to God and heeding the Spirit’s guiding feedback. 

It takes time, and may be painful, but the receiving of the truth about ourselves in the safety and love of the Lord’s arms is so much better than marching around people and circumstances wielding grudges. 

These grudges do not affirm us as we hoped they would; they only seem to pile on and separate us even more from people, often the people we love most.

And that is a mistake—not a mistake made by someone else, but a mistake made by us. And only we can own up to it in order to break the pattern, arrive at forgiveness and begin working on how to maturely navigate future exchanges and interactions with the properly functioning mind of Christ, who will generously lead us into all truth and wisdom when we ask. 

Copyright Barb Harwood

Christ Righteousness, or Fruit of Christ Righteousness?

 

How deep does our righteousness go?

Is it a “kindness” sign in our yard? Or an “everyone is welcome” mat outside our door?

And what happens when someone coming from an opposing ideological viewpoint walks past our yard, or stands on our welcome mat, are they truly viewed “kindly?” Are they sincerely and open-mindedly “welcomed?”

I often chuckle when people with the word “LOVE” on their shirt walk past me without a smile or a “hello.” It's as if the shirt has lobbed its warmth my way, so therefore the person wearing it does not have to! 

For Christians who dearly claim Christ, is our equivalent the sending of a Bible verse on a greeting card, announcing “Jesus loves you” on a bumper sticker or quoting Scripture to friends? Do these things check the righteousness box?

Superficiality thrives on the yard placards, apple laptop stickers and flags we plant, adorn and drape around ourselves. But is it only skin deep? Or does it seep into our very blood vessels as it is sourced from the Spirit and pumped from our heart, to our brain, to our soul? 

Our spirit is already aware of Christ’s righteousness, because our Spirit is Christ. 

But our body, heart, thinking-mind and soul are up for grabs. 

The state of each one of those entities can ideally be led by God, but only if we make the choice for him to lead, and decide that we will, indeed, follow. 

This is not “blind submission” as many people love to characterize the Christian life. It is discernment of the Spirit in us, knowing that the primary source of “blind submission” is our very own “blind ambition” to follow our pride, which always feels so right—so righteous!

Which brings me back to my point: If we say we love and desire the righteousness of Christ, have we ever sat down to contemplate exactly what that means?

For some, it means they love his righteousness, and thus, adopt an attitude of that righteousness in themselves. They say and believe all the right things. They’ve got the righteousness of Christ clearly in their sights and feel confident in its demarcation, not only for their own life, but the lives of others—even society, otherwise known as “culture.”

What stopped me in my tracks the other day is this: Fruit. What, and where, is the fruit of all of this knowing of Christ’s righteousness?

For all the love we like to throw around on bumper stickers and yard signs, is love the sincere outcome of our mentally buying into Christ’s righteousness? 

In other words, do we stand confident in our concept of Christian righteousness while at the same time harbor unforgiveness? Is there a person against we hold a hardened heart? Does our sense of self-righteousness muddy the waters of Christ’s righteousness at those times? Do we confuse the two? 

What about political opponents: leaders, neighbors, family members, co-workers, school board members with whom we vehemently disagree? Do we talk disparagingly about them? Do we gossip? Are we sarcastic (thinking we’re witty and funny) about their “stupidity?” 

This is what I think of when I read 1 Corinthians 13:1: 

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angles, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.” 

The main component, I believe, of Christ’s righteousness is grace. Can we, do we, export grace? 

Grace does not mean we have to agree. In fact, grace shines even brighter when it occurs between folks who do not agree! 

Grace does not constantly look in the rearview mirror, harping about past wrongs and real or imagined slights. Grace gets over stuff and knows a healthy thick skin. 

Grace doesn’t take itself too seriously. That is one sure sign of grace! 

A sure sign of self-righteousness (lack of grace) is self-seriousness.

That’s because self loves to delude self away from grace. Self loves to nurse old wounds, maintain a long memory and have it all add up to superiority. And when self believes itself to be superior, Jesus is nowhere to be found. 

The righteousness of Christ, no matter how well we know it, believe it, and expect it from everyone else, amounts, really, to nothing if we don’t get, finally, to its fruit. 

We are to be “filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:11). 

Notice it does not say we are to be filled just with the righteousness. But we are to be filled with the fruit of that righteousness. 

In other words, live it out, don’t just wear it out on a t-shirt, placard, yard flag or coffee mug!

Galatians 5:22-24 sums it up nicely for us:

“But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.”

