PRAYING FOR VENGEANCE

Nehemiah 12:27-13:31; 1 Corinthians 11:1-16; Psalm 35:1-16; Proverbs 21:17-18

“I did them no wrong, but they laid a trap for me. I did them no wrong, but they dug a pit to catch me. So let sudden ruin come upon them! Let them be caught in the trap they set for me! Let them be destroyed in the pit they dug for me. Then I will rejoice in the Lord. I will be glad because he rescues me. With every bone in my body I will praise him: ‘Lord, who can compare with you? Who else rescues the helpless from the strong? Who else protects the helpless and poor from those who rob them?'"

“The wicked are punished in place of the godly, and traitors in place of the honest.”

One of the things I like best about the Bible is its unflinching honesty. Those who put it on a “sacred shelf” and believe that it teaches only about how life ought to be are missing a very important point. The Bible is not a how-to book; it is a true biography of the Children of God. As such, Scripture deals with the injustice, sin and corruption of life just like it addresses redemption, salvation and resurrection – as choices making up the fabric of real life by which the courses of our lives are determined. In a similar vein, every once in a while (particularly in Psalms like today’s), a blast of oh-so-human feeling shouts out so clearly it cannot be ignored. These emotional slices of real life often involve petitions for vengeance. They make us uncomfortable because they ring so true. We know they are inconsistent with the “turn the other cheek” ethic of the Christ we claim to follow. Nevertheless, the urge to repay evil with evil (even if dressed up as holy retribution) is nearly automatic.

However instinctive it may be, we need to be careful when praying for vengeance; we may well end up as victims of our own wrath. Most of us, in the darkness of our souls, know what it is to wish ill upon those who hurt us, just as did the Psalmist, King David. It may be fundamentally “un-Christian,” but it is also a very natural reaction. What we fail to understand is that, however natural our reaction may be, it is a response that can literally swallow us up and destroy us if left unchecked.

In my younger days, when it came to wounds (real or imagined), I historically had a long and unforgiving memory. I was also fairly thin skinned, which made for an even worse combination. It was not unusual for me to write off an entire relationship over just a few hurtful words. Of course, while I considered those bold enough to criticize me as spiteful or thoughtless, I viewed my usually caustic, in-kind responses as nothing more that tough truth-telling. For years, most of my relationships were extraordinarily conditional. Admission was granted only as long as criticism did not come with it. I had no interest in accountability and dealt harshly with anyone who tried to hold me to it. Beyond arrogant, I watched the body count rise around me with little regard for the consequences. I finally woke up one day to a grim picture. I was isolated in my own bitterness and had pushed away most everyone, including Christ, who could have saved me from myself. Remaining friends were few and far between. Most tellingly, my life was devoid of thoughts of charity. I do not mean charity in financial terms – though there was precious little of that, either. Tit for tat, I had gotten lost in the habit of thinking unkind thoughts about others.

There is a reason Jesus taught us not to judge, and to turn the other cheek. We cannot handle any other response. Anger soon begins to control. Bitterness poisons. Alienation overwhelms. Eventually, the same yardstick we apply to others really does get applied to us, and we do not have to wait for God’s Judgment to see this work itself out, either. There is such a thing as Hell on earth. It usually begins with isolation. Resulting resentment leads to more isolation and so forth, until we are caught in a downward spiral only the Holy Spirit can lift us out of. But over the course of years, I’ve learned some additional reasons to give up on vengeance as well.

First, I like myself better, and feel more secure about and in myself, when I have others who hold me accountable and can do so without fear of retribution. There is much we can learn from others and much strength to be gained from the support of friends. If we separate ourselves from our egos, we will see most criticism, especially from our friends, is not mean spirited. It honestly is intended to be helpful. Our rejection of it is usually more an issue of pride than inaccuracy. We need friends willing to fade the heat to show us ourselves as others see us.

Secondly, the body count caused by resentment and hypersensitive overreaction to criticism or injury is just not worth inflicting. Ultimately, if we can still be truthful with ourselves, we will see the ones hurt worst by our lashing back in anger and vengeance are us. We become the last survivors on a spiritual island of our own making. There is nothing to nourish or refresh either our hearts or our souls. The stench of abandoned, decaying relationships haunts our memories. But finally, it comes down to this for me. I simply no longer want to be guilty of wounding another precious soul. Souls are God’s creations. They are not for us to trifle with or harm. Considering that the souls I hurt the worst on earth are likely to be the first ones to greet me in heaven has done wonders for keeping my pride in check. Wonders of wonders, with pride in check, I’ve found I learn a lot more, too!

So, what’s up with David? How can any “man after God’s own heart” call down heaven’s curses on those who have injured him? I suspect the answer can be found only in the correct interpretation of the phrase “after God’s own heart.” David had his moments, to be sure, but at the end of the day, he proved himself every bit as human and fallible as any of us. His saving grace was that he continued to quest after God’s heart. He was a man almost constantly searching for God in crisis and blessing alike. And he was smart enough, when overwhelmed by the desire for revenge, to turn the matter over to God. David’s prayer may be a hard prayer for the pacifist to understand at all. But for the rest of us, laying our conflicts at the foot of the Cross is always a better decision than trying to extract an eye for an eye or a tooth for a tooth. The sight and dentition we save is usually our own!