I Was Just Thinking No Odd Results “Nothing produces such odd results as trying to get even.” Franklin P. Jones July 2007

Many years ago a wealthy Illinois resident had a dispute with a poor neighbor over $2.50. Filled with anger and bitterness the rich man hired a young lawyer, named Abraham Lincoln, to sue the poor man for the money. Lincoln finally consented but demanded $10 in advance to handle the case.

When the rich man gave him the money, Lincoln offered the poor man $5.00 if he would agree to settle the $2.50 claim. The guy of course agreed, Lincoln paid him the $5.00, the man returned to Lincoln $2.50, which Lincoln gave to the rich man, pocketing the remaining $5.00 as his fee.

The rich moron had foolishly paid four times the original sum, in his attempt to get even with a person whom he believed had wronged him.

The identity of Franklin P. Jones is debatable, but the man nailed a remarkable principle in this month’s quote about the “odd results” from “trying to get even.” Acts of revenge for real or imagined harms and slights often do produce odd and unintended results. In most cases the person trying to get even reaps the worst effects of his vengeance.

The writer and poet, Dorothy Parker, told us that “revenge is a dish best served cold.”

All of us know what she’s talking about. Whenever I feel that my honor is maligned, my property taken, or my rights denied, rather than lashing out in the heat of the moment I find it to be far more satisfying to bide my time, harbor the offense in my heart, and plan a suitable response so that when the great event finally comes I can savor the moment and rejoice in my enemy’s ignominious defeat.

“What is best in life?” the Mongol general asked his warriors. He then approved of Conan the Barbarian’s response, “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of the women.”

Some of us can understand that kind of exaltation, but people holding even the most modest version of such a monstrous attitude finally become victims of their own aggression — losing the capacity for experiencing kindness, peace, and joy in all of their relationships.

Reflexive and instinctive forgiveness is surely one of the most important activities cultivated by any person who intends to live life in the sunshine of true joy, because anger and bitterness are acids that eat away the vessel that contains them.

I love a quote by Buddha, “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one getting burned.”

Jesus doubtlessly agreed with Buddha’s sentiment because He said that if your enemy takes your coat, then you should also give him your sweater (Huntington’s version).

The type of action that Jesus demanded provides the only way for me to escape from confrontation without being either victim or counter-attacker.

But more important than reducing aggression is the noble intention of giving away my sweater to an attacker — not because my enemy might need my sweater, but because my enemy certainly needs my forgiveness. In fact, the act of handing the sweater over to him obviates the need to forgive by doing away with the wrong itself. He didn’t take anything from me, but merely accepted what I gave him.

By such an act we might become like the bishop in Les MisÈrables who purchased Jean Val Jean’s life for the price of two gold candlesticks. We might be able to say with him:

“God has raised you out of darkness, I have bought your soul for God.”

Whether or not we can actually help an enemy towards the light, however, the requirements for living the life of peace and love that I insist upon for myself necessarily drive from my own heart any shadows of bitterness or vengeance.

One thing that helps me profoundly with this letting go is the realization that I am myself so often in the wrong. I have certainly committed more harm against the righteousness of Heaven than any person could possibly commit against me. CS Lewis said for me to forgive the inexcusable, “because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you.”

Right! I’m so grateful for the sense that I’m cleansed of every black spot that ever marked my soul. I can then use this as source of a power for excusing others for whatever offenses — real or imagined — they commit against me.

I’m determined to avoid the “odd results” that Franklin P. Jones described as always attaching themselves to any attempt to get even with anybody for any reason. I’ve found a better way!

Don Huntington
Publisher
don@110mag.com