I haven’t any scripture to ground this recurring realization of mine in, but there’s one truth that never ceases to expose me and, often times, the folks around me: the qualities you hate most in people (or a person in particular) are typically the imperfections you personally struggle or have struggled with the most.
We are always on the verge of hypocrisy if we haven’t already unsheathed the measuring stick to crack against our brothers’ knees. For scripture reveals:
Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.
Matthew 7:1-5
After about a year or two of peculiar rebellion against taking up scripture reading as an imperative activity (or as an activity at all) since being renewed in Christ, the gospels have been a great source of clarity. Best thing about reading them a second and third time is that you realized that you missed a lot the last time you read it. There are two unavoidable responses to this bit in Matthew:
Fear: The measuring stick that we put up against our brothers to follow will be used against us in our judgment (verse 1, and it’s repeated another way in Romans 2:3). This is not to say that we should not have growth-driven expectations of each other as brothers, or that we should not hold and use the holy standards of scripture to help one another and hold each other accountable. It is, however, a response to the man who in arrogant, narcissistic, pomp bitterness tears his brother apart in his mind and in action without ever properly confronting Him. This doesn’t always have to manifest itself in harsh, guilt-inducing language from one man to another (which it rarely even does).
Rather than speaking one-on-one with someone you’d lovingly and seriously like to see grow, you slip a slightly biting critique of the person’s character into a conversation with others. Or you indirectly drop comments and personality insults on your Facebook status and blog. Even worse: you use scripture in an unhelpful way. I know this sounds weird, for scripture is authoritative and always profitable for teaching. But throwing it in passing at someone who is obviously internally hurting, rather than compassionately discipling and revealing the healing guidance of God’s word is wicked. I’d say it’s like dark arts for a persons heart if you’re solely using it to slam a person.
Conviction: I am as guilty as my brother. As a matter of fact, because of the shear reality that I am inside of my own sinful mind 24/7, I should see myself as the guiltiest of all men. I’m selfish to the core, and even in my attempt to seek pure motives in the things I do, the bitter taste of legalism eggs me on to find my breath of fresh air in self-righteousness as I attempt to emulate selflessness (That may nor may not make complete sense to everyone).
For some reason, we feel entitled to being friends with perfect people. We expect to be around people who won’t let us down when we need them, won’t miss things when we need them there, and won’t wrong us despite practically knowing exactly how our brains operate. Our fallenness has left us afflicted and needy. And unfortunately it’s more relaxing to raise our arms to point the finger than open our eyes to the reality that we all suffer from the same disease. I know our fathers weren’t all Jesus Christ, and maybe that’s why with the invitation we have to be His children, we should risk letting our pride take the fall (because it’s inevitable regardless), accept Him as our real God, and release our friends from being our functional God. The reason is because people make terrible Gods. They perish. And they’re definitely not built for it. I’m preaching to myself right now because I made the terrible mistake as a new Christian of thinking that Christian mentors are meant to be looked up to as Christ in the flesh.
There’s a song by a great band named “As Tall As Lions.” It’s a great arrangement, though it’s a song preaching atheism. The lead singer belts out, “Can’t you see it’s better to die on your feet than live down on your knees?” It’s quite a thought-provoking lyric. The only problem is that we don’t have a choice in the matter; we will always be living down on our knees. The question is “For what exactly?” Our joys and emotions will always be held captive to whatever we hold in high regard and the harsh reality is that we do try to make these things our God. A person’s wrongful action could send your heart into an unending downward spiral if you invest that much faith in them. It’s not difficult. Understand we were not made for this.
The common response to these verses in Matthew is that we almost don’t have the right to pass any type of judgment upon anyone in the church because we have our own sins. What a terrible miscommunication. This falls into complete opposition to scripture where it states:
For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge?
1 Corinthians 5:12
If we completely abort any sort of discernment, there is no forward mobility for inner change in any member of the church. As a church, we ultimately just become charity-oriented people, with a full comprehension of the crying outside the door, but no concern for our fallen nature, need for accountability, and direction towards spiritual transformation. We become self-righteous, in a “tolerant” and accepting sort-of way. I know that seems weird to hear. But I see it all the time. How are they self-righteous? In communities like this, there isn’t hate or judgment towards the prostitute or the tax-collector; everyone understands that they have “their own sins” and that they have “no right to judge.” As a result, the people who receive the hate and judgment are those who attempt to reach for the heart and preach repentance.




