The first time I saw “Lois”, she presented as a kind, helpful person. She surprised me by asking about myself; something few people did in the new job I had just gained. Lois was quick to inform me she was a friend to extended family members of mine and shared values I held. How Lois knew this about me, I do not know because I had not shared them with her nor anyone else at this job. Though these things were nice, I sensed a slight twinge in my gut of intuitiveness that Lois was dangerous but, without other signs I continued to speak with her and share of myself and my interests as I got to know her.

After a few weeks passed, another woman at my job, “Meg,” pulled me aside and timidly suggested I be leery of Lois. Meg did not elaborate on the reasons but she finished up by saying, “I don’t want you to be burned by her.” Observing that Meg rarely had much to say about others, I took her message to heart and withdrew quietly from Lois.

Thinking back to the circumstances leading to the murder, I can see my withdrawal was the catalysis for Lois’ contempt for me. It’s almost as if she made a vow, she would do everything she could to make sure I paid for my rejection of her, and pay, I did.

In the weeks and months after my withdrawal from Lois, I focused on building my professional reputation and on cultivating positive relationships with others in the workplace. It soon became obvious I was an asset at my job and, because Lois spent much of her time tearing others down, it must have angered her that I was gaining the respect of those around me while she never seemed to. Lois began her campaign to ruin me and destroy any credibility I had gained.

I do not wish to go into further details about what she did but I will summarize by stating, she attempted to ruin my professional credentials, my reputation, my marriage and any new friendships I had made. It was at this point, murder took root within me.

The day of the crime stands out in my mind. I said to myself, if I hear one more thing Lois has said and done to destroy me, I will confront her. The opportunity came quickly. When word came to me early in the day of something else about me Lois’s venom had poisoned, I looked for an opportunity to find her alone; somewhere

no one could overhear or see us. I wanted no witnesses to the murder.

In the afternoon, I found Lois alone in a quiet room in the building. Most people had already left for the day but somehow, she had not. I confronted Lois about everything she had said and done to me and she smirked at me and said, “What are you going to do about it? I tell things as I see them.”

I committed murder. I hated her and my anger reflected this. I did a quick scan to make sure there was no one around and then I told her what I thought of her and more. The murder was quick, vindictive and there was a sick satisfaction knowing I had done the world and myself a favor. I left the room with her blood on the ground, perhaps crying out to God. If it was, I didn’t care.

I am guilty of murder.

According to Oxford American College Dictionary, murder is, “the unlawful premeditated killing of one human being by another.” Based on this definition, I am a murderer, even though I never touched Lois with my body or a weapon. The source of Lois’ blood spilling was not a result of a physical confrontation by me or anyone else. How can this be? To answer this question, we need to examine what the Judge says about murder.

In the New Testament book of Matthew, chapters 5-7 contain words that address murder and many other issues in what is now referred to as, The Sermon on the Mount. As I have

studied this lecture Jesus gave, I see His audience was the pious religious leaders of His day. These leaders were focused on making sure they appeared like they were living righteously (obedient to God’s standards) but on the inside, they often thought and valued things that were as far from righteousness as the worst “sinner” was. My thoughts and reactions mirrored these holy people.

Jesus does not hesitate to point out that being committed to God should be clear, not only in what we say and do but also in our attitudes and thoughts. This is where I find I am guilty of murder.

In Matthew 5:21-26, Jesus has a lot to say about murder:

²¹ “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ ²² But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sisterwill be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,’is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell.”

Being angry with someone is murder. 

At first consideration, a person is likely to think, how is being angry with someone murder? In Jesus’ day, the religious leaders thought murder only pertained to a physical act (Matthew 5:21). In verse 22, however, Jesus is stating not only is the physical act of murder wrong but the anger that can spur a person to the physical act of murder is just as wrong. Why?

In the original language of the book of Matthew, the word for anger is, ὀργίζω or orgizó. The writer of the book used this word because it is the anger we have when we want to see someone punished.

 This is a decision I made with no consideration of all the facts, motives and more that only God knows. It’s almost as if I have made myself the Judge. This is like declaring a judgment of “guilty” at a murder trail when I have no legal authority to do so. I have made myself judge and jury without the credentials or full information. Therefore, God says in Romans 12:19 (NIV), “Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord.”

I am a murderer.

Calling someone, “Raca” is also murder.

To understand this type of murder, we need to look back to the origin of this word. Raca is an Aramaic word. It means, “empty headed.” It was a word the people of Jesus’ day used in contempt and some scholars say it also has a root meaning of, “to spit.”

These words were used to destroy a person’s spirit.

Out of hurt, anger, humiliation and frustration, I called Lois every name in the book. I didn’t care if my words destroyed her.

I am a murderer.

Calling someone, “You fool” is murder.

When people in Jesus’ day used the word translated as, fool, they used it with spite and out of hatred. As Psalm 64:3 (NIV) says, “They sharpen their tongues like swords and aim cruel words like deadly arrows.” “You fool,” was a term used for anyone the religious leaders felt was beyond redemption. This “fool” was declared a graceless creature. Graceless in this context meant the person is so wicked, not even God should extend His salvation to them. The punishment for this murder is to be judged by the standard we have judged this “fool.” This is the foundation of the verse, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged” Matthew 7:12 (NIV)

Murder in this category goes beyond being the Judge of a person’s everyday decisions, which the word “raca” implies. “You fool” means I have decided Lois should be eternally condemned and this self-appointed condemnation is murder.

I am a murderer.

I am now in the courtroom, being tried for murder. The Grand Jury indicted me and now, the Judge will determine my guilt and sentence. He opens and examines the books; ones that tell the truthful story of my life. In my anger, I had usurped the Judge’s job and declared Lois guilty and sentenced her myself. Besides this, I took it upon myself to carry out her sentence and I decided the punishment should include the destruction of her spirit. Finally, the books revealed I, in my “righteousness”, decided Lois did not deserve to receive God’s salvation. The Judge acknowledged these things and the book is closed.

Standing before the Judge, my heart beats quickly. The turmoil of emotion within makes it hard for me to breathe. There’s no fooling this Judge. He knows what I thought; He knows what I said; He knows what I felt; He knows I’m guilty.

The Judge bangs the gavel and says, “Not guilty!” I sit down in astonishment and gratitude. I knew I was guilty and I knew I deserved punishment.

If Lois and her family were at this hearing, they surely would say, “Why? She did these things! She even admits them.”

The Judge then nods His head, reopens the books and shows them the red words, “Paid in Full.”

“How can that be?” Lois’ family might ask.

The Judge leans forward and says, “Though she is clearly a sinner, my Son took this punishment for her. I pardon her.” (Romans 5:8).

As I write this to you, the reader, I admit I have a criminal record. I can choose to make my pardon mean nothing and go on living a criminal life. I know the Judge pardoned me; so, I can do what I want.

I can also choose to weigh my thoughts and actions out of gratitude for the pardon I received. Someone else paid my penalty out of love for me.

It is a daily decision I must weigh.

It’s my choice.