A better man than I

A tribute to my cousin Matthew Stith (and to Christ's work).

• Matt is an intellectual genius, which my sinful heart envies. Or sinful brain. I can't figure out which ...
• He has his Ph.D. from Princeton. Oregon State also wears orange and black, but that’s as close as I get.
• I am four years older than he, but have repeatedly proven myself more foolish.
• Matt’s a dedicated Reds and Bengals fan, which proves a man’s sin has to come out somewhere. Scripture clearly implies Christians are to be Dodgers and Vikings fans, because God calls us to suffer.
• Though he could teach at many institutions of higher learning, Matt is a pastor in Podunk, North Dakota (ok, it’s West Fargo, but it’s still in the middle of frigid nowhere). His chosen service is especially noble to me, because many men in ministry are filled with the same ambition, pride, greed, and desire to control people as the Pharisees in Luke 11.

... I like to think of myself as a humble servant like Matt, but the cold, hard mirror of reality reflects that I more likely resemble today's typical "church CEOs" than I willingly admit.

• Matt's sermons last ~15-20 minutes; I've yet to preach one under 45 (which proves length doesn’t necessarily add depth).
• Matt is a teetotaler, marathon runner, and a Presbyterian. I enjoy Christian liberty, am overweight, and I haven't found my theological convictions defined by any one denomination (does that last one make you nervous?).

Matt and I were intense adversaries growing up (albeit those of junior high age). Yet now I respect him, love him, and pray for him. Because of Christ, I’m not afraid to admit that he is quite likely a more pious Christian and biblical scholar with a superior mind, and humbler heart. Well, such admissions do sting a bit, but the bruising of flesh is a good thing. We should welcome it.

Why share all this publicly?

1. To honor my cousin, which I have never done prior to now.
2. To exhort and encourage you toward forgiveness and love.

My friends, the Spirit can miraculously help you love your enemies (which will technically make them your former enemies). My cousin Matt doesn't crack the top 20 of my all-time worst enemies list, but in 1983 we detested each other in a junior high sort of way. That's how our relationship stood for many years. Today he serves as an example of the reconcilation possible in Christ.

You likely have enemies in your life at this very moment. True villains. People who you recall only painfully. They may still hate you, speak badly of you, or simply pretend that you don't exist. They might be professiong Christians. All of this is deeply disturbing, but incidental. In the power of God, you can love them in spite of their hate. Scripture says we must. But it can't be done with strength of will. It's a divine work of the Spirit. How? I can't define that process like a cooking recipe. It'll come about differently for everyone. Likely even in different ways at variuos times during one person's life.

Be warned, just because God empowers it doesn't make it easy to do. Goliath may fall, but he's still terrifying until he does. True forgiveness may be one of the most difficult things in existence. Just saying a prayer for them or voicing concern to a friend of yours doesn't fully comprise forgiveness as Jesus Christ defined it. It requires action. Trees must bear fruit. Talk is cheap. Voicing concern about someone or something without making it right is hypocrisy (James 2:15-17).

Before you click to new source of Web amusement, recall someone your mind has tried to forget. Picture the loathed face of one who hurt you. They may be spitters of venom, sly deceivers, betrayers, or escapers of justice. No matter how dark their hearts, pray to Christ for their welfare.

The Savior can heal hearts (yours and theirs both). So let go of your poisonous animosity. Your enemies are simply sinners like yourself, in need of divine grace. They’re driven by hurt, insecurity, and fear just as every other human with feet on this fallen earth.

As my friends know, my speech often lacks sensitivity and graciousness. I say hard things. But I don't lie. Thus, they know that my writing this challenge means God’s taken me to the woodshed first. Those who love Molly and me (in both word and life) also know the damage we have endured recently. If we (two frail sinners) can embrace this excruciatingly difficult call of forgiveness, you can too. Unclench your fists and join us at the cross. We’ll be the ones facedown in the dirt with tears of frustration and pain smudging our cheeks … yet filled with peace, and a slowly growing smile of relief.

C’mon. Be brave. Join us in the dirt of self abandonment.

Who hates you? Are you still hating them back?
Don't just say or pray something to make you feel better.
Do something to make things right. That’s the way of Christ.
Will it be difficult? Of course.

Anything of the cross is.

Make it right.