A Meditation on 1 John 2:3-6

It is the most difficult and odious challenge you will ever face in life: to respond as Jesus would have responded, to someone with whom you have a conflicted relationship. Sounds simple, no?

No. It's not simple. It's practically unthinkable to anyone who is steeped in today's culture and psychology to treat someone who has hurt you in exactly the way Jesus would treat someone who hurt Him.

"Let go of people who have hurt you," scream the status updates and Pinterest sayings. "Wish them the best and move on." Or a similar one, "Sometimes you have to let people go because they are toxic to you. Let them go because they take and take and leave you empty. Let them go because in the ocean of life when all you're trying to do is stay afloat, they are the anchor that's drowning you."  And then there's the mantra that one of my coworkers, long ago, cited: "Don't get mad; just get even." This is the stuff that makes sense in today's world. It makes more sense than loving and staying connected to someone who has wronged you. Even when you have committed to following Jesus and want to become like Him, it still feels unthinkable when you consider the ramifications of walking as He walked.

"Jesus, you ask the impossible. You must have meant something else when you said 'Follow Me.' If You meant that I have to keep loving and living with the door open to this hurtful person, well... what were you thinking?  Don't I matter, in this scenario?"

Over and over I cross paths with people who have been deeply hurt by someone, and who respond in completely understandable but death-inflicting ways. It is also my own greatest challenge in life. Let’s admit the bold-faced truth: your knee-jerk response to those who marginalize or hurt you is to distance from that person, to cut them off, to nurse a grudge, to demonize them, to malign their reputation with others, to avoid anything that reminds you of them, to limit your own opportunities in the service of not crossing paths with them, to think of all the angry, snarky and pointed things you wish you could say to them about their attitude, communication patterns or behaviors; to strike back in some way that will hurt them as deeply as they hurt you. Boil that all down to this: at some level you want to kill that person.

This is not the way of Christ.

John, the one whom Jesus loved, the one who on the surface states his case so mildly and sweetly, sends this zinger our way: “The one who says, ‘I have come to know Him,’ and does not keep His commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him.” (1 John 2:4)

“Wait, wait, John! I have come to know Jesus. He is my Savior and my friend. I spend time with Him just about every day. I talk to Him often through the day. I talk about Him with children, coworkers, friends. I want to be His servant with all my heart. I am NOT a liar. I can be trusted. Truth is welcome in my life.”

“But Child, the truth is this: His command was to love one another as He loves you. Jesus never held anyone at arm’s length. Never turned and walked away from a toxic human being. Never stopped loving. Never ruminated over personal or physical hurts inflicted on Him, even when those were egregious. Never tried to get even with those who would destroy Him. He called nastiness and hypocrisy by its right name, but left the final judgment for the judgment day. This is huge: He always left the door open. He always came back for another conversation. He loved, up close and personal. He stayed available and on the lookout for a heart's leanings toward His Father, even at risk of being maligned and mistreated. Are you doing that? Are you doing it with the person who makes you the maddest, who most upsets you, who's treated you unforgivably, whose evil makes you shrink back, who festers in your consciousness?”

[In a small voice] “No.”

Friends, I just don’t find in the Bible any verses in which Jesus calls on us to be self-protective. None that say we should walk away. None that advise us as to how best to dish out consequences, natural or otherwise, to those who offend us.

He did say to be wise and serpents and harmless as doves. I suppose that we could construe that to mean that we don’t need to make ourselves someone else’s whipping post, target of self-gratification, or object of control. I'm all for removing those things which would enable bad behavior in others. But admittedly this gloss on the text is taken out of context.

“Help me out, Bible writers! There HAS to be something here that speaks up for me and how I’ve been treated, that speaks against the debilitating or demeaning messages someone has dished out on me, that calls down brimstone on those who would squash my worthy endeavors. Shouldn't I be able to insist that someone who has been blind, MUST BE MADE TO SEE? I am not ready to let go of this offense. It's not right. Where’s the justice, where's the call to accountability for those who inflict hurt, and where are the consequences of their deeds?”

Jesus didn’t give us that model. He gave us a model for calling nastiness, manipulative control and hypocrisy by their right names. But we don’t have a model for dishing out judgment, for ruining the offensive person's sense of worth, for killing someone else off, literally or figuratively. We have a model that is Love; non-maudlin, gritty, principled, illogical, every-cell-of-your-body-screams-against-it, vulnerable Love. It’s a model that not only forgives, but keeps the door open and gives someone another chance.

Argh.

I know, it’s plumb crazy.

To John the Beloved: you could not have asked of me anything more difficult than this. You could not. I think I would have to die first.

Postscript: I write from my experience and observations. Yours may be different. While I strongly [and that is not a strong enough adverb to describe how strongly] believe that Jesus is not in favor of cutting people off, I also notice that He did not move in and live with a Pharisee or anyone else who was otherwise abusive.