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We have begun a new sermon series focused on the Apostle Paul's letter to the Romans, chapters 12 to 15, and we have entitled this series God's Vision for a New Humanity. This section of Romans reveals the ways in which the gospel transforms all of our relationships, not only to God but to ourselves, to one another, to our enemies, to the state, to the law, to the times in which we live, and to the weaker members among us. Today we will see how the gospel not only changes the way in which we relate to one another, but also the way in which we relate to our enemies.

The play “Black Angel” by Michael Cristofer is about a former German Nazi general named Engel. After 30 years serving a prison sentence for the war crimes he had previously committed, he is released. He then builds a cabin for himself and his wife in a small little French village not far from where his atrocities had been committed. But he doesn't even attempt to hide his identity, because he believes that he has finally paid his debt through three long decades spent in jail. He now feels that he can finally put his past and his horrendous guilt behind him in order to start a new life.

But there's a certain French journalist named Morrieu who cannot forget. His family had been massacred when Engel's army first entered their village, and so for 30 years he has been planning his revenge. If Nuremberg would not sentence Engel to death, well then he would. And so he goes to this village, and he foments anger and fear and hatred, and he instigates a mob that makes plans to come to Engel's house at night to murder Engel and his wife and burn their cabin to the ground.

But as a journalist, Morrieu has certain questions that are unanswered, and he needs to ask these questions about Engel's story. So he surprises Engel that very afternoon and confronts him, beginning to question him. After asking question after question, he probes deeper and deeper into Engel's soul, and as a result, he changes his mind. Revenge has lost its taste.

Morrieu then warns Engel about this mob that is coming to kill him that very evening. He says, "But if you come with me, I can save you." Engel pauses to consider, then after collecting himself, he responds to Morrieu by saying, "I will go with you under one condition: that you forgive me." But Morrieu says, "No. Save you, I can; forgive you, I cannot. Never, never, never." And so as a result, Engel remains and awaits his fate. The mob comes, they shoot both Engel and his wife, and they burn the cabin to the ground. 

What is it that Engel wanted so desperately that he would rather die than live without it? And what was it that Morrieu refused to grant? What was so hard to give? What is this thing we call forgiveness? 

The passage before us today in Romans 12 is all about revenge and its corollary, forgiveness. I'd like us to see what we can learn from this passage as we consider: 1) the rise of revenge, 2) the remedy for revenge, and 3) the ramifications for us.

¹⁷Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. ¹⁸If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. ¹⁹Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. ²⁰On the contrary:

“If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
    if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”

²¹Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. 

Romans 12:17-21

The Rise of Revenge

First let's consider the rise of revenge. I believe that this is especially important for us in our particular moment in time because we are experiencing a rise in what you could call an ethic of revenge. James Davison Hunter is a sociologist who teaches at the University of Virginia, and he popularized the term “culture war” in 1991 in his book “Culture War: The Struggle to Define America.” More recently, he has published “Democracy and Solidarity,” and in it he writes that healthy societies are bound together not by the coercive power of the state and its military but rather by the power of a shared culture. 

Now, America as a country has never lived up to its highest ideals. We all know that. Slavery is America's original sin. And yet despite the blind spots that many have experienced within our country over the last 250 years, we have also been able to work through our differences as a society because of our shared commitment to certain ideals like the pursuit of truth, freedom, equality, and the common good.

Remember the line from Superman? What was he committed to? “Truth, justice, and the American way.” But James Hunter would suggest that we are now experiencing what he calls “the great unraveling” as the fabric of our society literally comes undone. Because now we're living in a time where there is no longer any agreement about what is real or true or good or right. And therefore, we now consider our opponents to be living in an alternate universe, one that is completely unrecognizable to us wherever we might situate ourselves. 

You see, when people no longer feel like they can persuade the other, they give up trying. And so rather than engaging in discussion and debate, everything is reduced to a power struggle. We see this playing out everywhere. People choose their sides, and the name of the game is win at all costs, take no prisoners, and the ends justify the means. So there is no persuasion; all that's left now is a power grab. As a result, Hunter argues that though we have lost this shared culture that was committed to the pursuit of truth, justice, and freedom, there is a new common culture emerging, but this one is based on an ethic of revenge. 

