Why Do I Want Them to Pay?

God’s question to Jonah remains with us: can we entrust judgment to Him and make room for His mercy? In Christ, we can tell the truth about what happened without making another person’s suffering the condition of our peace.

Jonah 4, the Mercy of God, and Finding Freedom from the Desire for Revenge

Rooted in Christ | Particular Struggles, Episode 3

Someone has hurt you.

Perhaps they betrayed a confidence you trusted them to keep, or said something untrue about you that other people believed. It may have been someone who held a position of authority and treated you unfairly, leaving consequences that have followed you long after the incident itself.

You've tried to move forward. You've prayed about what happened, and you may even have told the person that you forgive them.

Then one day, someone mentions their name.

You hear that they've received a promotion, enjoyed some success, or experienced something wonderful in their family. Life appears to be going well for them, while you're still living with the consequences of what they did.

And the old hurt returns.

You remember what happened and how much it cost you. As you think about how little they seem to have suffered, you may find yourself wanting them to experience something of the pain you've known.

Then another thought follows.

I'm supposed to forgive them. Why am I still feeling this way?

Now you're carrying the original injury along with disappointment in yourself for still being angry.

I want to approach that struggle with care because some people have suffered wrongs that have changed their lives. Their grief deserves to be heard, and their desire for justice may be entirely appropriate. Scripture gives us no reason to pretend that serious wrongdoing becomes insignificant because we belong to Christ.

But Scripture also cares about what happens within us after the injury.

There can come a point when our desire to see a wrong addressed begins turning into a desire to see the person responsible suffer. Their suffering starts to seem like the only outcome that could finally satisfy us.

And that is where I'd like us to spend some time together.

The book of Jonah may seem an unusual place to begin. But in its final chapter, God asks an angry prophet a question that reaches into the way we think about justice, mercy, and people whose wrongdoing we find difficult to forgive.

"Do you do well to be angry?"

As we listen to Jonah's conversation with God, we'll also consider the Savior who endured injustice, bore our sins, and now lives in His people through the Holy Spirit.

My hope is that we'll come away with a clearer understanding of how to seek justice faithfully while entrusting the desire for revenge to the Father who knows exactly what happened.

Part One: The Theological Exposition

The God Who Sees the Wrong and Still Delights in Mercy

Jonah had good reason to recognize Nineveh's wickedness

When God first called Jonah, He sent him to Nineveh, a major city of the Assyrian Empire, with a message of judgment.

Nineveh was known for wickedness. God Himself declared that its evil had come before Him, and later in the account, the king specifically called upon the people to turn away from the violence in their hands.

The Assyrians had a reputation for brutality and conquest. Their empire would eventually bring terrible suffering upon the northern kingdom of Israel.

There is an important historical distinction here. Jonah ministered during the reign of Jeroboam II, before Assyria's later conquest of Samaria. The book does not tell us that Jonah personally suffered a particular injury at Nineveh's hands, so we should be careful about assigning him a history the text doesn't provide.

Even without such an assumption, we can understand why Nineveh's wickedness was serious.

After initially fleeing from the Lord, Jonah eventually delivered God's warning. Something remarkable happened.

The people believed God.

Their king called for fasting and repentance, urging everyone to turn from evil and violence. When God saw that they had turned from their wickedness, He did not bring the destruction He had announced.

We should notice what the passage actually says. Their response involved a genuine turning away from the evil that had brought God's warning upon them, although the account doesn't tell us the lifelong spiritual condition of every inhabitant.

The king made no claim that God owed them forgiveness. He appealed to the possibility that God might show mercy.

The biblical principle is consistent with Jeremiah 18:7–10, where God explains that His announced judgment upon a nation may be withheld when that nation turns from its evil.

God's warning was real, as was the people's evil. Their repentance was real, and so was God's mercy.

That matters for everything that follows.

God's mercy never requires Him to call evil good. His compassion doesn't make repentance unnecessary, and His willingness to forgive doesn't imply that the wrongdoing was insignificant.

Jonah knew God was merciful, and that troubled him

We might expect Jonah to rejoice when an entire city responds to God's warning.

Instead, Jonah 4 opens with a remarkable statement:

"But it displeased Jonah exceedingly, and he was angry."

Jonah explains why.

