Kingdom Heart

Matthew 5:21-26

Good morning, Church. You look great. Grab your Bibles and meet me in Matthew—I’ll be there in just a minute.

I hope y’all had a great Saturday, because I sure did. Thanks to the Florida Baptist Convention and our Northeast Florida Baptist Association, Blair and I got to play a little hooky from school on Friday and sneak away to St. Augustine for some time together.

Now, let me tell you—there are some characters out there. We saw a guy dressed up and running around like Captain Jack Sparrow. Then a lady came up and asked if we wanted a tarot card reading. I just looked at her, said, “Repent and believe the gospel,” and kept it moving.

Pretty sure there were about 15 weddings taking place around St. Augustine during our time there.

Friday Night- I take Blair to this nice restaurant. Blair has had this restaurant on her list for a long time—River and Fort—so we finally went. Beautiful place. Great food. But right next to us was a group that was, let’s just say, three sheets into the wind. And one guy decided that was the perfect time to start yelling and cursing at his significant other in the middle of a nice dinner.

It was a sobering reminder that we live in a lost and dying world. And if we don’t spread the gospel, then God will wait and raise up another generation who will be faithful to carry His good news.

But here’s the thing—after a couple days away, as fun as it was, there’s nothing like coming home. Back to your own house. Back to your own bed. You can stay at a nice hotel, eat at fancy restaurants, walk through historic streets—but at the end of the day, there’s something about your own pillow, your own space, your own people that just feels right. And that’s a good reminder for us spiritually too—this world may have some things to offer, but it’s not home. Our home is with Christ. Amen.? Amen.

Yesterday was the first Saturday this month I didn’t watch the Florida Gators lose a football game. Now, before you get too excited, it’s not because they suddenly figured out how to win—it’s because they didn’t play. But listen, I’ll take it.

I used to get so mad when they’d lose. I mean furious. Like my whole Saturday was ruined because a bunch of 19-year-olds in orange and blue couldn’t get a first down. That’s silly, right? But let’s be honest—we get mad over the dumbest things.

We blow up in traffic because someone didn’t hit the gas fast enough when the light turned green. We snap at our kids because they left Legos on the floor. We stew for hours because somebody cut us off in line at Publix. We hold grudges because a coworker didn’t give us credit for something small.

And if we’re honest, it’s not just the little stuff—it’s that we let these small irritations pile up until we’re living with a low-grade anger that spills out everywhere.

Now, don’t get me wrong—anger itself isn’t the problem. Anger can actually be good. Jesus got angry.

Anger is just one of the many emotions God gave us to navigate through this world.

The problem is most of our anger isn’t righteous. Me getting mad at college kids in Gainesville because they can’t put points on the board—that’s not righteous. You blowing up because traffic was slow—that’s not righteous.

But when we see evil celebrated, when we see people rejoicing over someone being murdered—that should make us angry. That’s the kind of anger that reflects God’s heart for justice.

The question is: what do we do with our anger?

Because it’s not just if we get angry—that’s inevitable. We live in a broken world, surrounded by broken people, and we ourselves are broken. You can’t make it through a single day without something pushing your buttons. The real issue is what we do next.

Some of us stuff it down. We say, “I’m fine, I’m fine,” while inside we’re keeping score, stacking bricks on a wall of resentment.

Others of us explode—we slam doors, raise our voices, fire off texts we wish we could unsend. Looking like that little cartoon anger character in the pixar movie Inside out.

Either way, Jesus says anger mishandled is deadly. Maybe not physically deadly—but spirutally deadly- deadly to relationships, deadly to our witness, deadly to the life God calls us to.

That’s why Jesus presses deeper in Matthew 5. He’s not lowering the bar by saying, “Hey, just don’t murder anybody.” He’s raising the bar and saying, “Even the anger you harbor in your heart matters to God.” It’s like He’s telling us, “Don’t just measure your life by what you haven’t done wrong. Look at what’s happening in your heart.”

And that’s where the rubber meets the road. Because our anger can either drive us toward God’s righteousness—or toward our own ruin. Righteous anger leads us to protect the vulnerable, to speak truth, to confront sin, to push back against the darkness in this world.

Unrighteous anger- It eats us alive. It poisons marriages, fractures friendships, divides churches.

Matthew 5:21–26 ““You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire. So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are going with him to court, lest your accuser hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you be put in prison. Truly, I say to you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.”

