The Sins We Ignore: The Silent Killer

The air in this country feels heavier these days. First came the attempted assassination of former President Trump, shot and wounded while on the campaign trail. Then news broke of the murder of Minnesota state lawmaker Melissa Hortman and her husband, killed in a politically motivated attack. And now, Charlie Kirk, himself, struck down - silenced in broad daylight at a university event.

When hatred explodes, it doesn’t just leave bodies. It shatters trust, peace, and the very soil of human dignity. These acts are extreme, but they are expressions of something far deeper. If hatred can sharpen into a bullet, it must first fester in the quiet places of our hearts.

That’s why my grandfather used to remind everyone around him of a saying rooted in Martin Luther’s wisdom: “The old crow may fly overhead, but you don’t have to let him build a nest.” We can’t always control the flash of anger or the sting of offense when it first sweeps over us. Hatred may circle overhead, tempting us to dwell on it. But we can control whether it finds a home. The moment we let it nest—when we nurse bitterness, replay the wrong, or justify resentment, it takes root. And once it takes root, it grows.

This post is part of The Sins We Ignore series. We began by exposing pride. Not the healthy pride that takes satisfaction in a job well done, but the destructive kind of pride Scripture calls hubris. This is arrogance that blinds us, isolates us, and sets us up for a fall. If you missed that post, I encourage you to read it. It sets the stage for understanding how easily ignored sins can derail our spiritual lives.

Now, we turn to the next hidden struggle: hatred. One that whispers before it screams, one that roots itself beneath the surface before it erupts in violence.

John gives this solemn warning:

“Anyone who hates another brother or sister is really a murderer at heart. And you know that murderers don’t have eternal life within them.”
—1 John 3:15 (NLT)

Hatred is not always loud. But it is always deadly.

How Hatred Hides

If you asked most people whether they hated someone, the answer would almost certainly be “no.” We’re too polite for that word. We prefer softer phrases: “I don’t really deal with them anymore,” or “We just don’t get along,” or “I wish them the best, but I keep my distance.”

We tell ourselves those words because they sound noble. But Scripture is more direct:

“Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all offenses.”
—Proverbs 10:12 (ESV)

In other words, distance doesn’t always mean peace. Sometimes it’s the mask that hatred wears.

I’ve seen this in church life more times than I can count. Two people sit on opposite sides of the sanctuary, avoiding each other like enemies, but both claiming they’ve “moved on.” Families split down the middle because of an old wound, and the story gets rewritten so many times that nobody even remembers the truth anymore. Old friends stop speaking, not because forgiveness happened, but because contempt quietly hardened into stone.

That’s how hatred hides: under the surface, silent, and unacknowledged.

What Jesus Said

Jesus never let sin hide in the shadows. In the Sermon on the Mount, He went straight to the root of hatred:

“You’re familiar with the commandment… Do not murder. But I’m telling you, if you hold anger in your heart, you are subject to judgment!”
—Matthew 5:21–22 (TPT)

Notice the radical shift. The Pharisees measured righteousness by whether someone acted violently. Jesus measured it by what lived in the heart. Murder doesn’t begin with a weapon — it begins with resentment. It begins with that unspoken bitterness we nurse in silence.

Think about it: no one wakes up one morning and suddenly decides to destroy another person’s life. That decision grows slowly. First, the offense. Then the replay. Then the bitterness. Then the justification. Eventually, the heart becomes so hardened that hatred feels natural, even justified.

This is why Jesus went straight for the root. He wasn’t lowering the standard — He was raising it. He was saying, “Don’t congratulate yourself because you’ve never pulled a trigger or raised a fist. If hatred is sitting quietly in your heart, you’ve already let the seed of murder take root.”

And Paul echoes this with urgency:

“Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”
—Ephesians 4:31–32 (ESV)

Paul doesn’t call this optional. He doesn’t say, “Work on it if you feel like it.” He says, “Put it away.” Rip it out. Don’t let it stay.

Pulling Hatred Out By The Root

So how do we actually do this? How do we dig beneath the surface and deal with hatred before it erupts?

Think of your heart like a garden. At first glance, it might look fine. But weeds spread underground, choking out healthy growth before you even notice. Hatred works the same way. To overcome it, we have to pull it out by the root and plant something new.