He knew that God was gracious and merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and willing to relent from disaster. In fact, that was why he'd resisted going to Nineveh in the first place.

He feared that God might forgive them.

Those words about God's character come from the Lord's own revelation of Himself in Exodus 34:6–7. They were given in the setting of Israel's need for mercy following the sin of the golden calf.

Jonah belonged to a people whose continued existence depended upon the very mercy he now resented being extended to others.

I find that especially searching.

Jonah understood the doctrine of God's mercy. What troubled him was seeing that mercy reach people whose wickedness deserved judgment.

I wonder whether something similar has ever happened within us.

We may believe wholeheartedly that God forgives sinners, and we're grateful beyond words that He has forgiven us. Yet when we think about someone who has seriously harmed us, the possibility of God's mercy reaching that person can become difficult to accept.

We might sincerely want them to repent while also feeling that they ought to suffer first. Perhaps we begin imagining a consequence severe enough to convince us that justice has finally been served.

Jonah brings that struggle into the open.

God's question to Jonah

The Lord asks:

"Do you do well to be angry?"

God doesn't begin by listing everything Jonah should already know. He asks a question that invites Jonah to examine whether his anger agrees with God's character and purposes.

Instead of answering, Jonah leaves the city, builds a shelter, and waits to see what will happen.

The text doesn't explicitly tell us that he was still hoping for Nineveh's destruction, although that's a reasonable possibility given his earlier complaint.

Then God appoints a plant to grow over Jonah and provide shade.

Jonah is exceedingly glad because of it.

But the next morning, God appoints a worm that attacks the plant. It withers, a scorching wind follows, and Jonah becomes miserable under the heat.

Again, he wishes he were dead.

And when God questions him about his anger, Jonah insists that he has every right to feel that way.

The Lord then draws a remarkable comparison.

Jonah feels deeply about losing a plant he didn't create or cultivate. Yet he resents God's compassion toward a city filled with human beings.

The book ends with God asking whether He should not pity Nineveh, including its many inhabitants and even its animals.

We aren't told what Jonah said next.

That is how the Holy Spirit has given us the story. The unanswered question remains before the reader.

Jonah cared deeply about something he had lost. God was inviting him to recognize the value of lives he had ceased to regard with compassion.

And that is where this story begins speaking to our own hearts.

When someone has hurt us

Jonah's situation is different from the experience of someone who has been personally betrayed, abused, or mistreated.

He is responding to God's mercy toward a violent foreign city, rather than working through the consequences of an offense committed directly against him.

We need to preserve that distinction.

The book of Jonah doesn't instruct a wounded person to resume contact with someone unsafe, nor does it teach that every relationship must be restored or that serious wrongs should go unpunished.

But it does show us how anger can begin narrowing the way we see another person.

When someone has hurt us deeply, we naturally remember the injury and its consequences. Particular conversations may remain vivid years later. We may still be living with losses that were caused by another person's decisions.

Over time, the offender can come to occupy only one place in our thinking. We think of them almost entirely as the person responsible for our suffering.

Their wrongdoing may have been very serious, but our anger can gradually make it difficult to remember that they remain a human being before God.

Acknowledging that doesn't excuse their conduct or make them trustworthy. We may have very good reasons to keep our distance.

Still, the other person's life belongs under God's authority, including His judgment and His mercy.

That raises a difficult question.

Can I entrust this person to God's judgment without requiring their suffering to become the thing that finally satisfies me?

Justice and personal vengeance are not the same

There is nothing wrong with wanting wrongdoing to be addressed. God loves righteousness and justice.

When people lie or abuse their authority, the truth needs to be brought to light and those responsible held accountable. And when their actions have harmed others, appropriate consequences may be necessary to protect people from further wrongdoing.

Scripture gives us good reason to seek justice.

Romans 13:1–4 describes the God-given responsibility of governing authorities to restrain and punish evil. Such consequences may involve real suffering. A person may lose a position, face legal penalties, make restitution, or experience restrictions because of serious misconduct.

There is no biblical requirement that justice be painless for the person who has done wrong.

But personal vengeance involves something more.

As we think about the person who harmed us, we may begin imagining outcomes that go beyond what accountability requires.