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Look what Jesus just did.

He looks at the crowd and says, “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment.”

Do you hear what He’s doing? He’s taking the command we all think we’re safe with—“Well, at least I haven’t murdered anybody”—and He pulls it all the way back to the root. He’s saying, “You think the problem is just the outward action, but the real danger starts way before that. It starts in the heart. It starts with the anger you carry.”

Jesus always elevates the law- you heard do not murder- I say to you- if you commit murder in your heart- you’re guilty of murder.

and we are all guilty of commiting murder in our heart- because we have all been behind the car going 60 in the left lane.

Understand that Jesus is not just concerned with what we do with our hands but what we harbor in our hearts. Because what you harbor long enough in your heart eventually makes its way out in your words, your tone, your relationships—and that’s what He’s after.

And if you haven’t noticed, the world is angry. We are living in a cultural rage fest. Social media has been one giant social experiment, and it has failed miserably. It was supposed to connect us, but all it’s really done is divide us. Scroll through the comments section—it doesn’t matter if it’s about politics, sports, or what somebody had for dinner—it turns into an argument. That’s all X is: a battlefield where people fight with thumbs and keyboards instead of fists.

I honestly believe we’re in a civil war of sorts—not of flesh and blood, but of thoughts, of understanding, of direction. Every day people are deciding how to move—either closer to Christ or further into a Christless descent. And the scary thing is, the more we harbor anger, resentment, bitterness in our hearts, the easier it is for us to lash out, to join the shouting, to become part of the noise.

But Jesus doesn’t just call us to manage our behavior. He calls us to let Him rule our hearts. Because if He doesn’t reign here first—in our hearts—then the fruit of our lives will always reveal the anger and chaos we’ve been harboring inside.

That is the 1. The Danger of Mismanaged Anger (vv. 21–22)

Jesus raises the standard beyond murder to the anger in our hearts. And He doesn’t mince words. He says in Matthew 5:22 (ESV), “But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment.” In other words—sinful anger is deadly. Even if it never spills over into violence, it wounds, it divides, it destroys.

And here’s the thing—your heart will eventually show up in your mouth. Jesus said it Himself in Matthew 12:34: “For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” If all that ever comes out of you is cutting remarks, sarcasm dripping with venom, constant criticism, yelling, bitterness—then I’ve got news for you: you’re angry. You don’t need a lie detector test. Just listen to yourself. The overflow of your heart has a sound, and Jesus says it will come spilling out of your mouth.

And it doesn’t just come out in the big moments when you blow up—it leaks out in your tone, in the way you sigh, in the way you roll your eyes, in the way you send that text with a sharp edge. Proverbs 29:11 (ESV) says, “A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back.” If you’re always venting, always popping off, always unloading—you’re not wise, you’re foolish.

This is why Jesus takes anger so seriously. Because if it stays in the heart long enough, it won’t stay hidden.

It comes out in our words, and once words are out—you can’t get them back. James 3:6 (ESV) says, “The tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness… The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell.” That’s strong language, but James doesn’t sugarcoat it. He’s saying your words can light up a whole house in flames. And once a fire starts—you can’t un-burn wood.

And you know this is true. You may say a million nice, wonderful things to someone, but it’s the hurtful word—the cutting remark, the insult, the angry outburst—that sticks. That’s the one that echoes in their head at night. Proverbs 12:18 (ESV) says, “There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.” Did you catch that? Angry words don’t just sting—they pierce. They cut into people like a blade, and those wounds last.

That’s why Paul tells us in Ephesians 4:29 (ESV), “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” Why? Because words can either be weapons that tear down or tools that build up. And Jesus is saying—anger left unchecked is going to make your words destructive every time.

Have you ever noticed this? When somebody says something hurtful to us—when somebody offends us—we always judge their actions. “Can you believe they said that?” But when we’re the one who offends, we want people to judge our motives. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I was just tired. I was just frustrated. The kids were driving me crazy.” We excuse ourselves with careless words, but those words still land.

Words matter. Jesus makes that clear. And there are a few different ways anger shows up in our words. Some of us are just flat-out aggressive. We say it straight: “You idiot.” “Get that trash out of here.” No filter, no hesitation—you know exactly what’s in the heart because it comes spilling right out of the mouth.

