Rebuilding Love

What if the thing that feels most fair is actually the thing that destroys us?

What do global wars, church discipline, and your most painful relationships have in common?

This episode explores the uncomfortable truth that justice alone can create more ruin—and why love sometimes absorbs the cost instead of demanding repayment.

If you’ve ever struggled to forgive without keeping score, this one is for you.

"Remember, you are loved, so go, love better!"

Transcript

I need not tell you that the world situation is very serious. That must be apparent to all intelligent people. I think one difficulty is that the problem is one of such enormous complexity that the very mass of facts presented to the public by press and radio make it exceedingly difficult for the man in the street to reach a clear appraisement of the situation. Furthermore, the people of this country are distant from the troubled areas of the earth, and it is hard for them to comprehend the plight and consequent reactions of the long-suffering peoples of Europe and the effect of those reactions on their governments in connection with our efforts to promote peace in the world.

These are the opening remarks of George C. Marshall, secretary of state under President Harry Truman on June 5th to the Harvard graduation class of 1947.  The speech in its entirety was 12 minutes and 19 seconds.

But in those twelve minutes, Marshall would outline a plan that would save the world.

I'm Scott Beyer and this is the Love Better Podcast where we explore the truths and the lies about love and more importantly how to turn love into a skill, something we can get better at and hone along the way.

George Catlett Marshall, Jr. was a tall man, having risen to political prominence through the ranks of the U.S. Army.  Before he became secretary of state under Truman, he had served as U.S. Army Chief of Staff during World War II where he oversaw the largest military expansion in American history and helped coordinate Allied strategy with Franklin D. Roosevelt and Winston Churchill.

He was rigidly formal in his military bearing, lean, and known for his reserved dignity. With a full head of silver hair, the posture of a military man, and a voice that spoke with steady, measured precision – everything about George C. Marshall projected reliable.

So, the world listened when George said that the hard work was just beginning… World War II might be over, but rebuilding might just be even more difficult than winning the war.

            The optimists had thought that when Nazi Germany surrendered on VE Day (May 8, 1945), that life would quickly rebound in the European nations with the commencement of peace.  But by 1947, Europe was physically ruined still, economically paralyzed, and politically unstable without any real signs that things were going to change naturally.  Enter, George C. Marshall, his plan wasn’t optimistic.  It was realistic.  Formally entitled the European Recovery Program, but more colloquially referred to as the Marshall Plan, he laid out a complex and multi-faceted problem in the European theatre and articulated that recovery would be hard and would require sacrificial solutions.

America, far from the battlefields of Europe would need to help the wartorn European countries rebuild through an infusion of foreign aid accompanied with trade alliances and exports.  The U.S. who had not started the war, but instead had won it, would have to do the unthinkable.  Instead of expecting reparations from their enemies, they would repair them.  World War II was caused by economic despair which lead to political extremism.  The Marshall Plan said that in order to avoid that cycle again – the victors would need to help the vanquished.  It didn’t seem fair, but Marshall spoke as a pragmatist… and his sober-minded realism is why we haven’t seen a world war since.

In the first Corinthian letter, Paul addressed a scandal within the church in Corinth.  It was the sort of salacious personal disgrace that would make it into today’s modern tabloids. By word of mouth, this scandal had reached the ears of the apostle Paul.  A member within that congregation, a man who called himself a Christian, had taken his father’s wife as his own.

Initially, the church in Corinth had done nothing.  They let it happen without saying a word.  Perhaps people snickered behind their hands or railed about it around the Sunday dinner table, but nobody stepped up and rebuked the behavior.  After all, sin of such an egregious nature is the type of thing we don’t talk about in polite company… better off to just let sleeping dogs lie.  That however is not what Paul told them to do.  Paul’s reaction to the Corinthian tabloid can be found in 1 Corinthians 5:

It is actually reported that there is sexual immorality among you, and of a kind that is not tolerated even among pagans, for a man has his father's wife. And you are arrogant! Ought you not rather to mourn? Let him who has done this be removed from among you. For though absent in body, I am present in spirit; and as if present, I have already pronounced judgment on the one who did such a thing. ... I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people-- not at all meaning the sexually immoral of this world, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters, since then you would need to go out of the world. But now I am writing to you not to associate with anyone who bears the name of brother if he is guilty of sexual immorality or greed, or is an idolater, reviler, drunkard, or swindler--not even to eat with such a one. For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge? God judges those outside. "Purge the evil person from among you." (1 Corinthians 5:1-3, 9-13)