Perhaps someone treated you unfairly at work. You have good reason to report the conduct and ask for an investigation, but you discover that you also want the person publicly humiliated.

Or perhaps someone betrayed you in a relationship. You wisely decide that trust cannot be restored, yet part of you begins hoping that their other relationships will fail.

In both situations, a legitimate concern can become entangled with a desire for retaliation.

Recognizing that mixture doesn't mean abandoning the pursuit of justice. It means being honest about what we want and allowing the Lord to address our motives while we continue doing what is right.

We can seek appropriate consequences without making another person's misery the goal.

God sees what others may never know

Romans 12:19 says:

"Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God."

Paul is reminding believers that final judgment belongs to God.

That can be difficult to receive when someone appears to have avoided the consequences of wrongdoing.

The person may have denied what happened, and others may have believed their account. You may never even have received an apology.

Perhaps the damage was never publicly acknowledged.

You may feel that if you stop pressing the matter, the truth itself will somehow disappear.

But the Father doesn't need you to keep rehearsing the injury in order to remember it.

He already knows what happened.

He knows what was said when no one else was present and understands the motives involved more completely than either you or the person who harmed you.

His knowledge doesn't depend upon anyone's willingness to admit the truth.

And His righteousness isn't threatened by the absence of immediate earthly consequences.

That doesn't mean justice will always become visible in this life. Scripture gives us no such promise.

But it does mean that the final judgment of another person's life doesn't depend upon our ability to secure the outcome.

We can speak truthfully, seek appropriate action, and entrust what remains to the Lord.

Paul himself shows us what this looks like

In 2 Timothy 4:14–15, Paul speaks about Alexander the coppersmith, who had done him great harm.

Paul says the Lord will repay him according to his deeds, and then he warns Timothy to beware of him.

I think that is an especially helpful example.

Paul clearly identifies the wrongdoing and leaves repayment with the Lord while taking steps to protect another believer.

He doesn't suggest that Alexander has become trustworthy or that Timothy should ignore the danger.

Paul's confidence in God's judgment leaves room for wise and responsible action.

That matters when Christians are told that forgiveness requires immediate restoration of trust.

Sometimes love requires boundaries. Protecting others may involve telling the truth about what happened, even when doing so is uncomfortable.

We can leave vengeance with God and still exercise discernment.

The One who suffered unjustly

First Peter 2:18–25 brings us to Jesus.

Peter is writing to believers who were suffering unjustly, including servants living under harsh masters. We need to hear that historical setting carefully. His teaching doesn't give anyone permission to mistreat others, and it shouldn't be used to prevent someone from seeking protection from abuse or danger.

Peter directs suffering believers to Christ.

He tells us that Jesus committed no sin and that no deceit was found in His mouth.

When He was reviled, He didn't revile in return. When He suffered, He didn't threaten.

Instead, He continued entrusting Himself to the One who judges justly.

Jesus knew His Father.

He knew that the injustice He suffered wasn't hidden from God. He was falsely accused, condemned, mocked, and crucified, yet He entrusted Himself to the Father's righteous judgment.

Peter then takes us beyond Christ's example.

Jesus bore our sins in His body on the tree.

His suffering accomplished our salvation.

Through His death and resurrection, sinners have been reconciled to God.

And this brings us to something essential for understanding the Christian life.

Jesus isn't simply an example standing outside our lives, asking us to imitate His restraint through greater determination.

The crucified and risen Christ is our life.

Through faith, we've been united with Him. His Spirit dwells within us, and His life is expressed through us as we depend upon Him.

So when we're tempted to retaliate, we can look to the One who entrusted Himself to the Father and recognize that He is also the One who now lives in us.

Mercy has never meant that sin doesn't matter

There is another question worth considering.

How can God show mercy to someone guilty of serious wrongdoing and remain perfectly just?

Romans 3:25–26 brings us to the cross.

God presented Jesus Christ as the atoning sacrifice for sins, demonstrating His righteousness even as He justifies those who believe.

The cross reveals how seriously God regards sin.

The Son of God bore the judgment our sins deserved, providing the righteous foundation for forgiveness.

When God forgives, He does so through the saving work of Christ.

That should shape the way we understand mercy.

We should never speak about forgiveness as though it means that the past was insignificant. The cross itself tells us otherwise.