The new common culture that we see across America on both the left and the right is based on a narrative of injury, victimhood, or loss. And you see how this works. If you or your group, whatever your group might be, has been wronged in some way — whether real or imagined — well then you think that you can justify anything because you're just giving the other side what they deserve. You're just pursuing justice. And so as a result of that, on both sides of the culture war, we see that people treat their adversary not as the loyal opposition but as their enemy. 

People on both sides no longer see the other side as being wrong, but as evil. And an evil enemy, we surmise, is not someone with whom we should reason. No, an evil enemy is someone who should be destroyed. And so we have created an ethic of revenge. We've created a culture of vindictiveness. And that's why what we're seeking to do in our political culture is to annihilate our enemy. This is the root of cancel culture. 

The professor Alan Jacobs has written this about our particular moment in time. He says, 

When a society rejects the Christian account of who we are, it doesn't become less moralistic, but far more so, because it retains an inchoate sense of justice, but has no means of offering and receiving forgiveness. The great moral crisis of our time is not, as many of my fellow Christians believe, sexual licentiousness, but rather vindictiveness. This is the great moral crisis of our time: vindictiveness.

The danger is that Christians also may fall prey to this same narrative of resentment and revenge. Christians may resent the fact that the Church has fallen from a place of dominance or influence within the broader society, or Christians may lament the loss of a culture that had once been suffused with Christian values, and then as a result of that sense of resentment, they seek to take the culture back. But now they're just playing by the rules of the world. “Let's take the culture back by playing the game that everybody else is playing: take no prisoners, win at all costs, winner takes all.” But this would be to succumb to an ethic of revenge, and this is not the way of Jesus. This is the way of Nietzsche.

So do you see the danger here? Christians are also at risk of embracing this ethic of revenge, which we are explicitly taught in the Scriptures to resist. In the passage that we looked at last week, Romans 12:14, Paul says, "Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them." And here he just piles the imperatives one on top of the other. Verse 17, repay no one evil for evil, but do that which is honorable in the sight of all. Verse 19, beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God. And verse 21, do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Rather than playing by the rules of the world, we're called to play by the rules of the kingdom. We're not supposed to follow the way of Nietzsche; we're supposed to follow the way of Jesus. 

The Remedy for Revenge

So what is the remedy for revenge? How do you bless instead of curse? How do you repay no one evil for evil, but rather seek to do them good? Well, the only alternative to an ethic of revenge is the distinctly Christian ethic of forgiveness. And I think that this is important not only for how we carry ourselves within our broader society, but this is essential to our most intimate and personal relationships. We should think about the altogether important call to learn how to forgive, because it's the only way that our relationships — from the most intimate to the most societal — can ever be repaired. 

But forgiveness is often misunderstood. Forgiveness does not mean denying justice, nor does it mean enabling abuse. So what does forgiveness entail? Let me break it down and offer these three simple steps. 

Condemn the Wrong

The first step to forgiveness may at first seem counterintuitive. In fact, it might seem paradoxical, because the first step to forgive is to condemn the wrong. In order to forgive, you have to name and condemn the act as wrong. Some people make the mistake of thinking that forgiving someone is the same thing as condoning their acts or their behavior. Instead of saying the words, "I forgive you," we might say, "It's okay." Well if it's okay, there would be nothing to forgive. The whole point is that it's not okay. 

By forgiving, we're not condoning. If we were to simply shrug our shoulders and accept or ignore something wrong that someone had done, that would be a case where forgiveness is immoral and unjust, because we're treating something that is truly evil as if it were good, or at the very least, indifferent. But no, if someone has hurt you, a wrong has been committed, an evil has been done, and a done deed cannot be undone. Therefore, something has happened that is inexcusable and blameworthy, and that is why it requires forgiveness. So the first step is to condemn the wrong, and therefore it takes courage to say the words, "I forgive you," because as soon as you utter those words, you are suggesting that they did something wrong, and not everyone wants to hear that.

