By: Pastor Lars Janssen
Looking at the comments on her phone, she started to cry. All she had done was post a picture of her recently blooming boulevard garden. It contained a cutesy sign with the words, “Thank you for walking beside the garden on the sidewalk.” The comments stacked up like rotting firewood: “You don’t own the world!” “What a princess.” “Someone smash that sign! (And her!)” And they kept coming.
People can be mean.
Staring at his friend, he didn’t know how to respond. His friend continued, “Well, maybe you don’t agree but I don’t think he’s worth the oxygen he breathes. He shouldn’t be leading anyone. Useless.” He struggled to understand why his generally kind friend was saying such awful things about another person.
We can be mean.
I watched his upturned face melt from excitement to tears as I interrupted him, “Stop talking. I’m busy! Don’t interrupt me with your nonsense.” He turned away as I registered what I had just done.
I can be mean.
Experiencing cruelty is an occupational hazard of being around humans. We are not generally trustworthy when it comes to being kind to each other. As Paul notes in Romans 3:10-18, none of us is righteous: we tend to use our words “to deceive,” and we’re “full of curses and bitterness.” James 3:6-7 says our words are an untameable “world of unrighteousness … set on fire by hell.”
Thank God that his “Mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:12).
At Central, we want to love as Jesus loves us. The Apostle Paul wrote, “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Corinthians 13:7). This means that we will put up with a lot and assume the best as we try to love others.
But how do we carry on loving people who prove to be untrustworthy over and over again? Do we pretend it doesn’t hurt? Do we deny its significance? Do we attempt to control their bad behaviour? No, we are called to love honestly, not superficially. So what do we do?
I found helpful biblical advice from J. Alasdair Groves in his article, Rebuilding Broken Trust (from the Journal of Biblical Counseling, 35:2, 2021:15-35).
- It hurts when people are mean and untrustworthy. We should lament this pain to God rather than pretend it doesn’t hurt. Lament is complaining to God about the brokenness in and around us, praying back his promises and character to him, and then calling on him to be who he says he is and do what he says he’ll do. Lament teaches us to trust God in the pain.
“Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us. Selah.” (Psalm 62:8)
- We shouldn’t deny how wrong it is when someone is mean or breaks our trust. We must call a sin a sin and not pretend that it didn’t happen. It can certainly be exhausting and risky to move toward an untrustworthy and unkind person in honest love, but that is exactly what Jesus does for us and enables us to do for others.
“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:32)
- We are not responsible for the choices of others—we need not control them. We are called to restoration and that is what we should pursue. We can keep on taking God at his merciful word and encouraging growth, even when it’s exhausting or seems unlikely, and even if it takes a lifetime.
“Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.” (Galatians 6:1)
Ultimately, when we want to practice a love that “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, [and] endures all things,” we must direct that love to God first. He is absolutely worthy of our trust and completely capable of changing or punishing cruel or untrustworthy people. He keeps us loving when it hurts.
People can be mean. But living with Jesus means we can trust him for the long haul with those we don’t yet trust, being “wisely aware of their weakness and hopefully rooting for their growth” (Groves, 35).
People matter to God so we should matter enough to each other to keep loving when it’s hard. No one is disposable—not you, not me, not anyone. Not even when we’re mean.
