Cheek

There are a lot of people who have rightly-deserved harsh criticism for the Christian faith. In many instances and denominations, modern-day christians have earned their seat at the table along with Karens, virtue-signalers and * fatigue. Nobody wants to see a grown woman throwing a temper tantrum because her Lululemons didn’t fit, any more than they want to have a finger stuck in their face with a judgemental wag.

Personally, I’ve spent the last few decades walking through the halls of religiodemia and examing many different interpretations and perspectives of how the [yo]universe came into existance – as well as how we ought to live within it. In all of my musings and soul searches, I’ve never come across a more challening way to live than the words Jesus spoke.

Bless those that curse you.

Turn the other cheek.

If you have two coats, give one away.

If somebody asks you to walk one mile with them – walk two, instead.

When you do good, don’t let your left hand know what your right is doing.

The list could go on and on. Yet, He gave one final challenge before taking His last breath that has challenged me since the first time I read the words.

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Jesus wasn’t forgiving a few people who broke into His house and stole things He liked.

He wasn’t forgiving people who had rear-ended His car.

He wasn’t forgiving people who had gossiped about Him to their friends.

Jesus was asking God to forgive the people who had whipped and beaten Him to the point of being unrecognizable.

He was asking God to forgive the people who took a crown of thorns and pushed it deep into his skull.

He was asking God to forgive the people who hammered nine inch nails into His wrists and through His feet.

Here’s a snapshot at what that looks like, in case you need a visual:

If somebody had done that to me, the last thing I would want to do is ask God to forgive them because they didn’t know what they were doing. Yet, that’s exactly what Jesus uttered before He took a dying breath.

I can’t think of a more difficult challenge than to live a life modeled after those final words.

Forgive them – they don’t know what they’re doing.

In my life, I’ve had a lot of hurtful, hateful and downright violent things done to me by others. I’ve had business partners leave me holding the bag after draining the company bank account, been cheated on by unfaithful girlfriends, punched in the face, screamed at and even stabbed in the back with a metal spike by somebody in a fit of rage.

All of those things hurt and were difficult to recover from. Each instance left a scar on me that has never gone away.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never leave me.

In a world that tends to cry out for justice in the form of retaliation in equal (or greater) measure to the original offense, how than am I to live and carry on in my life when I have a storage unit full of hurtful memories and times?

“Forgive them, because they didn’t know what they were doing.”

“Pray for them, because they need it.”

“Do good things for them, because they’re worth it.”

The theme of Jesus’ words weren’t (and aren’t) just challenging; they are counter-cultural in a world that largely operates in the modality of ‘an eye for an eye’, even at the cost of everybody winding up blind when all is said and done.

There was once a man who screamed in my face that he was going to kill me.

“I’m going to f*cking kill you! I’m going to f*cking kill you!” he screamed.

It took years for me to get those words out of my head. It took years for me to be able to forgive him for the words he spoke in a fit of anger. When I finally forgave him, it wasn’t a light-hearted, flaky type of forgiveness. It was the type of forgiveness that hurt as I gave it. It felt like it cost me a chunk of my soul to forgive him and really mean it.

When I forgave him, I realized that there was a part of me that was also forgiving myself in the process, for all of the times where I’ve fallen short, failed, hurt others or spoken words that cut like a knife.

There’s a verse in the Bible that says “what man builds a tower, without first considering the cost of building it?”

There have been many cases in my life where I have made conscious efforts to follow the words and teaching of Jesus. However, this week I truly began to get an understanding for what it would cost me in order to do so.

Actually following the words and teaching of Jesus isn’t the same thing as joining a megachurch and getting a membership card to a Sunday morning country club where Starbucks is served in the air-conditioned lobby before joining the ranks of gaudily-dressed men and women wearing Prada.

Following the words of Jesus isn’t sitting down in front of a half-million dollar audio-visual system while dolled-up men and women sing on stage with a light show worthy of Motley Crue.

Following the words of Jesus is choosing to walk a harsh, desert journey with no oasis in sight and nothing but scorpions and snakes to keep you company while you cross your own personal Sahara. It’s the most difficult choice to make in this world, with many other alternatives that promise an easier and more comfortable path to God.