Condemning someone else as a sinner is hurtful. Condemning yourself as one is truthful.
When we look at someone’s actions and regard them as wrong, that’s one thing. When we condemn them for those actions, that’s another. I’m not talking about the civil court system. I’m talking about daily life.
When we condemn someone, we position ourselves above them. We sit on our high throne and pass judgement. We forget that we ourselves stand right beside the person we are condemning.
The media loves to confuse and ignite. They spread stories using sensationalism. We need to use a winnowing fan to discern the truth or the greater message behind their stories. Like critical thinking exercises we used to go in school and on standardized tests. Though, perhaps it’s becoming a lost art.
How can I refuse to remember that I stand in the trenches alongside my brothers and sisters, covering in filth? How can I, so covered in filth, tell the person on my left that they are dirty? Am I not also dirty?
Not as dirty as they are. That’s my retort. And I will yell it from the mountaintop. Your sin is greater than mine. You are less than I am.
That is just not true.
No one person is greater than any other. No one’s life matters more than another. Yes, some people are CEOs and others are janitors, but both professions are worthy of respect; not because of how much they earn, but because both are individuals worthy of respect.
All life is sacred. From the moment of conception to the final breath. We don’t fight for life, we fight for “normal”. We fight for “I want”. We fight for “Me, me, me, mine, mine, mine, now, now, now”.
There is a greater man, a sinless man, who sits on a higher throne that I could ever attain. He will judge between you and me. And when He does, I shudder to think what He will see.
We all need grace. We have all been given grace. All we need to do is accept that Jesus died for our sins and allow is blood to wash us free of guilt and stain.
But, I like my mud. It keeps the sun from burning my skin, it keeps the mosquitoes from biting, and it even keeps me slightly cooler (temperature-wise). But it isn’t clean. No one who looks at a pig wallowing in its slop considers it clean.
I like to roll around in my own filth and claim it’s a bath. There’s only one way to wash myself clean. Falling at the foot of the cross, confessing my sins, and running toward God with all my heart.
Will I stumble? Yes. I’m not perfect. I just have to remember that God is and He will always pick me up when I fall.