Someone commits a few small sins against us and look out; like the graceless insurance company, the relationship gutters. We place them on our spiritual detention list for relational prosecution. We are no longer trusting, but suspecting. We are no longer caring, but gossiping. We are no longer inviting, but ignoring. We are no longer loving, but judging. And we are sinning.

Insurance companies amaze me. One little speeding ticket or a minor fender-bender, and everything changes. Your monthly payment sky-rockets. They no longer trust you. Simply for doing the human thing of making a mistake, you henceforth are placed on insurance detention. They not only record the minor mishap, but your previously good relationship with them goes sour from merely one mistake. One little blunder results in a tarnished relationship.

Too often we can be the same way in our relationships with one another. Someone commits a few small sins against us and look out; like the graceless insurance company, the relationship gutters. We place them on our spiritual detention list for relational prosecution. We are no longer trusting, but suspecting. We are no longer caring, but gossiping. We are no longer inviting, but ignoring. We are no longer loving, but judging. And we are sinning.

“Love…does not take into account a wrong suffered” (1 Cor. 13:5).

In the Greek, there is one word translated, “take into account.” It describes someone who keeps a mental record of events for the sake of some future action (Louw & Nida, 1:345). The word also was used in ancient Greek as an accounting term; the act of keeping track of debts and expenses. The idea, then, is that love does not act like a meticulous accountant who precisely records and holds onto every wrong-doing of others. Love does not cling to its hurt feelings.

Now, with things such as grievous sins and criminal acts, this can be an excruciating pain and a life-long battle. We may never forget the actual event. Things may need to be revisited to bring about criminal justice. And by God’s grace, he promises that we certainly can think rightly about him, ourselves, sins endured, and not be identified by them. But what we are looking at here pertains more to those lesser, everyday sins and offenses in the mundanity of life.

What God calls us to here are things like repenting of nursing our hurt feelings into resentment, refusing to revisit wrongs in our minds so as to prosecute others, and denying ourselves the sinister pleasure of re-narrating wrongs endured in a gossipy manner.

For us humans, this is hard. It goes against our natural, self-exalting inclinations. In some sense, it’s the American way to keep track of others’ wrongs. Millions of tabloid dollars are made in both keeping account and broadcasting (and exaggerating) the sins of others. We all have done it in one way or another. And it is a violation of love.

The Hurt-Feelings Ledger

It’s remarkable to me how good my credit card company is at remembering transactions. They forget nothing, big or small. Creditors keep such good track using things like complex super-computers recording everything. Consequently, each month (often to my dissatisfaction) every transaction is spelled out in detail for my reflection. Too often we can be like a spiritual credit card account towards others and their sins. Without having to exert effort, we keep scrupulous account of others’ wrongdoings. Including the small ones. We’re like the credit card super-computers.

Someone sins against us and it goes straight to our mental ledger. Or, they might not even sin, but, perhaps our fragile feelings were hurt, and we mark it down in the books, never to forget it. Our demeanor sometimes becomes, “I am done with them. Sure, I’ll maybe be cordial when I see them, but I will maintain that disdain for them in my heart. If they want relationship with me, they are going to have to really work their way back into my graces.” Like a creditor demanding that dues be paid, I carry around that mental ledger with me, will never forget, and I’m out to collect my dues. We act as if we are the innocent, Almighty Supreme, who gets to raise the premium on the relationship. Getting their name removed from my hurt-feelings ledger is going to take some earning on their part. Our thoughts snowball into things like, “We’ll see how good they do.” In the meantime, they are getting the cold shoulder, whether in our family, at church, work, or the neighborhood. Yes, they may be a soul made in the image of God and for whom Christ died, but they have some spiritual bills to pay because my feelings are hurt.

And undiscerning “friends” can exacerbate the problem. I might go to them to open up my hurt-feelings ledger behind closed doors. I will carefully choose the person who appears to be my friend, but who is not loving or mature enough to confront my sin. Perhaps I sanctify it by referring to them as a “good listener.” They are actually a sin-enabler. So, I will slander and gossip as I broadcast my wrongs-taken-into-account.

“Well,” we might say, “I don’t tell others about it. I just keep my hurt-feelings records to myself.” Whether we open up those records to others or ourselves, we have still violated love by keeping the record in the first place. It’s unloving, immature, and sinful. Love does not take into account a wrong suffered.

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