Lethal roots

I couldn’t believe how much root was attached to the morning glory weed I pulled from loose soil between some rose bushes. About two feet of root came up before it snapped off! As I dumped it into my weed bucket, I wondered if the writer of Hebrews had morning glory in mind when he wrote: “Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many” (Heb. 12:14-15).

I once wondered why the verse said “a bitter root grows up” instead of a “bitter plant grows up.” Then I realized that the origins are in the root¸ and when it’s full of bitterness, so will be the result that shows. Bitterness is clearly forbidden for those who follow Christ: “Get rid of all bitterness, rage, and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice” (Eph. 4:31). Bitterness and its ugly cousins put the big Me, not God, in control:

“ME” was hurt by what my (fill in the blank--maybe spouse, brother, sister, parent, friend, boss, coworker) did to ME.

“ME” didn’t get what I thought God deserved to give “ME.”

“ME” lost something important to “ME.”

Brooding over what one considers unfair treatment can lead to three natural reactions, according to Dr. Charles Swindoll, writing in Hope Again (Word, 1996). One is an aggressive blaming of others that can that grow into revenge and rage. In that process, he wrote, it “nurtures a deep root of bitterness that tenaciously wraps around our hearts” (p. 83). The second reaction is a passive “I feel sorry for myself,” resulting in withdrawal and depression. Third is a “holding pattern” when we postpone or deny our feelings, even though those suppressed feelings will eat at us like an acid (p. 85).

Such negative feelings have been linked to significant health problems. One powerful example concerned a forty-something woman who experienced chronic stomach disorders and arthritis. She asked a pastor to pray for her, and in the midst of praying he sensed the Holy Spirit telling him she had a problem with unforgiveness, especially toward her sister. When he inquired about her relationship with her sister, she stiffened up and told of being unable to forgive her sister for a long-ago offense.

Drawing from Psalm 32:3, where David connected health issues to keeping silent about his sin (“my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long”), the pastor suggested her health problems could be related to her bitterness. When she relented and asked for advice, he counseled her to write her sister a letter of forgiveness, asking to renew their relationship. She did so, but delayed mailing it. In the meantime she became so ill she thought she might die. She dragged herself to her car and drove to a mailbox. “The moment she dropped off the letter she experienced some relief, and complete physical relief came when she arrived home.”(1)

One story of forgiveness I've never forgotten concerns Corrie ten Boom, survivor of Nazi atrocities, who spoke widely after the war. One time after her presentation she was greeted by a former prison camp guard she recognized as being especially cruel to her and her late sister. When this man said he’d become a Christian and extended his hand to Corrie, at first she resisted. Bitterness almost paralyzed her. Finally, appealing to the Holy Spirit, she let go of that old bitterness and found the strength to extend her hand in forgiveness and greeting.

Because it’s so much like a pesky morning glory vine, which travels on and on through the darkness of the soil, bitterness takes radical effort to root out. Yet God truly cares about our “spiritual weed control.” Trust me, I’ve had to get down on my knees for spiritual weeds, too, but the anguish was worth if for the freedom I felt later.

(1) From John Wimber, Power Healing (Harper & Row, 1987), retold in Klaus Issler, Living Into the Life of Jesus (IVP, 2012), p. 59.