Expose the Root

Gardeners know cutting weeds at the surface doesn’t solve anything. Unless you dig, the weed will return stronger. Hatred is the same. We hide it under words like “I’m just hurt” or “I’m over it” — but the root still grows.

David’s prayer becomes our starting point:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you.”
—Psalm 139:23–24 (NLT)

Exposure begins with asking God to show us what we’ve ignored.

Confess the Poison

Weeds left too long poison the soil around them. Hatred poisons everything it touches. It leaks into conversations, colors how we see people, and even shapes how we treat those who had nothing to do with the original offense.

Confession is that moment of honesty where we admit: “This isn’t harmless. This is sin.”

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
—1 John 1:9 (ESV)

Confession doesn’t make us weak. It frees us to let God cleanse the soil.

Release the Weight

Some weeds pull up easily. Others require tugging again and again. Forgiveness feels the same way. Sometimes you release once and feel free. Other times you must release daily until the bitterness finally loses its grip.

Paul urged us to persistence:

“Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.”
—Colossians 3:13 (NLT)

Forgiveness is the steady work of loosening the root until it comes free.

Replace with Life

A wise gardener knows bare soil invites new weeds. The only way to keep them out is to plant something healthy.

Paul gave us the replacement plan:

“If your enemy is hungry, buy him lunch; if he’s thirsty, bring him a drink. Don’t let evil get the best of you; get the best of evil by doing good.”
—Romans 12:20–21 (MSG)

Hatred can only be defeated by love. This concept was echoed by the late Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. when he said, “Hate cannot drive out hate - only love can do that.” It doesn’t mean you excuse the offense, but you plant blessing where bitterness once grew. Prayer. Kind words. Small acts of good. Every seed of love crowds hatred out of the soil of your heart.

Forgiveness Doesn’t Mean Access

Now let me be clear: forgiveness does not mean unlimited access.

There are people in my own story, including family members and people I once called “best friend”, that I’ve had to separate myself from. I don’t speak ill of them. I don’t wish them harm. And it wasn’t a decision made out of anger. It was a decision made out of protection for the people I care about most.

Every time they were present in my life, the result was the same: discord, resentment, drama, turmoil. The most Christlike choice I could make was to forgive them but not allow them to keep planting destruction in my life.

Paul’s words anchor this wisdom:

“If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.”
—Romans 12:18 (ESV)

Those two words — if possible — are freeing. Peace is always the goal, but it isn’t always possible. Sometimes the only way to live at peace is to set boundaries. Forgiveness clears the bitterness. Boundaries protect the peace.

That isn’t hypocrisy. It’s wisdom.

Living Free From Hatred

Every garden requires tending. Left alone, weeds will always return. The same is true in our hearts. Hatred may grow quietly, but God’s grace is stronger.

If you’ve had to set boundaries with people who continually bring harm, don’t carry this guilt. Forgiveness isn’t diminished by wisdom. Sometimes the greatest act of love is choosing peace — for yourself, for those you care about, and even for the one you’ve released into God’s hands.

We began this reflection by remembering moments of hatred that exploded into unthinkable violence — attempts on leaders’ lives, families destroyed, a voice silenced in broad daylight. These moments remind us that hatred, when left unchecked, doesn’t stay hidden. It grows. It hardens. It lashes out. And when it does, the destruction is far-reaching.

But hatred doesn’t have to write the last chapter. Christ shows us a different way. His love is the light that pushes back the darkness. His forgiveness is the cleansing rain that restores poisoned soil. His Spirit is the new life that grows where weeds once dominated.

The world will always have crows circling overhead. Hatred will always try to find a home. But you don’t have to let it build a nest. You can choose the garden instead — a life rooted in grace, rich in compassion, full of seeds that grow love instead of bitterness.

So let me leave you with this: you are not defined by the violence of our world, the betrayal of others, or the bitterness of the past. You are defined by the love of Christ alive in you.

Hatred may be a sin we ignore, but love — real, freeing, life-giving love — is a gift we cannot afford to miss.

Walk in that love. Walk in that freedom. And let your life be the garden where His grace takes root and grows — even in a world that so often feels overrun by weeds.