Yet Christ has opened the way for guilty people to repent and receive forgiveness.

That includes people whose wrongdoing we find difficult to comprehend.

We aren't required to declare someone repentant when they aren't or to restore trust without good reason. But we can acknowledge that the mercy we've received in Christ is mercy God is free to extend to others through repentance and faith.

Jonah's question remains before us.

Can we rejoice when God brings a sinner to genuine repentance, even when that sinner has committed serious wrongs?

The answer may not come easily.

But the Father who has shown us mercy is able to teach us something of His own heart.

Forgiveness doesn't mean returning to danger

This is an area where I believe we need to be especially careful.

Some Christians have been told that if they truly forgive someone, they must immediately restore the relationship to what it was before.

They may feel pressured to trust a person who has repeatedly betrayed them or to remain silent about serious wrongdoing because speaking up would supposedly reveal an unforgiving heart.

I don't believe that is a responsible reading of Scripture.

Forgiveness, reconciliation, and trust are closely related, but they are not identical.

Evangelical interpreters differ somewhat in how they describe forgiveness before an offender repents. Some speak of an inward willingness to forgive and reserve full relational forgiveness for repentance. Others describe releasing personal vengeance as a form of forgiveness even before repentance occurs.

We should recognize that distinction rather than insist that every Christian uses the word in precisely the same way.

But the practical biblical responsibilities remain clear.

We are called to refuse personal revenge, seek what is right, and remain open to genuine repentance while exercising wisdom about trust and safety.

Reconciliation requires more than one person's willingness. Where trust has been seriously damaged, restoring the relationship may require honest acknowledgment, repentance, accountability, and demonstrated faithfulness over time.

Even when forgiveness has been extended, consequences may remain.

Someone who abused authority may appropriately lose that authority. A person who has repeatedly demonstrated dangerous behavior may need to be kept at a distance.

Forgiveness doesn't require returning to an unsafe situation.

God's love can be expressed through wise boundaries, and His mercy never requires us to deny the truth.

The Christ who lives in us

Romans 8 teaches that believers belong to Christ and have received His Spirit.

In Galatians 5, Paul describes the fruit of the Spirit, including love, patience, kindness, faithfulness, and self-control.

And Philippians 2 tells us that God is at work within His people both to will and to work for His good pleasure.

These passages help us understand how a different response becomes possible.

The Lord has given us His Son and His Spirit. As we depend upon Him, God works within our real willing and acting.

We remain responsible for the choices we make, but we are no longer left to draw the life required for those choices from ourselves.

We can tell the truth about what happened, establish necessary boundaries, seek justice, and refuse retaliation while trusting the Spirit to express the character of Christ through us.

Our standing before the Father is already secure in His Son.

And because we are accepted in Christ, we can be honest about what is still happening within us without fear that the discovery of resentment has placed us outside His love.

Part Two: The Living Picture

When You Become the Judge of Someone Else's Future

Imagine having witnessed a serious wrong.

You're called to testify about what happened. You know what you saw, remember what was said, and have information that may help establish the truth and protect others.

Your testimony matters.

But suppose that after giving your account, you begin believing that your responsibility includes determining the person's entire future.

You feel compelled to decide what penalty would finally be enough and to keep watching their life to see whether they've suffered sufficiently.

Every time something good happens to them, you feel that justice has somehow been denied.

You've moved beyond giving truthful testimony and begun carrying the responsibility of judging an entire life.

That's an impossible burden for a human being.

Even the best earthly courts know only part of the story. Their decisions depend upon evidence, testimony, law, and limited human judgment.

God knows the whole story.

Nothing about the wrongdoing has escaped Him, and His judgment will be perfectly righteous. He also knows when mercy is appropriate, even when we struggle to understand how it could be extended.

We can tell the truth, act responsibly, protect those who need protection, and leave final judgment with Him.

You may still need to testify or maintain a boundary. Appropriate consequences may still need to be pursued.

But you don't have to spend the rest of your life watching another person's fortunes to determine whether you can finally become settled.

The Judge is God.

And through Jesus Christ, that righteous Judge is also your Father.

Part Three: The Grace-Formed Walk

Living from Christ When the Hurt Returns

Begin by telling the Father what's actually happening

When someone has hurt you, the first faithful response may simply be to speak truthfully to God.