Years ago, I was counseling a couple. They were not Christians, but they were getting ready for their wedding day, and they wanted me to counsel them as they were preparing for their life together. So we talked about the importance of forgiveness — how forgiveness is essential to maintaining and building any relationship, especially a marriage. At one point, the man said to me, "I could never, ever say those words. I could never say the words 'I forgive you' to my partner, because I just can't believe my partner could ever do anything so wrong that it would require me to say the words 'I forgive you.'" He rightly intuited that saying "I forgive you" means that at first you're condemning the act as wrong. The irony and the tragedy is that years later, his wife was unfaithful to him and had an affair, and so then suddenly for the first time, he realized he needed to be able to say those words, "I forgive you." 

So it's hard to communicate that, because it demonstrates that a wrong has been committed that is unacceptable. But this is the only way to hate the sin and yet love the sinner. We name and condemn the act as wrong in order to spare the person. Of course, this raises questions about justice, and so to be clear, I want to explicitly say that Paul's not suggesting that when we forgive, wrongdoers should not be brought to justice. Of course they should. They should be brought to justice through the legal courts, not through our own personal vendettas. 

This is what Paul will turn to next in Romans 13. He will state that part of the role of the state, the government, is to make sure that evil is punished and that wrongdoers are held responsible for their crimes, specifically through impartial judges who are not acting as private individuals but rather as representatives of the state. They're not personally involved, and that's why they can be impartial. 

So Paul, by calling us to forgive, is not denying that evildoers should be held accountable, nor is he suggesting that we should not seek legal redress if that is warranted. And he's not suggesting that you should continue to put yourself in harm's way, to continually be hurt by the same person over and over and over again. Let me just state very clearly: If you are being mistreated, if you are being abused in some way, let us know. Let the leaders of the church know, because that's why we're here. We're here to help. Forgiveness is never condoning behavior. Forgiveness condemns the act as wrong. 

The point is that in our personal relationships, we never take matters into our own hands. Why? Because that's God's prerogative, not ours. It is God's prerogative to judge, not us. And that's why Paul says, leave it to the wrath of God. God is the only one who can see the secret intentions of every human heart, and that is why he's the only one in the ultimate position to judge justly. Hebrews 4 tells us that, "For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account."

Can you imagine the perception that God has into who we really are? Can you tell the difference between your soul and your spirit? God can. He can tell the difference between your thoughts and your intentions. And before him, everyone is laid bare, and he is ultimately the one to whom we must give an account of our lives. Therefore, he's the only one who can judge justly. So we leave wrath in his hands. We leave justice up to him, which in this life he intends to carry out primarily through the apparatus of the state and the courts of law. And we can trust that even where our human courts get it wrong, God has promised to get it right. 

See, even if we can't get a fair hearing in a human court, we know that we will get a hearing in the heavenly court, because God is a God of true justice, and he has promised that one day he will put right everything that went wrong and bring about a whole world made new. So we leave vengeance in the hands of God, and we entrust ourselves to him, not seeking retaliation, but rather taking the first step toward forgiveness, which is to condemn the act. 

Cancel the Debt

Secondly, in order to forgive, we must not only condemn the act, but we must cancel the debt. You see, the moment that someone wrongs you — it could be a small, little, minor infraction, or it could be a serious offense — it creates a debt. And we instinctively know that. We feel deep within our bones that when someone hurts us, now they owe us. You see, when a debt has been created, you can't just shrug it off or ignore it. It won't just go away. You have to do something about it, and you really only have two options: You can either make the other person pay, or you can pay. 

In the case of the first, you can make the other person pay, and you could do it in small, minor ways. You could be cold and distant. You could give them the silent treatment. You could disparage them. You could sabotage their reputation. Or in more serious matters, you might seek vengeance or retaliation. You might give them a taste of their own medicine. You might dish it back out to them to try to make them feel what you have felt. 

At first, that might make you feel a little bit better. Little by little, you feel like perhaps they owe you a little bit less. But you do realize that when you retaliate, in either big ways or small, you're allowing that evil now to pass into your own heart, and now that evil's going to infect you. It could cause you to become so angry that your anger controls you. It could fill you with self-pity and a sense of victimhood. Or it could cause you to distort the way in which you see other people. It could create prejudices within your own heart, especially toward the kinds of people who are like the one that hurt you in a personal way.

