Have you ever looked at your fellow saints and noted to yourself the following:
- I just don’t understand, why is he always late?
- Why is she so (over) sensitive?
- Why aren’t they opening up their home for Bible study?
- Why aren’t people reaching out to the newbies, strangers, or neighbors?
- Why isn’t he helping out?
I know I have. And in many cases, our perceptions are correct: very often, others in the church are in fact falling short of God’s design for the life of the church. They really are not serving with all their might. They really are poor stewards of their time or money. They really can be inhospitable. The list goes on…
Yet, as I dwelt on this, I realized that quite often, those failings which most stand out to us correspond with those areas where we least struggle. For example, how often does someone who’s poor at math point out others who are poor at math? Likely never (except perhaps in seeking sympathy). On the other hand, based on my experience, I’m a lot more likely to notice someone is poor in punctuality, if I am consistently and reliably on time. Similarly, I notice (and feel free to criticize) the person who is sloppy in theology because I’m ever so careful in mine.
And suddenly, it came to me: I’ve become the self-righteous Pharisee that Jesus spoke of in Luke 18:
The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’
You know, that Pharisee wasn’t a bad guy. He did, after all, fast twice a week, gave tithes. Very admirable “faithful” follower of God.
I’m betting he was punctual and hospitable too.
And then, Jesus compared this “faithful” worshipper with the very tax collector that the Pharisee looked down on, and pronounced a very different judgment than the Pharisee would have ever expected.
But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”
Most of the time, we don’t think of ourselves as the Pharisee. But how easily we do think of ourselves like the Pharisee thought of himself.
We are not so blatant as to cast aspersions or to say, “I thank God that I am not like those others.” But we so quickly think less of others based on their weaknesses — and it’s usually in areas we are strong. Why? Most of the time, I suspect the answer is that we are the Pharisee — whose instinct is to dwell on areas we have “got things right” rather than the countless areas of our lives that are tarnished by self and sin.
Yet God justifies the one whose only assessment of himself was the only one that mattered: “the sinner.”
What then? Know your strengths. Be thankful for God’s grace in those areas. But the next time you or I start dwelling upon the flaws or shortcomings of a fellow believer (or even an unbeliever!), may we instead take careful inventory of those planks that are present in our own eyes before we attempt to (meekly, graciously, lovingly) pluck the specks out of others’ eyes. May we frequently cry out, “Thank you God for your mercy to me, a wretched sinner!” instead of comparing our so-called righteousness against another’s deeds. And may such habits result in more loving and edifying relationships, to the glory of His grace that is at work in us.