Jesus sent His spirit to us to live in us, not to be an identity but to be a life lived out under God’s great guidance. The Spirit will never let us down, as many of us who have ever ignored the Spirit’s wise counsel can attest!! 

My prayer is to not let my self-righteousness believe itself to be Christ’s righteousness, and that I eliminate mere lip service to genuine Christ righteousness through the actual living of it out—so that it buds, blooms and ultimately bears fruit!

copyright Barb Harwood

A Clear Conscience Before God

 

If my conscience is clear before God, I don’t have to ruminate as to why this event did or did not happen, this prayer was or was not answered, this person visited/called/sent a card/invited me to a social event or not, and on and on. 

If my conscience is clear before God, meaning the Holy Spirit is not convicting me on any one point of my attitude or behavior, then I can warmly and without guilt, angst or taking things personally, accept the attitudes and actions of others, knowing full well that God is in control. 

Just as my conscience is clear before God, the consciences of others may not be. How often we forget that! 

We blame or give credit to ourselves, in the mindset that we are the source or font of every happening, when in actuality, others are also part of the picture, and God is working on them, just as He works on us! 

So, if our conscience is clear, we know that whatever happens is not “our fault” or “something wrong with us” or even something we need to clean up. 

It means God is working in the world and on people and we must let Him. We must not intervene or interfere unless and until we get specific orders from the Holy Spirit within us. We continue in prayer and gratitude that “God’s got this” and we don’t have to be God or be the reason or center of the universe for all that takes place. We understand our right place with God and pray that others come to understand their right place with Him as well. 

This is the joy of walking with the Lord: the freedom to always know where we stand with Him, even if we don’t know where we stand with others. This knowing where we stand with God is the peace that goes beyond all understanding, because we  humbly forgo the attempt to control and understand all. 

copyright Barb Harwood

Where Does This Christmas Find Us?

 

Just okay, and getting by; not bad, but not really good?

Grateful and glad for the year behind and the one on the horizon?

Saying goodbye to the worst year ever?

Celebrating one of the best year’s in a long time?

In a hole that we have given up any further attempt to dig out of?

In each and every case, although we think we find ourselves in a certain place and time, there is another spot where Christmas can find us: the manger.

The manger is where it begins for us—whether we are grateful and celebratory, or very sad, or frustrated by just about everyone and everything.

Jesus arrived in innocence to vouchsafe ours. Because when all is said and done, after all that we have said and done, Jesus declares us innocent in Him. 

As innocent as a babe, lying in a manger.

If this Christmas finds you in a deep hole, regardless of its making, it is possible to climb out. 

Today. 

Right now. 

Circumstances do not have to change. People do not have to change. The world does not have to change. 

We have to change only our gaze and walk towards the manger, giving no more thought to the steps we leave behind. 

We go forward, toward the light, toward the beckoning birth of something new. Even if that something new is merely the choice to exit the hole. 

“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” Luke 2:10-11

Copyright Barb Harwood

Sharing of Our Faith, or Asking About Theirs?

 

It has occurred to me that the whole concept of “sharing your faith” or “sharing our faith” is one-sided. It comes from the place of me, not you. 

In my experience in the corporate church of evangelicalism, the drumbeat has been to “share your faith, share your faith, share your faith!” This, even when folks aren’t asking and aren’t interested!

The perspective is, we are to sit down, “come alongside of” and “share.” Which means talking about myself, my faith, my Jesus, and what he has done for me. 

This is talking at, not sharing.

I hate to say it but this approach to “making converts” is no different than an obnoxious door-to-door salesman who verbosely goes on and on as if we, the customer, are just a warm body for him to promote himself and his wares.

I don’t claim to know the motivation behind every person “sharing” their faith, but having viewed it from my own initial and immature self-perspective of what it means to “share my faith," observed others in action, and been on the receiving end of one too many monologues of so-called “gospel sharing," I know for a fact that self-promotion and spiritual pride can easily enter in. Without even noticing, we can make it only about us and not at all about Jesus or the person we are supposedly “sharing” with.

Spending time with Christ in the New Testament, as opposed to listening to our Christian pro-proselytizing cohorts, will teach something entirely different: Jesus makes it about himself only in the sense that he himself is Jesus, but conducts himself in an other-focused, other-centered question format. He asks about their faith. He plays back what he hears them saying and, because he is Jesus, even what they are thinking!

He asks them questions about themselves and their lives, and about their comprehension of important matters. He responds to their statements, their hearts, their minds. It is not a one-sided conversation. 