That’s what Jesus is talking about when He says, “Whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council” (Matt. 5:22, ESV). He uses the word raca, which basically means “empty-headed.” It’s a way of demeaning someone, writing them off as worthless. And Jesus says that’s serious—it’s not harmless banter.

But it’s not just the loud mouths. Some of us are passive with our anger. We don’t explode—we simmer. We use sarcasm like a weapon. We give the cold shoulder. We gossip behind someone’s back. We smile to their face but cut them down when they’re not in the room. That’s just as destructive. Proverbs 26:24 (ESV) says, “Whoever hates disguises himself with his lips and harbors deceit in his heart.” Passive anger is sneaky, but it’s still sinful.

Because the Bible’s crystal clear about this: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Prov. 18:21, ESV). What you say has the power to wound or the power to heal. To bless or to curse. And if you ever find yourself saying, “Well, I was just saying…”—you probably shouldn’t have said it.

So church, here’s the reality: you may never murder somebody with your hands, but you can absolutely murder someone’s spirit with your words.

That’s why Jesus doesn’t let us off the hook. He’s after what’s happening in the heart, because the heart always finds its way out through the tongue.

But let me be clear here—anger itself isn’t the enemy.

There is a 2. righteous anger that honors God.

Ephesians 4:26 (ESV) says, “Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger.” Notice it doesn’t say, “Never be angry.” It says, “When you are angry, don’t let that anger turn into sin.”

Jesus Himself got angry. In Mark 3:5 (ESV), when He saw the Pharisees’ hard hearts, it says, “He looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart.”

In John 2, He flipped tables and drove out the money changers because the temple had become a marketplace instead of a house of prayer. That’s not sinful rage—that’s holy anger. That’s the kind of anger that comes from love for God’s holiness and love for people being harmed.

The problem isn’t that we get angry—it’s what we get angry about.

Me fuming at 19-year-old football players because they can’t convert on third down—that’s not righteous anger. You losing it in traffic—that’s not righteous anger. But seeing evil paraded as good? Seeing injustice celebrated? Seeing people rejoice over violence and death? That should stir something in us. That should break our hearts and light a holy fire in us.

So the question isn’t just, “Are you angry?” The question is, “What are you angry about—and what are you doing with that anger?”

So what does righteous anger actually look like? The Bible is not silent on this: Proverbs 6 tells us. These are the things God hates.

Listen to this—Proverbs 6:16–19 (ESV): “There are six things that the LORD hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers.”

That’s strong language—things the Lord hates. And if God hates them, then as His people, we should hate them too. Not only should we avoid them in our own lives, but it’s right to feel a holy anger when we see them happening around us. Because that’s not just “pet peeves”—that’s God’s heart for righteousness burning against sin and destruction.

When you see innocent children being trafficked and exploited—if that doesn’t stir something holy in you, something’s wrong. That should make us angry, because it makes God angry.

When you see people mocking the name of Jesus, dragging His church through the mud, turning His gospel into a cheap product for profit—that should make us angry, because Jesus flipped tables for less.

When you see racism, injustice, or oppression crushing people made in the image of God, that should stir righteous anger. Micah 6:8 (ESV) says, “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” A love for justice means we don’t shrug our shoulders at evil—we hate what God hates and love what God loves.

When you see people rejoicing over murder—cheering when someone loses their life—that should break your heart and make you angry, because life is sacred. Every person bears the image of God.

That’s righteous anger. It’s anger that burns hot against sin, evil, and injustice—but it’s never about defending me. It’s about defending the holiness of God, the good of others, and the beauty of His truth. Righteous anger is outward-facing and God-centered. Sinful anger? That’s inward-facing and me-centered.

That’s righteous anger. It’s anger that burns hot against sin, evil, and injustice—but it’s never about defending me. It’s about defending the holiness of God, the good of others, and the beauty of His truth. Righteous anger is outward-facing and God-centered. Sinful anger? That’s inward-facing and me-centered.

But here’s the problem—the enemy has lulled the church to sleep. He’s lulled Christians to sleep.

We live in the Bible Belt where everybody thinks they’re a Christian because their grandma was or because they prayed some prayer at VBS. But we’re finding out that’s not true. You don’t have to look far to see it.

Teachers on social media openly celebrating the death of a man simply because he held Christian values. That’s the culture we’re living in. And then we scratch our heads wondering why little Johnny doesn’t love Jesus.