You can tell Him what happened and what it cost you.

You can acknowledge that you're still hurting. And if you recognize a desire for revenge, you can bring that into the light as well.

Perhaps your prayer is as plain as this:

Father, what happened was wrong, and I'm still hurting. Part of me wants this person to suffer for what they did. I recognize that wanting their pain is different from wanting justice. I confess that desire to You. Thank You that Christ has brought me near. I entrust judgment to You and depend on Your Spirit for the response that belongs to me.

There's no need to make the injury sound smaller before approaching the Father.

He knows how much it has hurt.

And He is able to lead you honestly through what you're still experiencing.

Give the grief some attention

There may be more beneath your anger than you've yet recognized.

Perhaps the person who hurt you was someone you loved and trusted. You expected the relationship to continue for years, and imagined a future in which you would share important moments together.

Now the relationship has changed, and you don't know whether it can ever be restored.

The loss may extend far beyond the particular offense.

You may be grieving the relationship you believed you had and the future you expected to share.

Psalm 55 gives us language for the pain of betrayal by someone who had been a close companion.

There's room for that kind of sorrow in the Christian life.

And there's room to receive comfort from others.

You may need a trusted believer who will listen carefully, pray with you, and help you understand what happened without rushing you toward a conclusion.

The body of Christ is one of the ways the Father cares for His children.

When the anger returns

Perhaps you've already brought the offense before God and have chosen not to retaliate.

You may even have extended forgiveness.

Then something reminds you of what happened, and the anger returns almost immediately.

That doesn't automatically mean your earlier response was insincere.

A painful memory may still hurt years later. A familiar name may bring back grief, and your body may react before you've had time to consider what you're feeling.

The return of pain doesn't, by itself, tell you what you've chosen in your heart.

What matters is how you begin responding when you become aware of it.

Are you bringing the hurt honestly before the Father and seeking the care you need? Or have you begun replaying the offense because imagining the person's suffering gives you a sense of satisfaction?

You may recognize both impulses.

And the Spirit can help you distinguish them.

You may need to return to dependence many times, but you're returning as someone who already belongs to Christ.

His Spirit remains within you.

The Father continues to receive you through His Son.

Seek justice without seeking personal revenge

There may be practical decisions you still need to make.

Perhaps you've been asked to give an account of what happened or must decide whether to report serious wrongdoing.

As you do so, you can ask the Lord to search your motives.

Are you describing the event accurately, or adding details because they make the other person appear worse? Are you seeking appropriate accountability, or has their humiliation become part of what you hope to accomplish?

The Spirit leads us in truth and love, including when difficult action is necessary.

You may need to pursue justice for a considerable time.

But your ability to live faithfully today doesn't have to depend upon seeing the other person suffer.

The Lord knows what happened, and you can entrust the outcome to Him while doing what is right.

Forgiveness and trust

If the person who harmed you eventually acknowledges the wrong and genuinely repents, that may open a path toward reconciliation.

Even then, rebuilding trust may take time.

A person who repeatedly broke confidence may need to demonstrate reliability before being trusted with sensitive information again.

Someone who abused authority may appropriately remain outside that position.

A dangerous relationship may require continuing distance.

There's no contradiction between desiring someone's repentance and taking wise steps to protect yourself or others.

God's mercy brings sin into the light, where it can be acknowledged honestly and dealt with truthfully.

What if you still want them to suffer?

This may be the most difficult part of the struggle to acknowledge.

Perhaps the necessary boundaries are already in place, the appropriate report has been made, and you've told the truth as clearly as you know how.

But inwardly, you still hope something painful happens to the person.

You may recognize that their suffering has begun to feel like the one thing that could satisfy you.

When the Spirit brings that desire into the light, you can confess it without defending it.

And you don't need to punish yourself for having discovered it.

Christ has already borne condemnation for those who belong to Him.

You can agree with God about the desire and turn from it.

Then return to the life He has placed before you.

The response may be very ordinary.

You refrain from repeating an unkind story that serves no helpful purpose. You stop rehearsing an imagined confrontation and turn your attention toward the responsibilities and relationships before you.

Or you continue maintaining a necessary boundary while refusing to use it as a means of punishment.