So the two options are either you make the other person pay or you pay the debt yourself. But it can't just disappear. A debt of sin, like a financial debt, can't just float away into the air. No, someone has to eat it. And so when you cancel the debt by forgiving the other person, you are absorbing the debt into yourself, and that is why forgiveness is so hard. It always hurts to forgive, because rather than retaliating, you are absorbing the debt. You're absorbing the hurt into yourself, into your own heart. 

To forgive means that you're not going to hold it against the other person anymore. You're canceling the debt. You're not going to hang it over their heads. You're making a promise that you're not going to bring it up with the other person again, you're not going to bring it up with other people again, and you're not even going to bring it up with yourself again. You're not gonna dwell on it, on that injury or that hurt or that loss. 

But if you've ever been wronged, seriously wronged, then you know that it's incredibly hard to forgive. Because every time you choose not to be cold, not to criticize, not to dwell on the past, not to replay the scripts in your mind, not to cut down the other person, it hurts, because you're absorbing it yourself. It hurts to forgive, but it's the only thing that stops the cycle. That's why Leo Tolstoy said that when we forgive another person, we swallow up evil and prevent it from spreading any further. We put an end to the cycle. And that's what Paul means when he says, "Do not be overcome by evil, but rather overcome evil with good." Forgiveness is the only way to do it. 

Reconcile the Relationship (if possible)

So the three steps are: you condemn the act, and then you cancel the debt, and then thirdly, you reconcile the relationship, if possible. People typically say, "I'm not required to forgive another person unless that person repents, unless they apologize and they ask for forgiveness." But that's not actually how forgiveness works, and that's not how God forgives us. Jesus didn't wait to go to the cross until we repented. No, he went to the cross first, and he said, Father, forgive them, because they don't even know what they're doing. 

You see, forgiveness always comes first. And forgiveness not only precedes but actually enables repentance. Forgiveness is what makes true repentance possible. So Jesus forgives us as a gift, and that's how we're called to forgive as well. We offer forgiveness as a gift with no strings attached, no conditions. 

Now some people say, "How could you possibly do that? I could never forgive someone who doesn't deserve it." But that's just the point: No one deserves forgiveness. No one. Not you, not me, not any of us. Forgiveness is a gift, and that's why we have to see that forgiveness does not necessarily lead to reconciliation, but it creates the necessary possibility for it. 

It's important to see that forgiveness and reconciliation are very closely associated with one another. They're almost two sides of the same coin. But they're not the same thing, and here's why. Forgiveness only requires one; reconciliation takes two. Forgiveness only requires one person. You can offer forgiveness freely as a gift, regardless of how the other person responds, regardless of whether or not they acknowledge their fault or apologize or ask for your forgiveness. You offer it as a gift without conditions. But reconciliation takes two, because in order for that forgiveness to be complete, it has to be accepted. A relationship can't go back to the way it was unless the other person repents, unless they acknowledge their fault. And it would be very unwise to put yourself back in the exact same spot to be hurt all over again. 

So forgiveness does not guarantee reconciliation, but it creates the possibility for reconciliation, and that's what Paul means in verse 20 when he says, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” What does this expression mean? This sounds negative rather than positive, but in the context of the passage, it must be positive. As we'll see, Paul is actually quoting Proverbs 25, and the point is that by blessing your enemy rather than cursing them, by doing them good rather than evil, you may just lead your enemy to remorse.

We could think of our own expression today. Instead of heaping burning coals on someone's head, we might say lighting a fire underneath someone. By our acts of goodness, our acts of kindness, we might light a fire under someone to actually recognize what they've done wrong that might lead them to repentance and then ultimately to reconciliation. We're called to help wake people up to the reality of their sin, not through our vindictiveness, but rather through our kindness and our sacrificial love. 