But what do we expect when we hand our kids over to Caesar to be discipled and then act shocked when they come home looking like Romans? Voddie Baucham said it best: “We cannot continue to send our children to Caesar for their education and be surprised when they come home as Romans.”

Church, this is why our anger must be righteous, not reckless. Because while we’re blowing up in traffic or getting bent out of shape over football games, the enemy is discipling a generation to hate God, to mock holiness, to despise truth. And if we stay asleep, we will lose them.

And listen—Jesus doesn’t mince words here. He says in Matthew 5 that if your anger is sinful, if your anger is about you and not about Him, you are liable to judgment. In fact, He says if you call your brother a fool, you are in danger of the fire of hell.

This isn’t just about raising your voice or losing your temper. Jesus is telling us that the heart posture behind our anger can damn us. That’s not me being dramatic—that’s the Son of God warning us.

Because at the end of the day, sin doesn’t just make us “bad people.”

We are not sinners because we sin- we sin because we are sinners. and sin is comis treason against the holy creator God of the entire universe.

Sin makes us guilty before a holy God. And sinful anger is no small thing—it is hell-deserving.

and this is how big of deal it is- Jesus says in Matthew 5:23–24 (ESV), “So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.”

3. The Call to Pursue Reconciliation (vv. 23–24)

That’s wild, isn’t it? Jesus is saying if you walk into worship, ready to sing your heart out, ready to drop your tithe in the basket, ready to offer up your gift to God—and right then you remember there’s somebody in your life you’re not right with—stop. Don’t fake your way through it. Don’t go through the motions. Leave your gift, get up, and go make it right.

You know what that tells me? Reconciliation is not optional—it’s essential. It’s not secondary to worship—it’s part of worship. God isn’t impressed with our songs if we won’t humble ourselves and pursue peace with each other. He doesn’t want lip service; He wants heart service.

Because unresolved anger and problems are going to infect our worship unto the Lord.

I don’t mean ya’ll just look mad while your singing- which some of ya’ll do. Looking like your just trying to stare at the sun.

The Bible means if you are genuinely upset- if there is unresolved problems- go and fix them.

The Christian life is not fake it til you make it. Its work. And Jesus is not telling us to do anything He hasn’t already done Himself.

And this is where the gospel shines the brightest. Because what Jesus is asking us to do for each other is exactly what He did for us. Romans 5:10 (ESV) says, “While we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son.”

Did you catch that? God didn’t wait for us to come crawling to Him with an apology. He didn’t sit back with His arms folded saying, “You first.” No—He came after us. He sent His Son into enemy territory, right into our sin, right into our mess, to reconcile us to Himself.

And you know who’s the worst at this? Me.

I don’t know about you, but my flesh wants to sit back and wait. My flesh says, “Well, they wronged me, so they know where to find me.” Or, “If they really cared, they’d be the one to make the first move.” “They know my number.” “They know where I’m at.”

That’s my default. Pride tells me I’m justified in standing still. But praise God Jesus didn’t treat me that way.

Praise God He didn’t wait for Jordan Chambers to get his act together, to clean himself up, to crawl back begging for mercy. No—while I was still a sinner, Christ died for me (Romans 5:8, ESV).

That means if I want to follow Jesus, I can’t keep waiting on everybody else to take the first step. I can’t demand apologies and conditions before I’ll reconcile. If Christ is in me, then I’ve got to move toward people—even when it’s uncomfortable, even when I feel like I’m the one in the right. Because that’s what my Savior did for me.

And church, I wonder how many relationships are stuck right now because both sides are just standing there, arms crossed, waiting on the other person to move. Jesus is saying, “Stop waiting. You go. You forgive. You reconcile. Because that’s what I did for you.”

If you belong to Jesus, reconciliation isn’t just something you have to do—it’s something you get to do. It’s part of bearing the family resemblance. That you are a new creation in Christ Jesus.

Paul says it like this in 2 Corinthians 5:17 (ESV): “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” That means if you belong to Jesus, you’re not who you used to be. The old you—the bitter you, the angry you, the unforgiving you—that person is dead. The new has come.

And then Paul says in verse 18, “All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.” Don’t miss that. God reconciled us to Himself, and now He hands us that same ministry. Verse 19: “That is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them.” There’s the key.