These are real acts of obedience.

And as you depend upon Christ, His Spirit is at work within you, producing the love and self-control that are His fruit.

The Father can be trusted with what remains unresolved

Some injuries leave consequences that remain for years.

You may never receive an apology or see the full story become publicly known.

The relationship may never return to what it was, and the earthly outcome you believe justice requires may not arrive during your lifetime.

Scripture doesn't promise that every wrong will be visibly corrected in this life.

But it does tell us that the Father knows.

Nothing escapes His notice.

And His final judgment will be righteous.

Because Christ has brought you into the Father's family, you can entrust the unresolved account to Him.

You don't have to carry the responsibility of making everything come out right.

You can take the faithful steps that belong to you and place what remains in His hands.

Where Jonah leaves us

I keep thinking about the end of Jonah.

The prophet is sitting outside Nineveh, and God has asked whether He should not show compassion to the people of that city.

The book closes before Jonah answers.

We don't know whether he eventually received the Lord's correction.

But we have been given the question.

And perhaps, as we think about those who have harmed us, we can allow the Lord to bring that question into our own hearts.

Can we recognize that God is righteous in His judgment and free to show mercy?

Can we desire genuine repentance for someone whose wrongdoing we've rightly condemned?

Can we seek justice while surrendering the desire to take personal revenge?

And can we acknowledge that the injury still hurts while depending upon Christ for the way we respond?

Some of these questions may take time to work through, especially when the consequences of what happened are still present.

You may need continuing protection, wise counsel, or someone who will help you carry a grief that has gone largely unseen.

The Father knows the whole story.

The Christ who brought you near remains your life.

And His Spirit is at work within you as you learn to entrust even this painful part of your life to Him.

The One who judges justly is also our Father.

For Deeper Reflection

When you think about the person who hurt you, what outcome do you most want for them? How much of that desire concerns truth, protection, restitution, or appropriate consequences, and has any part of it become a desire to see them suffer?

What have you lost through the injury? Is there grief you've had little opportunity to express or a trusted person who could help you work through it?

Have you been told, or have you assumed, that forgiveness requires restored trust? How might Scripture's teaching about repentance, accountability, and wisdom help you understand your responsibility more clearly?

When painful memories return, how can you recognize the difference between experiencing the hurt again and choosing to nurture resentment?

What faithful action belongs to you today, and what part of the outcome do you need to entrust to the Father?

How does knowing that Christ lives within you change the way you approach this struggle?

A Prayer of Return

Father, thank You that You know everything that has happened, including the things no one else has seen.

Thank You that You love righteousness and justice. Nothing escapes Your knowledge, and Your judgment is always right.

Thank You for Jesus Christ, who suffered unjustly, entrusted Himself to You, and bore our sins so that we might be reconciled to You.

You know the hurt I still carry and the things I've lost. There are questions I may never be able to answer, and I entrust them to You.

I also acknowledge the ways I've wanted another person to suffer because of what they did. I confess that desire and turn from it, trusting Your righteousness and mercy.

Lord Jesus, You are my life.

By Your Spirit, express Your truth, courage, wisdom, patience, and love through me as I make the decisions that belong to me.

Lead me to speak honestly, seek appropriate justice, and protect those who need protection. As I maintain necessary boundaries, keep me from allowing revenge to become my purpose.

Thank You that I can bring my sorrow into Your presence without hiding it.

Thank You that Your love for me is settled in Christ.

And thank You that the One who judges justly is also my Father.

In Jesus' name, amen.

Scripture Trail for Further Study

Jonah 1:1–3; 2:1–10; 3:1–4:11
Exodus 34:6–7
Jeremiah 18:7–10
Psalm 55
Psalm 62:5–8
Psalm 139:23–24
Proverbs 22:3; 24:17–18
Matthew 12:39–41; 18:15–35
Mark 3:1–6; 11:25
Luke 17:3–4
Romans 3:21–26; 8:1–17; 12:9–13:4
Galatians 5:16–25
Ephesians 4:25–5:2
Philippians 2:12–13
2 Timothy 4:14–15
1 Peter 1:17–21; 2:18–25; 3:18

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Why Does Their Success Bother Me?: Psalm 73, Envy, Grief, and the Goodness of Nearness to God