The problem needed to be addressed head on.  This man was living a life that besmirched the name of Christ, was ruinous his own soul, the reputation of the church, and that doesn’t even begin to touch on how it was impacting the souls of his father or his father’s wife.  Paul doesn’t mince words – this man is an evil person – and the church needed to purge him from their ranks.

I imagine when the church received Paul’s letter, there was a lot of discomfort in the pews that day.  This man’s problem had become their problem because they had quietly approved of his sin with their silence.  Paul would later describe the reaction of the Corinthian church to his stern rebuke as earnest, godly sorrow that led to indignation, fear, and a zeal to punish what was wrong.  The church got the message.  They dealt with the man and dropped the hammer… so what Paul said next must have been a hard pill for them to swallow after they showed that evil man the door.

After telling them to purge the evil person from amongst them in his first letter, this is what Paul writes to them in his follow up letter:

Now if anyone has caused pain, he has caused it not to me, but in some measure--not to put it too severely--to all of you. For such a one, this punishment by the majority is enough, so you should rather turn to forgive and comfort him, or he may be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. So I beg you to reaffirm your love for him. For this is why I wrote, that I might test you and know whether you are obedient in everything. Anyone whom you forgive, I also forgive. Indeed, what I have forgiven, if I have forgiven anything, has been for your sake in the presence of Christ, so that we would not be outwitted by Satan; for we are not ignorant of his designs. (2 Corinthians 2:5-11)

In Paul’s second letter, he told the same congregation that expelled the man to embrace him again.  After being disciplined for his sins, this Christian man saw the error of his ways. He repented.  He sought redemption and forgiveness… but with his reputation a mar upon the church… wasn’t it his job to fix his life and make reparations?  Isn’t it his job to mend what he has broken?  After all, it was his sin that caused this mess in the first place.  Paul’s answer was no - Reaffirm your love for him because when someone has reached the bottom, you don’t handle them a shovel, you throw them a rope.

You’ve probably heard the phrase, “Life isn’t fair” before.  You’ve probably even repeated it yourself.  It’s an axiom that exists because it’s true.  We live in an unfair and imbalanced world.  And we repeat this axiom because we are creatures of justice.  We want things to be fair and balanced.  We want vengeance to be served and we want goodness to vanquish evil… at least, when we are talking about justice for others… but love isn’t about justice, it is about redemption.

As James would write in James 2:13:

So speak and so act as those who are to be judged under the law of liberty. For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment. (James 2:12-13)

At the end of World War 1, the Allied Powers imposed their will upon Germany and the other Central Powers that lost the war.  Germany surrendered by signing the Treaty of Versailles.  The treaty required them to disarm their military, concede lands, and most critically pay reparations.  Germany had to accept responsibility for the losses and damages caused by the war "as a consequence of the ... aggression of Germany and her allies." The treaty required Germany to compensate the Allied powers, and it also established an Allied "Reparation Commission" to determine the exact amount which Germany would pay and the form that such payment would take.

It was only fair that the country that had devastated others should cover the costs for their transgressions… but here is the problem.  Those costs were too high.  The German people and the generations that would follow were forced into abject poverty without any hope of ever recovering.  That sense of hopelessness overwhelmed them, especially when the taxation fell upon a new generation that hadn’t even fought in the war.  That hopelessness led to frustration led to anger led to political unrest… and ultimately, it led to Hitler and the second world war.  It might have been just, but it led to death instead of triumph.

This principle of hope through love and forgiveness after the war is why the Marshall Plan was successful and the treaty of Versaille wasn’t.  It’s also why Paul told the church to embrace the same man he once called evil… because if redemption has any chance we have to let go of our thirst for justice.

People will hurt you and they will do scandalous things.  If we are going to love better, we can’t expect reparations after repentance.  Mercy and grace must triumph over judgment because the only thing that can undo the damage of sin is the blood of Jesus, and the sad reality is that when people sin against us, they will never be able to undo the damage they have caused.

