A Plank, A Rock & A Baby Ewe Lamb

The peril of a life lived as a critic means that one sees only the flaws in everyone else, but refuses to acknowledge the same flaws in themselves. The danger is the damage created by the individual who has no self-awareness for his/her own sin, but freely attacks or exposes other’s sin. Ironically, how many times has the critic been found committing the same sin as those he/she attacks? As the finger points, three more tend to point back at the accuser.

The climax to the Sermon on the Mount (Mt. 5-7) is a warning to the listeners where danger lurks when judgmental attitudes prevail. The imagery given is the person criticizing someone with a speck in his/her eye while ignoring the plank in their own eye. The humorous scene of someone claiming to help another with their “sawdust of a problem” does more damage to that person because he/her is constantly being smacked in the head by a 2×4.

When they dragged the woman before the crowds, they weren’t looking for justice. They were looking to trap and trick Jesus. They were creating a show with her and Jesus on center-stage; they might as well have been selling popcorn, peanuts and programs. But Jesus refused to play their games. His writing in the sand was likely a distraction to take the attention off the woman (if she was “caught in the very act of adultery,” where’s the guy?). With Jesus wedged between upholding the law while providing mercy for an exploited woman, he looked at her accusers in the eye. He proposed, “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her” (Jn. 8:7). With the younger men ready to launch their rocks, the older ones dropped theirs to the ground and left, leading the young with them. If you’re going to be quick to accuse, then your own life needs to be guilt free.

In the wake of David’s sin with Bathsheba, he was graced by a visit from his prophet and friend, Nathan (David has a son named Nathan and it may say something about his fondness for the prophet). Nathan shared with the king an injustice. A wealthy man, with a flock of sheep, confiscated the only sheep owned by a penniless man. The ewe lamb was like a house pet to the poor man. The wealthy man had a friend traveling through and refused to sacrifice one his own flock or herd, so he stole from the poor man. Outraged, David visibly saw in this scene made him blind to his own sin. Nathan’s words were direct while cutting to the heart, “You’re the man!” (2 Sam. 12:7a).

Clearly, the critical and judgmental life is hardly encouraged in Scripture. Just as clear is how easily we endorse the critical and judgmental life as a means of defending truth, the gospel or Scripture. In other words, we need to fix their attitude, perspective and doctrine because ours is just fine if not perfect. Let the finger pointing begin as we do so in the name of Truth, the Gospel and Scripture. Let the three fingers pointing back at us be our indictment.

If there were a way to soften the critic within us and to stop the finger pointing, then at least two steps must be taken. First, take a good look in the mirror. Work on yourself before working on others. The bible is intended to reveal the heart of the one reading it (Jas.1:22-25). And while the image of the sword prevails in Hebrews 4:12, the link to the sword is its “sharpness” not its weaponry. So yes, the Word penetrates to your own soul and spirit. If God’s Word is going to convict and confront, it must convict and confront the person reading it, or holding it, before applying it to others and should never be weaponized.

Secondly, when the time comes to address something in a person’s life, and that time will come, humility and compassion must be the tip of the spear. Paul tells the Galatians that when someone is caught in a sin, restoration is a gentle process (Gal. 6:1). It’s not about hurting the person with your plank or by the stone in your hand, but through weakness, compassion and understanding. No wonder Paul clarifies that the restoration process is led by someone spiritual.

The danger of a life lived as a critic is that it ultimately pits me against them. I’m the good and they’re the bad. And when that happens, we’re not only blinded to God’s will but we widen the gulf between each other, a gulf that was bridged by a lamb’s sacrifice.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

A Very COVID Christmas

Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year, and with apologies to Andy Williams, it may be the most wonderful time of the year. From Thanksgiving to New Years the focus on family, forgiveness and future hopes are packaged and wrapped neatly under the Christmas tree.

Since March COVID-19 has disrupted our entire lives and the story of its disruption has been told like an endlessly bad joke. We know about the social distancing protocols. We’ve seen the business sector take a huge hit. Questions about mental health are raised as children and parents struggle to educate at home. Who knew that the term “in person,” as a legitimate way to describe our church services, would be coined? Sickness, death and dread hover like a black cloud waiting to burst. Right now, it’s hard to be merry when COVID is everywhere. And so far this Christmas hasn’t been near as “wonderful” as prior Christmases.

As we’re stepping into Christmas, a few thoughts have been running through my mind worth sharing. First, history is replete with Christmas’s that have been far from wonderful. Just four days after the attack on Pearl Harbor, the United States declared war on Germany (declaring war on Japan was a quicker process). By Christmas, America was committed to war with families sending their young men (and some young women) overseas. Nearly 300,000 never returned. Historians tell us that WWI left even a larger hole in people’s lives, taking years to heal (a reason why Europe was so slow to stop Germany’s aggression). The closest marker we have to understand COVID is the Spanish Flu which lasted two years, 1918-1920, and claimed nearly 700,000 lives. Maybe the deadliest disease was the Black Plague hitting Europe in 1347, lasting four years and claiming an estimated 25 million lives. These events are not included to minimize COVID and its impact on our lives, but to remind us that while the path we tread is new to us, it’s well worn by those who have gone on before us. Jesus walked with them through their Christmas seasons, and he’ll walk with us (Heb. 12:2; 13:8).

Secondly, Christmas this year has exposed what the marginalized have experienced: beneath the joy and laughter is pain and suffering. Significant pain and suffering. Social isolating has opened our eyes to the need of community and gathering. We miss our friends and family. We’re battling loneliness with mental health issues rising. But what all of us are struggling with is what many people deal with on a regular basis. People are estranged and longing for reconnection, even if they don’t understand how to reconnect (see Act. 2:42-47).

Thirdly, a better question than asking, “Why?” is “How long?” (Ps. 13:1-2). The “Why” question is usually unanswerable. Sometimes a direct line between cause and effect can be drawn. Sometimes. Most of the time a correlation does not exist. Sure, if you smoke a pack of cigarettes for thirty years you may end up with lung cancer or COPD. Or maybe you won’t. That’s part of the cause and effect weirdness. But more so, asking the “Why” question puts God in a defensive posture of blame. Directly or indirectly God is at fault for causing or allowing the bad to happen (when Jesus quotes the why question of Ps. 22:1, it’s relational and he’s not seeking an explanation). Even if we knew the “why,” it doesn’t change our situation, we still have to endure or give up. But the “How long” question steps far more into faith by enlisting God’s presence without further explanation. Since facts won’t change our situation, we need God’s assurance that our situation will come to an end.

Finally, instead of looking for the silver lining, be the silver lining for someone’s life. Make that extra phone call of encouragment. Provide a meal to a neighbor or family suffering through COVID. Send a Christmas card to someone who won’t receive cards. Be generous with the homeless. Purchase a meal for frontline workers. Maybe through our compassionate generosity we can make this a very merry Christmas anyway.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)