Murder is a jarring word. The very thought of it creates an anxious fear within all of us. Here in the United States, there are roughly 20,000 killings each year, or 56 each day, excluding abortion and suicide. Our cultural capacity to take human life unlawfully is staggering.
Yet, despite our tendency to speak of murder in reference to others only, Jesus pulls back the curtain on the internal attitude behind such an evil action. In order to correct the common misinterpretations of the scribes and Pharisees, our Savior insists that whoever holds anger in his heart toward a brother is already guilty of spiritual homicide in the eyes of God (Matt 5:21-22). Long before we slay another with our hands, we have already put them down in our hearts due to hidden hatred.
We should be quick to acknowledge that not all anger is evil. Sin, injustice, and abuse should enrage us. Jesus Himself turned over tables in the temple because of the transgressions He witnessed there (Matt. 21:12-13). Thus, the protective directive of Scripture is that we are to be angry and sin not (Eph. 4:26). The focus of the Sermon on the Mount is different, though. Here, Jesus emphasizes a deep bitterness and malice toward other people. Our Lord is warning us about the slow burn that fuels our refusal to speak to one another, our defense of holding grudges, and our justification for unforgiveness.
Because of the swift, often irreparable consequences of our internal hate, we should abandon our pride and seek reconciliation as quickly as possible (Matt. 5:23-26). Using a legal analogy, Jesus admonishes us to make friends quickly, before entering a courtroom and standing before a judge, effectively putting our fate in someone else’s hands (Matt. 5:25). Clearly, the implication is that Christians will one day stand before God in order to give an account for our lives (2 Cor. 5:10). Better to settle our differences now rather than forcing the Lord to confront our secret disdain of others.
Whenever we hurt others, we should acknowledge the offense and make restitution when possible (Matt. 5:23-24). If someone wrongs us, we should be quick to forgive even if consequences and boundaries must remain (Eph. 4:32). Doing so frees us from the root of bitterness (Heb. 12:15) that contradicts the grace of God in our lives (1 John 3:15).
Years ago, my paternal grandmother taught me these principles through the most powerful example of forgiveness I have ever seen. My Granny Sue was short in stature, but this little woman was a fighter all her life. She overcame breast cancer 50 years ago and ran her own business out of her home. Her greatest challenge by far, however, was the pain caused by her divorce. Due to my grandfather’s unfaithfulness, their marriage ended after 23 years. My grandmother never remarried, and though she moved on, the wound remained with her.
In 2005, decades after their separation, the cancer returned in her lungs. Soon, it became obvious that she would not overcome the disease a second time. Though I only saw her and my grandfather in the same room once growing up, I called to share the news with him and to make a bold request. I invited him to come to the hospital and ask for Granny Sue’s forgiveness.
Admittedly, it shocked me when he agreed to do so. Even more amazing, however, was how my grandmother responded. When I told her he was in the hallway, she sat up in her bed, began primping her hair, and then said with a smile, “If he is here to get me back, it’s too late for that!” I stepped out in the hall so they could visit, but unashamedly I eavesdropped every word. You could hear the pain in her voice as she asked, “Was I not a good wife? Why did you leave? How could you just walk away?”
My respect for my grandfather swelled as I heard him answer, “You did nothing wrong. I was the problem. Please forgive me.” Silence filled the room, only to be broken by the sweetest, most gracious words I have ever heard. My Granny Sue leaned forward, looking my grandfather in the eye, and said, “I forgive you. I’m glad you came.” Then, they talked, laughed, and healed. It was beautiful.
That day I learned that we are never more like Jesus than when we choose to forgive others for their transgressions against us. The deeper the wound we carry the more spectacular the grace we give. Oftentimes, giving forgiveness is just as liberating as receiving forgiveness.
So, stop making excuses. Make the phone call. Prioritize the visit. Admit your grievance. Let go of the pain. And if you receive one of those calls, choose to forgive. You won’t regret it.
Adam B. Dooley
March 4, 2026