Now, don’t mistake me, it is fair to expect repentance.  Future behavior should and must change to rebuild trust, but that’s different than reparations.  Imagine if in the parable of the prodigal son the father ran out to meet the son when he realized his mistakes and come home and said, “I’ll welcome you back as soon as you repay all you owe.” – it wouldn’t work.  Reconciliation cannot be dependent on righting past wrongs.

And this is where things get really, really hard.  What if the person who sinned against you destroyed something really REALLY valuable to you? What if they took something more valuable than money?

What if they shattered your reputation?
 What if they fractured your family?
 What if they stole years of trust you can never get back?
 What if the damage is permanent?

That’s where our instinct for justice flares up strongest. That’s where we want repayment. That’s where we want balance restored.

And yet, if reconciliation is conditioned upon full restitution, most relationships would die on the spot.

Let’s be precise: forgiveness is not denial. It is not pretending the damage didn’t happen. It is not minimizing consequences. In fact, in both of our examples—Paul’s discipline in Corinth and Marshall’s economic intervention—there were real consequences first.

The man in Corinth was removed.
 Germany was disarmed.

Accountability matters. Discipline matters. Truth matters.

But love refuses to make repayment the entry fee for restoration.

The prodigal son didn’t reimburse his father for the inheritance he wasted. The father absorbed the loss. That’s what grace does. Someone absorbs the cost.

That is the scandal of the gospel.

Justice says, “Pay what you owe.”
 Love says, “I will carry what you cannot.”

And that’s exactly what Christ did for us. We did not—and cannot—repair what our sin broke. The cross is not a payment plan; it is substitution.

Which brings us back to George Marshall and the lessons learned from World War I & 2.

Marshall understood something profoundly human: crushed people do not rise by being crushed further.

And Paul understood something even deeper: a repentant sinner does not heal by being perpetually reminded of his worst moment.

So what does this mean for you?

It means if you’re married, you don’t say, “I’ll forgive you after you make this up to me.” You say, “We will rebuild together.”

It means when your children fail you, as children and as adults, you don’t say, “Come home when you’ve cleaned up your mess.” You say, “I love you, and I want to help you stand tall again.”

Loving better requires absorbing losses you did not cause.

That’s not naïve. That’s courageous.

But when repentance is real, love must be real too.

Because the alternative is endless cycles of resentment, bitterness, and escalation. That’s how wars start. That’s how churches fracture. That’s how families collapse.

Justice alone creates Versailles.
 Mercy creates Marshall Plans.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth: every one of us hopes to be treated according to the Marshall Plan and not the Treaty of Versailles.

We want discipline that leads to restoration.
 We want consequences that end in hope.
 We want someone to reaffirm their love for us after our worst failure.

So perhaps the better question isn’t, “Do they deserve mercy?”

The better question is, “What produces redemption?”

If your goal is to win, demand repayment.
 If your goal is to restore, extend grace.

Life isn’t fair.
 Love isn’t fair either.

Love is better than fair.

Learn to love better, stop seeking restitution and start seeking restoration.

As always, thank you for listening and hopefully we've done something to help make your life a little bit better.

If you are looking for other resources, you can visit my website BibleGrad.com where you can find tools for Bible study and video lessons to help you understand the Bible. If you are interested, you can sign up for a video series challenge through the website called the #HopeDoes challenge. Two short videos each week and a chance to grow in your hope by doing hopeful things. Just go to BibleGrad.com, scroll down and enter your email to get started.

Or if you run across a fascinating piece of history, a feel-good story, or some scientific insight that makes you think, “That would fit Love Better,” send it my way. Some of my favorite conversations start with something a listener shares. You can always email me directly at scott@biblegrad.com

And if you are ever in the Louisville, KY area, I’d like to invite you to come worship with me and my family at the Eastland congregation. We meet for worship every Sunday and have Bible classes for all ages on Wednesdays, too. If you want more information about Eastland, visit us at eastlandchristians.org. We would love to worship God with you and help you on your walk of faith.

And as always, until next time, “Remember, you are loved, so go… love better.”