Love in Action: Romans 12:9-21

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.

The text message came at 11 PM. It was from the man who had fired him six months ago. Wrongly, he still believed. Unfairly. Without cause.

The message said: "I'm in trouble. Can we talk?"

He stared at the screen. His first instinct was to delete it. Let the man suffer. He'd earned it.

Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.

But he was a Christian now. Or trying to be. And the commands weren't optional.

He typed back: "Coffee tomorrow morning?"

Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.

The next morning, he found his former boss in a back booth at Denny's. The man looked diminished—smaller than he remembered. Grayer. The arrogance that had made him unbearable to work for had evaporated.

"I'm sorry," the man said. No preamble. "What I did to you was wrong. I've been carrying it."

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.

He had been patient. Six months of job searching. Three months of unemployment. Bills piling up. But he had prayed through it. Found hope in scripture. Stayed faithful.

"I forgive you," he said. The words came easier than he expected.

Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

"What kind of trouble?" he asked.

The story came out. The company had folded. His boss—his former boss—was broke. His wife had left. His health was failing. He was sleeping in his car.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse.

This was the man who had humiliated him in front of the whole office. Who had lied about his performance. Who had made his last months there miserable.

"You can stay with us," he heard himself say. "Until you get on your feet."

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.

His wife would understand. Probably. Eventually. She had wept with him during the unemployment months. Now she would help him extend grace to the one who caused it.

Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.

His former boss—a man who had prided himself on his corner office—was now in a low position. Homeless. Humbled. And the command was clear: associate with him. Don't look down.

Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone.

He had imagined revenge scenarios. Fantasized about the day his boss would fail. Now that day had come, and the fantasy tasted like ash. Repaying evil for evil was not the way.

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.

As far as it depends on you. He couldn't control his former boss's responses. But he could control his own. Peace was possible if he chose it.

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.

Vengeance belonged to God. The man had wronged him—God saw that. God would deal with it. He didn't have to carry the burden of being judge and executioner.

On the contrary: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head."

His enemy was hungry. Actually hungry. Hadn't eaten in two days, he admitted. So they ordered breakfast. Eggs, bacon, pancakes. Coffee refills.

The burning coals weren't about punishment—they were about overwhelming someone with undeserved kindness. Coals of conviction. Coals of transformation.

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

This was the battle. Evil had tried to overcome him—through bitterness, through resentment, through justified anger nursed into hatred. But he didn't have to let evil win.

Overcome evil with good. Not ignore evil. Not pretend evil didn't happen. Overcome it. Defeat it. With good.

He paid for breakfast. Drove his former boss to his house. Introduced him to his wife, who hugged the stranger without asking questions.

"The guest room is down the hall," she said. "Make yourself at home."

Love must be sincere.

It was.