In this model of Christ, we find that “sharing” is not about us having a “heart for Jesus” or a “call to the lost.” It is not about us at all, which is a tough pill to swallow when we so wanted to make it about us and our faith and our Jesus! But it is about their hearts, and finding out what it is exactly that constitutes lostness for them. 

With Christ, people felt seen and heard. Perhaps that is why he was listened to by all, including his enemies, and actually heard by those who chose to follow him. Those who turned away, I surmise, did not like the conviction they felt when Christ saw and heard them. But those who were willing to bear with that conviction were able, then, to also feel the overflowing love of his forgiveness and acceptance—the love that came upon them even though Christ knew everything about them, good and bad. 

The next time a pastor, Bible study leader or anyone pushes and pressures to “share your faith,” submit to the model of Jesus instead, and make it about the person we are in a conversation with. They don’t need to hear about or be convinced of our faith, they need to be led in exploring what faith might, or could, or can mean and be, for them. 

Copyright Barb Harwood

When Nineveh is a Faith We No Longer Want

 

To each one of us, Nineveh is the place we don’t want to go (but which we know, deep down inside, is where we need to go).

Nineveh can be a metaphor for many situations.

But the context I have specifically in mind is that of someone running from a previous faith in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

In this context, Nineveh is faith that a person no longer wants to have.

For those disassociating themselves from faith, what has often happened is that, having been there once and found some truth, over time, they also experienced some untruth (otherwise understood as legalistic or poorly interpreted doctrine, manmade traditions, culture wars and Christian hypocrisy). 

What happens, however, is that instead of reflecting upon and further testing the truth of their faith, they want out. They want nothing more to do with “any” of it. And so they begin the long slog into anything but.

The tragedy is that what they take with them from the past are the untruths, latching onto them for dear life so as to attempt to disprove what actually is true, so they never have to go back.

It’s guilt by association: 

Something good (their faith in God through the Spirit of Christ) is tainted by something bad, and to “get back at” the bad, they jettison the good. They forget that the good ever existed. 

As the saying goes, they “throw the baby out with the bath water.”

Nineveh, faith, is the "place" that is shunned because the disillusioned are unable or unwilling to separate the good from the bad. 

So in order to “go” to our Nineveh, we must, finally, find a way to separate the good from the bad.

Once we do this, we can study each on its own—the good separate from the bad, and the bad, separate from the good. 

We can be honest in our estimation of how much of our Nineveh was actually bad versus how much was actually good. 

We can look at how the bad impacted the good; how, if it weren’t for the bad, the good could have flourished and been more of a benefit. We can also be realistic about the many ways we did benefit at the time, but have chosen to ignore.

We can examine why the bad existed.

We can look at how each overshadowed the other, at various times and places, and that the "bad" did not always win, and in fact the good scored some big hits!

We can ask ourselves, in a thorough and courageous personal inventory, how running from the faith we once had is working for us. 

Finally, we can listen very closely to hear if the still small voice inside us confesses that we have never really left our faith, and would so love to be able to admit it and have it back.

To return to our Nineveh is to begin again from the place of the good, with the “bad” existing solely as a sober lesson on what not to do and how not to be. The bad actors, actions, ideologies and practices of other human beings in the past and present do not decide our faith in God for us (however, running from God because of them means they still control us).

Upon our return to our faith, we can begin to build—from a place of positive progression, not negative regression—the truth into our lives, cultivating it in Godly wisdom, humility and gratitude. The bad will no longer stunt our conviction, God’s revelation or the joy Christ gives.

In going back to Nineveh, we free our souls from the captivity of the past.

Copyright Barb Harwood

Running From What We Don't Want to be True

 

Sometimes, we investigate in order to convince ourselves that we do not believe what we really believe.

That agendized investigation can go on for days, months, and years, ultimately becoming a lifestyle, worldview and identity, never finding the refutation we are looking for, but hoping beyond conviction that, in the end, we can be right—we can be right that what we truly believe deep within ourselves is wrong and untrue. 

We prioritize this need to be right against the acceptance of what is, actually, right. 

We are Jonah running away from Nineveh and falling into the mouth of futility. All to protect our ego from having to acknowledge it is not, in fact, in charge.

God, who enabled our very person to exist with free will, has planned it so that futility will spit us up, toss us onto dead-ends, and swallow us again and again until we see God's way to Nineveh, and go.  

Copyright Barb Harwood