The Ultimate Act of Revenge

If you will indulge me for a bit, I would like to tell you a story.

When I was in high school, my family and I were on vacation in Toronto when we received news my great aunt had  been brutally beaten and left for dead just outside her apartment door in San Francisco, California. The individual(s) somehow followed her into the secured building up to her apartment and pounced just as she opened the door. She was beaten so severely, that every bone in her face was broken. The attack was so heinous, it captured the attention of the entire city, including mayor Dianne Feinstein.

My aunt’s fighting soul kept her alive for nearly three weeks before her body finally gave in and failed her joyful spirit.

As my dad flew out to deal with the funeral arrangements, my mom, brother and I were left at home to struggle with coming to terms with the loss. We struggled to try to comprehend what had happened and why someone would do something so senseless. How could anyone have done this?  My aunt, at the age of nearly 90, was still taking the bus and trolley all over the city and still taught Bridge twice a week. She had survived two previous muggings prior to this attack and escaped with only a broken arm. Why did this attack have to be so brutal?

I don’t remember the exact moment when my thoughts turned from grief to that of forgiveness. I knew my aunt was a Christian and I knew I would see her again one day in Heaven. I began to take a few minutes every night before drifting off to sleep to pray for the person or persons that committed this brutal act.

I prayed they would find it in their heart to realize what they had done. I prayed that God would bring someone into their life to show them the Love of God. Though I stopped many years ago praying for them every night, I still continue to pray for them.

I tell you all that because I think as Christians we forget that when tragedies happen — like the recent murder of our trans sisters or the continued turmoil in the families of trans individuals — not only do the victims need our prayers, but those that caused the pain also need our prayers.

I have sat in church and a single question will take over my thoughts. I wonder why we as Christians were not following what Christ told us in Matthew 5:43-48.43:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ ⁴⁴ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ⁴⁵ that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. ⁴⁶ If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? ⁴⁷ And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? ⁴⁸ Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

We find it easy to pray for the victims, as it should be. But being a follower of Christ is not always meant to be easy.

Through the pain, through the grief, through the anger, we are called to do the difficult thing, pray for our enemies.

Why do I bring all this up you may be asking. Well whether it is the acts of a cowardly murderer or the acts of discrimination and violence against the trans community, it all comes down to a deep seated hate.

Nearly every trans man and woman I have ever talked to has experienced some form of hate in their lives. I am no different. Though I have a loving family, that’s not the case for my former in-laws. Their hate for me shows like jagged scars on one’s face. They seem incapable of, and not willing to try to hide it. Their attitude creates a toxic environment around my kids.

Hate is easy. Hate is the simple road to take. It knows no understanding, no compassion or sympathy.

Hate is uneducated. It lives on contempt, breeds malice and smells of disgust. We see this every time some politician wants to pass a law in opposition to the trans community.

Above all — hate is a choice.  When you hate — you have made a conscious decision to keep yourself ignorant and closed off to God’s will. You have chosen to turn your back on your fellow human being or worse yet, hate fails to see someone as a person at all.

I know I am preaching to the choir when I say that the trans community faces this on a second by second basis, but a response to it is <em>our</em> choice.

Just this past week I had to face my in-laws once again at my son’s band concert. I had hoped to avoid them altogether, but I wasn’t so lucky. As I politely said hi and continued walking, my former mother in law couldn’t help herself and said hi using my old name — twice — knowing full well how much I dislike that name. As hate so often does, it was as though someone had poured acid on my heart. I left that concert not thinking of my son and glowing on the great performance he had given — I was left in tears and burning with a hate of my own.

I could have gone back and gone toe to toe with her and have a major blow out right there in the halls of the school — with a crowd watching on.  I could have trashed them in social media when I got home. I could spend time thinking of some sort of revenge, some way to get back at them for how they treated me in public.

But honestly what would that serve. How would revenge ever accomplish anything. I have continually written and spoke on love and how we, as anyone with a life based on faith, should act and treat others. But after that very short interaction, I was left struggling. Obviously I still have a long way to go when it comes to certain people and their attitudes and their hate for the trans community and for me personally. I want to get back to that person who prayed each night for a murderer. I pray for those distant people that continually spread hatred on the community, but this one shot too close to home. I have to remember that when Christ called us to pray for our enemies, he meant all of them — even those in our own family (or former family).

We hurt everyday from the pain that hate causes. Some of us carry emotional scars and all to many of us carry physical scars that hate has produced. But Christ has called us to continue to pray for those who stand against us — no matter who they are — whether they are murderers, politicians or family.

I know this can be difficult to do, I’m struggling with it right now, and I know that I have not been as gracious to those who have hurt me over the years, BUT I am reminded that my pain is nothing compared to the pain Christ experienced on the cross. Christ had the power to strike each and every one of those Roman soldiers down with just a breath, but he sought out a different kind of revenge. If he could pray for the people that drove nails through his ankles and wrists, can we pray for those who hurt us?

Tags: Christ, featured, forgiveness, hate, Jesus, religion, Transgender

Category: Transgender Body & Soul