So forgiveness can be offered freely, but it must be accepted in order to be complete. A person who admits no guilt can receive no forgiveness, and therefore the relationship can't be restored until the other person admits their fault, acknowledges their sin, receives the forgiveness, seeks to make amends for what they've done, and takes proactive steps to ensure that this wrong, this offense will never be committed again. And if they do, well now the relationship can be reconciled, and you can begin the process of rebuilding trust. So in order to forgive, we condemn the act, we cancel the debt, and then this creates the possibility (though not the guarantee) for reconciliation. Because forgiveness only takes one, but reconciliation takes two.

The Ramifications for Us

But what are the ramifications of all of this for us? Here we see that we, as Christians, are called to live a very different ethic. Paul doesn't just say, "Don't curse, don't do evil, don't hurt people, don't disparage them, don't disdain them," but he says to do the opposite. Bless them, do good to them, love them, respect them. Do what is honorable in the sight of all.

Our world may increasingly be known for its hate, but Christians are meant to be increasingly known for their love, and not just love for one another within the community of the church, but love for our enemies. Are we known for that? Are Christians today famous for their love for their enemy? We should be, because that's the way of Jesus rather than the way of Nietzsche. 

The question then is, how do we become people like that? It’s only if we consider Jesus. It’s only if we consider the way of Jesus and take it deep into our hearts and into our lives. Because Jesus, unlike Morrieu, the journalist in that story, was willing to not only save but also forgive. 

The whole story of the Bible is really a story of human conflict, and we see it right from the very beginning in the first human family. The first brothers are born to Adam and Eve, and what happens? Cain murders his brother Abel, and God calls Cain out. "Where's your brother?" And he obfuscates, "I don't know. Am I my brother's keeper?" Yes. We are all one another's keeper. And so God asks, "What have you done? Your brother's blood cries to me from the ground." 

So let me ask you, what did Abel's blood cry for? It cried out, "Revenge. Vengeance. Let me be avenged." But Jesus' blood cries out for something far better. When Jesus entered into this world, we did the same thing to him. We rejected him, and we killed him. But Hebrews 12:24 tells us that though Jesus also was an innocent sufferer — someone who was slain in cold blood — Jesus' blood speaks a better word than Abel's. 

Why does Jesus' blood speak a better word than Abel's? Because his death was voluntary. He voluntarily went to the cross for you and for me. He died on the cross in our place as our substitute for our sin, for our wrongdoing. And now Jesus' blood cries out: not revenge, but forgiveness; not justice, but grace; not condemnation, but acquittal; and not death, but life. 

You see, from the cross, Jesus condemns the act as wrong. Jesus didn't shrug off our sin on the cross and say our spiritual rebellion and failure is no big deal. “It's okay." No, he said, Father, forgive them because they don't know what they're doing. By condemning our spiritual rebellion and failure, he spared us. It was the only way to hate the sin but love the sinner. So there he is on the cross, and he not only condemns the act, but he cancels the debt by absorbing it into himself. Rather than dishing it back out to us in retaliation, he absorbs our offense, and the cross gives us this cosmic picture of what it means for Jesus to absorb the world's sin into himself rather than retaliating against us.

This creates the possibility, but not the guarantee, for reconciliation. Because while forgiveness is freely offered to us as a gift with no strings attached, forgiveness is incomplete until it is accepted. So have you accepted it? You have to acknowledge you need it. You need to admit your fault. You need to apologize. You need to confess. You need to receive that forgiveness, and then you need to make amends in any way you can and take proactive steps to make sure that you never repeat the same offense against God and against one another again. 

Have you done that? When you do, when you bring this gospel into your heart and your life, it will transform all of your relationships. It will not only transform the ways in which you relate to other people within the community of the church; it will also change the way in which you relate even to your enemies. Because Jesus is in the business of transforming enemies into friends, beginning with us. 

Let me pray for us.

Father God, we recognize more and more that the world around us is marked by an ethic of revenge, a spirit of vindictiveness. But Lord, we pray that you would protect us from following the ways of the world, and help us to remain committed to the ways of Jesus. We pray that we might receive the forgiveness that he freely offers, acknowledging our fault and our need for it, so that we might be reconciled first and foremost to you. And then in light of this gospel power, we pray that you would also transform our relationships to one another and even to our enemies. We can't do this on our own. We acknowledge our desperate dependence upon you, and we ask all of this in the strong and powerful name of Jesus. Amen.