How do you reconcile with somebody else—whether you’re the one offended or the one who did the offending? You don’t fix your eyes on the offense. You don’t fix your eyes on the offender. You fix your eyes on Jesus. You remind yourself of your place before the Almighty Sovereign King of the universe. Because here’s the truth—through the blood of Jesus Christ, though we had offended God over and over and over again, He did not count our trespasses against us. Instead, He nailed them to the cross.

And in the same way, if we’ve been forgiven like that, then that’s the kind of forgiveness we’re called to offer. That’s why Paul goes on to say, “Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God” (v. 20). Do you hear that? You and I are walking, breathing representatives of reconciliation. The gospel isn’t just what we believe—it’s what we live.

And then Paul gives us the foundation for it all in verse 21: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

That means Jesus became what we are—sin—so we could become what He is—righteous. That’s the exchange. That’s the gospel. That’s reconciliation.

So Jesus says in Matthew 5, if you come to worship—whether it’s in this building or in your own living room—and you realize there’s anger, bitterness, unforgiveness in your heart toward someone—stop. Don’t pretend with God. Don’t go through the motions. First, go and get right with your brother or sister.

Because just like when our sin nailed Jesus to the cross and He looked out and said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34, ESV)—that’s the same forgiveness we’ve been given, and that’s the same forgiveness we’re called to extend.

And think about Peter asking Jesus about forgiveness- In Matthew 18.

Jesus gives us one of the clearest teachings on forgiveness.

Peter comes to Him and says, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” (v. 21, ESV).

Now when Peter says that, Peter thinks he’s killing it. Because under the old covenant, the standard was “eye for eye, tooth for tooth.” You hurt me, I hurt you back. That’s justice. So Peter says, “How about seven?”

Seven is the number of completion, the number of perfection. He’s thinking, “Jesus is going to be so impressed with me. He’s going to call me Teacher’s Pet.”

But Jesus doesn’t pat him on the back and tells him how forgiving he is.

He says, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times” (v. 22, ESV).

He isn’t asking us to do math- Praise God:

its perfection times perfect perfection. Not seven. Not 490. No—unlimited. As many times as it takes.

The equivalent in English would be, “Peter, as many times as I’ve forgiven you—that’s how many times you forgive others.”

And let’s just be real—that’s hard. Forgiveness doesn’t come naturally. It grates against our flesh.

Because we don’t live in a world that cheers on forgiveness—we live in a world that’s growing more and more anti-Christian every day. A world that celebrates revenge, celebrates bitterness, celebrates canceling people instead of reconciling with them.

And in the middle of all that, you see these bizarre alliances forming—conflicting ideologies locking arms—not because they actually agree with each other, but because they share one common goal: removing Christ. Removing the gospel. Removing the influence of biblical Christianity from our nation.

Take, for example, movements like The Queer Muslim Project. You’ve got the “alphabet mafia” waving the banner of diversity, equity, and inclusion, welcoming Islam into the fold—not because Islam shares their values (it doesn’t), but because together they think they can stamp out what they call “repressive Christianity.” But here’s the irony—they’re not going to like the results. Look at Hamtramck, Michigan. It’s now a majority Muslim town, and the very people that the Alphabet Mafia celebrated voted to take down there dumb flag. Or consider the group “Gays for Palestine.” Friend, if those same individuals were to step foot in Gaza or the West Bank, they wouldn’t be welcomed at all—they’d be hurled off the top of a building.

So here’s the point: don’t let your heart twist into hatred toward these people. They are blind. They’re deceived. They don’t see the contradiction, they don’t understand the darkness they’re embracing. They’re just pawns in a bigger war—a spiritual war. So don’t meet them with rage, meet them with the words of Jesus: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Because at the end of the day, forgiveness is not optional for the people of God. It’s not based on how worthy the other person is. It’s based on how much we’ve been forgiven. And that’s a bottomless well.

Here’s the bottom line: forgiven people forgive people. You can’t say you’ve received mercy from God and then withhold mercy from others. You can’t stand at the foot of the cross, where your infinite debt was canceled, and then turn around and refuse to forgive someone else’s offense against you.

And let me be clear—forgiveness is not the same thing as forgetting. It’s not acting like the offense never happened. And forgiveness is not the same thing as ignoring justice. If someone broke the law, there are still consequences. Romans 13 says God gave us governing authorities to carry out justice. Forgiveness doesn’t cancel accountability.

