I once asked a group of grade-schoolers, “What’s a grudge?” Only one hand went up, that of 8-year-old Kelly, an only child from a broken home.
“It’s when you hold all the madness inside,” she said. Kelly’s response was perfect, and for a moment I was speechless. I knew her to be a little girl who held no grudges though she probably had good reason to do so. I smiled and thanked her for such an insightful answer. I have often quoted her.
Grudges weigh us down, keep us tight-fisted and tense, turn us inside out, and make us wince when someone even lightly touches our emotions, much as we do when there is an open sore on the skin. Holding tight to grudges, we allow ourselves to be fooled into thinking we somehow control the one who harmed us by clinging to our madness and anger. Grudges are a kind of solitary, sometimes secret, revenge. But the one being harmed the most is the one who holds the grudge.
There was no bitterness in Jesus, though some people deliberately derided and ridiculed him. He held no grudges, though some people intentionally harmed him. He had no desire for vengeance, though some accused him of crimes they themselves had committed. In Jesus there was only patience for the sinner, and mercy.
In the “Mirror of Love,” St. Aelred (12th century) once wrote that the perfection of brotherly love is found in Jesus’ love for those who harmed him, particularly his forgiveness of his executioners. Aelred recalls the image of the Suffering Servant in Isaiah, which we will read on Good Friday: “Though he was harshly treated, he submitted and opened not his mouth; like a lamb led to the slaughter or a sheep before the shearers, he was silent and opened not his mouth.” (Isaiah 53:7)
With novel insight into the mercy of Jesus, Aelred writes:
“It was not enough to pray for them (his executioners): he wanted also to make excuses for them. ’Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.’ They are great sinners, yes, but they have little judgment; therefore, ’Father, forgive them.’ They are nailing me to the cross, but they do not know who it is that they are nailing to the cross: ’if they had known, they would never have crucified the Lord of glory; therefore, Father, forgive them.’
“They think I am a lawbreaker, an imposter claiming to be God, a seducer of the people. I have hidden my face from them, and they do not recognize my glory; therefore, ’Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.’”
Aelred was not implying that Jesus was ignorant of the intentions of those who harmed him, that he was naïve to the power of evil, or that we should gloss over the damage inflicted by the devil on the world around us. To the contrary, like Isaiah he presents Jesus as one who consciously, deliberately, and intentionally bore the weight of our sin and the chaos caused by Satan’s evil strategies. Jesus was fully aware of everything that brought about his suffering – more aware than any of us can be when we suffer – and breaking through the human cycle of grudge and revenge, he forgave.
When we see Jesus on the cross, the effects and ramifications of our sin are before us in stark relief – but so are the release and freedom won by his perfect love. Jesus will always be our expert advocate – “Father, forgive them” – because he bore our sin in all its ugliness and is the only one qualified to speak on our behalf. If anyone has the “right” to hold a grudge, it is Jesus. But he does not: his love burns up our sin in one everlasting sacrifice, like fire refines gold or silver by burning off the dross.
Lent is a time to let go of grudges, to forsake vengeful attitudes and words, to let out all the “madness” by forgiving those who have harmed us. It is difficult to forgive, and we might have to begin by asking God to give us the desire to forgive. Step by step he will show us the folly of our tight fists and open sores and instill in us the will to let go of anger and revenge. He will remind us to look to the cross and see how his Son wiped up the mess of our sin, carried it away on the cross, and burned it up in love.
I find it helpful to picture the rock-carrying elders who dragged the adulterous woman before Jesus to be “tried” for her sin. It was Jesus who was on trial, of course. When he invited any elder without sin to cast a stone at the woman, one by one they left him, rocks dropping to the ground. You can almost hear the thuds and see the dust swirl up as they fall.
If we find it hard to drop the stone of grudges, we can at least begin by handing them to Jesus, who will gently place them on the ground before us. Freed of the extra weight, we will be on the road to forgiveness.
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him at Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock, AR 72217.
