the roots of bitterness
You’ve likely taken a bite of an unripe grapefruit and experienced the unpleasant sensation, a taste that bites you back; it’s too bitter. Or you’ve been stuck in weather that was so cold that you felt it biting at your fingers, cheeks, and nose; we call it bitter cold. A similar experience can happen in the heart when we experience pain, loss, heartbreak, and disappointment. These experiences “bite” us. And this is where the word bitter comes from: [bit]ter, biter, cut with teeth. Something is bitter when it bites(cuts) the senses, or when it bites into my deepest needs and desires.
Hebrews 12:15 mentions bitterness: “See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.”
The author seems to be showing and asking something of us something at the same time: we are to not let our bitterness take root, as bitterness can grow and cause trouble.
We get cut, bitten, chewed up. Sometimes this occurs on a surface level, like someone cutting to get in line ahead of us after we’ve been waiting. Sometimes it happens on a deeper level, like unexpectedly losing a loved one. Other times our cuts may be sudden and superficial but lasting, like experiencing a thousand paper cuts over years. Hard experiences bite at us, and we will, of course, react. In the realm of what seems to be thousands of possible reactions, bitterness stands out here. It’s multidimensional. Something bitter happens to us and we become bitter ourselves.
Now, we don’t invite the bitter thoughts and feelings, but trouble comes when we choose to keep them going. This is what Jesus is referring to in the Sermon on the Mount when he says: “whoever is angry with his brother is in danger of judgment.” The amplified version of the Bible offers a translation help here: “But I say to you that everyone who continues to be angry with his brother or harbors malice (enmity of heart) against him…” Note the word “continues.” This is the language of pulling an ember up to the mouth and blowing on it, feeding a flame to keep it burning. Consider how helpful it is when venting about a situation or relationship for the umpteenth time. Maybe it didn’t start this way but am I now seeking validation from an audience I know agrees with me? How many news articles feed my already-angry-with-the-other-side perspective? Have you felt the horrible impotence of saying to a spouse again and again, “How could you!?” I’m choosing to keep it going. But why would we do that? Does it help?
Yes and no. It does not help my situation. But it feels better (for a time) to take on the power of the biter than to feel the bite. Bitterness feels like power, and can be used as power against others, myself, or God, or—if you don’t believe in God—life itself or the universe. I can’t change this situation, but I don’t have to accept it. I don’t have to forgive. Or maybe I wish I could, but I don’t feel like I can accept what’s happened. This is the circumstances stemming from the seed of bitterness: powerlessness. And with an honest look at oneself, it seems reasonable to say we’ve all experienced it. We’ve all faced things that seemed unthinkable, impossible, unforgiveable. You may be in this kind of place right now.
How can we begin to change things? First, we need to acknowledge that unless we can accept things as they are, we can’t simply uproot bitterness. And that’s an ok start. But, if we are willing to try to accept, then we have something to work with. Our next best step is to starve the bitterness. Don’t feed it. Stay away from those news sites, ask your friends to help you pause when they sense another unfruitful vent session, choose silence instead of argument, hang in there and ask for something instead of walking away and rolling your eyes. This doesn’t fix it, but it may stop the growth.
Next, find safe and helpful places to speak about your anger and pain. The book of Psalms is filled with songs of anger, fear, scarcity, and threat. We are meant to express our heart and to not pull punches. It’s imperative to face the depth and specificity of our thoughts and feelings to move through them and heal. Find someone and begin the work of talking it out without turning to the power-grab of biting back. Therapy is a great place to start if you don’t find yourself with relationships that are able to constructively listen without enabling bitterness or seeking to fix you. And prayer is the chief place to safely engage your heart, a place with God where you can come apart, milk the venom, cry bitterly, point the finger, and never be turned away, shamed, or abandoned. It takes great courage to pray this way. And, in his own way, He will talk back.
Take in good art. Music, movies, books, poetry. Find helpful voices and stories that depict people living with and moving though pain, anger, and dejection. Good art will expose our unhelpful strategies (sin) and will promote good paths forward—and in an honest way. It will also validate our difficult and often winding path away from bitterness. The greatest piece of art (and it happens to be reality for us as well) is the cross of Christ. The hymn How Deep the Father’s Love for Us has a line that says: “Behold the man upon the cross.” Consider this way of practicing your spirituality. Not to take in the cross as information, or theological truth alone, but as a category-breaking way in which God handled it all. If the cry of bitterness is “I cannot, or will not accept this,” the story of the cross offers a different way to consider that stance. Why was Jesus up there? Because Judas betrayed him? Because of the bitter, clenched teeth of a mob? Because his disciples abandoned him? Because the religious orders conspired against him? Because he was misunderstood? Because the Romans took pleasure in brutalizing and making examples? Because governmental power racially profiled and discriminated against him? Because the enemy sought to steal kill and destroy? Yes.
But why else was he there? Did he choose it? Lay himself down? Make atonement for our sin? Create an example? Reflect our brokenness back to us? Because the Father willed him there? Because joy was set before him? To fulfil the law? To confuse us with his silence and lack of complaining? Because he so loved the world? Because we needed him? For me? Yes, and more. No event in history is as dizzyingly thick with outrage, accident, purpose, betrayal, loyalty, powerlessness, power, love, and hate as the cross of Christ. More was happening in those hours than we can fully comprehend.
Maybe more is always happening in our time than we can comprehend. More bad, and somehow even more good, than I can know. Will I let my view of life have fellowship with the cross of Christ? If I will allow myself to behold the man upon the cross, perhaps the seeds of something new can grow up and choke out the weeds of bitterness.
Prior to coming to The Barnabas Center in Charlotte in 2018, Kyle worked with families, couples, and individuals at a church in Daytona Beach, FL, for ten years. Kyle received his M.A. in Counseling from Reformed Theological Seminary in Orlando, FL, and has been counseling in the church and in private practice since then.
Kyle has been married to Carlyn since 2005 and they have two daughters. When not in the office or hanging out with his family, he likes to fly fish, spin records, and mind-run The Amazing Race (via TV and couch) with his wife.