So what is forgiveness, biblically? Forgiveness is a decision to release someone from the debt they owe you because of their offense. It’s canceling their debt in your heart the same way God canceled yours at the cross. Paul says it like this in Colossians 3:13 (ESV): “As the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.” And Ephesians 4:32 (ESV): “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”

Just ask yourself this question: Can God forget anything? No- since God cannot forget anything then forgiveness is not forgetting.

Forgiveness is me choosing not to hold your sin against you, even if I remember it, even if it hurt, even if it left a scar. It’s refusing to keep replaying it in my head or weaponizing it against you in the future. It’s saying, “You don’t owe me anymore, because Jesus already paid my debt—and I refuse to make you pay yours.”

And I get it—some of you are angry and you don’t even know why. You’ve got this low-grade irritation always bubbling just under the surface. On paper, life is good. You’re blessed. You’ve got a roof over your head, food in the fridge, and a family that loves you. But the smallest thing—somebody cutting you off in traffic, your boss sending one more email, your wife not treating you like the king you think you are—it sets you off. And you think, What is wrong with me? Why do I live right on the edge like this?

Maybe it’s because there’s a wound under there that’s never been healed. Anger is often just the mask we wear to protect something more tender—hurt, rejection, shame, fear. If you’ve ever had a scar that healed, someone can bump into it and it doesn’t hurt anymore. But if it’s not healed—if it’s still an open wound—when life bumps into you, you explode. That’s what’s going on with a lot of us. We’re carrying around open wounds and calling it “just who I am.”

But here’s the thing—wounds don’t heal without forgiveness. We think by holding on to the offense, we’re protecting ourselves.

But in reality, we’re chaining ourselves to the very thing that hurt us. C.S. Lewis said it perfectly: “Everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive. But to refuse reconciliation is to live chained to the very wrong that wounded us.”

And some of you are living chained. You’re dragging that offense everywhere you go—into your marriage, into your parenting, into your friendships, even into your worship. And no wonder you feel so heavy. No wonder you feel so on edge. Because bitterness is a burden you were never meant to carry.

But here’s the good news: Jesus heals wounds and He is a chainbreaker. His invitation still stands: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28, ESV). Carrying anger is a heavy load—you weren’t built to carry it. You weren’t created to walk around weighed down by bitterness, grudges, and resentment. And neither was I.

Jesus says, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:29–30, ESV). That’s what He’s offering—not just relief from your outbursts, but rest for your soul. Not just behavior modification, but heart transformation.

Some of you have been carrying bitterness for years. You’ve been carrying wounds from your dad, from your ex, from a friend who betrayed you. And you keep thinking, “If I just bury it, it’ll go away.” But it doesn’t. It leaks out in your anger. And Jesus is saying today, “Bring it to Me. Lay it down. Let Me heal what you can’t.”

So let’s make it plain: a holy God reconciled sinners to Himself through the blood of His Son. And now the reconciled—you and me—are sent out as ambassadors of reconciliation. Forgiven people forgive people. That’s the mark of the gospel in your life.

So what are you waiting for? Why are you still clinging to anger? Why are you still replaying that wound over and over like a highlight reel in your mind? Why are you still trying to collect a debt from somebody else when Jesus has already paid yours in full?

Think about it—if you’re holding on to bitterness, if you’re demanding payment from somebody else, you are essentially saying, “The cross wasn’t enough. I need them to suffer too.” And that’s not the gospel. The gospel says the debt has already been canceled. It’s finished. Paid in full.

If I believe Jesus really paid it all for me, why am I still trying to make somebody else pay?

Maybe for you, that means you need to lean across the room today and whisper, “Hey, when this is over, can we talk?” Maybe it means you need to pick up the phone this afternoon and call your dad, or your daughter, or that old friend you haven’t spoken to in years. Maybe you need to look somebody in the eye and say those three powerful words: “I am sorry.”

Don’t wait. Don’t put it off. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger. Delayed obedience is still disobedience. Paul says in Ephesians 4:27, “Give no opportunity to the devil.” Do you know what unforgiveness does? It cracks the door open and gives the enemy a foothold in your marriage, in your friendships, in your church. Don’t give him that space. Keep short accounts. Forgive, as you have been forgiven.