You Can Resign as Judge of the Universe

Whenever I talk about anger and forgiveness, I’ve learned there are three kinds of people out there struggling with what I say:

  • The first group believes they ought to forgive but can’t muster the courage to do it.
  • The second group feels they would be letting the offender off the hook if they forgave, which doesn’t seem right.
  • The third group claims to have gone through the motions of forgiveness, but memories keep coming back, leaving them to wonder if they’ve ever really forgiven at all.

It’s no wonder it’s so difficult for people to let go of their anger and forgive when the Bible talks about anger as a series of what seems like impossible commands: “Let all bitterness, anger and wrath, shouting and slander be removed from you, along with all malice. And be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving one another” (Ephesians 4:31–32).

To someone who is really angry or really hurt, obeying those commands seems not only difficult, but impossible. I mean, how do you just turn off an emotion? “Stop being bitter. Be kind and forgiving instead.” At face value, this seems about as helpful as telling me to grow a couple inches taller. It might be nice, but how in the world would I do it?

In our flesh, this kind of command truly is impossible. So if we want to develop the ability to do these things, Paul tells us in verse 24 that we must “put on the new man,” which means to live in the new reality Christ has created for us.

One of the elements of this new reality is this command: “Don’t let the sun go down on your anger” (Ephesians 4:26).

Not letting the sun go down on our anger means we don’t carry with us to bed the burden of righting all wrongs. God has promised to do that, so we can lay our heads down on our pillows at night and go to sleep.

In other words, we have to resign as Judge of the Universe.

Paul really unpacks this idea in another passage where he talks about anger:

Repay no one evil for evil. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “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.”

–Romans 12:17

You say, “Well, that sounds exactly like what I’d like to do to them!” This is a Jewish metaphor. Heaping burning coals on their heads, as Paul sees it, will do one of two things to the other person: It will either wake them up to the injustice of what they are doing to you, or it will increase God’s judgment on them for the day he brings vengeance. As they keep treating you badly after you show them kindness, God is taking notes. At the end God will say to them, “After all the kindness they showed you, this was how you treated them?” And God’s judgment will be worse on them. Your kindness will literally heap hot coals on their head.

You can live free of the burden of feeling like you have to make things right, because God promises to carry that burden.

You see, I know that for the person who has wronged me, one of two things is true: Either that person’s sins against me are going to be covered by Jesus’ death on the cross—where mine were also covered—or that person will pay for those sins eternally in hell. Either way, I can rest knowing that no one “gets away” with anything. In God’s universe, justice wins. And thank God, exacting that justice isn’t up to me.