The Sum of Things
In honor of my blog's claim to transparency, and the sometimes messy canvas of raw and unapologetic truth, the backdrop of reflection for this post arose out of a brief conversation I had recently with someone I am unfortunately required to interact with on occasion. Most days this man isn't even a blip on my life's radar or a thought in my head, but when I'm required to interface with him, I do connect with negative thought patterns. I won't pretend to be the Christian who loves everybody all the time (though I try) and never has a mean thought towards others (again, I try my best here). That isn't me and it's simply not true, nor do I trust the individual who says they've never struggled to love their neighbor (Mark 12:31). I, for one, battle in this area more than I'd like. In this person's case, I genuinely cannot stand the sight of him, the sound of his voice, or the nearness of his presence. I have zero respect for him as a man, and would love to live out the remainder of my days without ever seeing him again. That, unfortunately, is not my lot, and the thorn in my flesh (2 Corinthians 12:8-9) that he is, exists as an ongoing reminder to myself of my own dire need for God's grace - to be kind, tenderhearted, full of mercy and compassion, to love as Christ loves. To be any of these things around this person is, for me, only accomplished through God's grace. Maybe it's difficult to hear a professed Jesus follower speak so candidly about open disgust for another, but I can't and won't pretend to be perfect or never fall short of His best (Romans 3:23). I have a long ways to go with the Lord and some days the process is slow. The truth is, it is both the ugly and beautiful reality of where I'm at on my own path with Christ. Ugly, because it's not God's will for me to abide in a place of such strong disdain for any fellow human. Beautiful, because it really is His will for us to love our neighbors and our enemies too (Matthew 5:44), and my awareness of this internal deficit assures me that my Father is already at work in this area of my heart.
Does it make me feel better to speak the truth about my feelings for him? Not really, because more than anything, it's my reminder of how much work still needs to be done in me. As much as I may perceive this person as bad or evil or loathsome, I'm cognizant of the truth that God created him, loves him and sees the good in him. My perception of him isn't necessarily accurate, because only God can see the true colors of a man's heart. However, there's power in owning our truth and walking in it unashamed. There's freedom in being able to put words to the negative emotions I might feel towards another because I can't release or transform what I refuse to acknowledge and see. If I spend my life denying that I ever have a mean or hateful thought towards a person or circumstance then I'm lying at best or deceived at worst. 1 John 1:8 says it like this - "If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and His Word is not in us."
With that, I caution us all (please know, I'm raising my own hand here too!) against thinking that we're able to sum up a man's life based on one ugly chapter of his narrative (we all have an ugly chapter, honestly, including you). Don't for a minute think you can characterize his heart and overall moral condition (remember, David, in his sin, was still called a "man after God's own heart"- see Acts 13:22) based on something you read online from years passed or gossip that you overheard from co-workers. We look both ignorant and arrogant in this posture of judgment (remember John 8:7). Get to know a person's life story in full context before reading chapter seven and then slamming the book shut as if God is somehow too weak or unable or unwilling to transform even the worst sinner's heart. Is it not He who fashioned them all (Jeremiah 1:5)? How dare we assume a person is beyond redemption in the mighty hand of God? For many of us, we were once prideful fools who thought we could get away with anything (I've been there). My husband, for example, talks openly about his own history of gang violence, drug addiction, and exploitation of others. He neither tries to justify nor excuse any of his immoral decisions from back in his day, but what he does understand now is that God's arm isn't too short to save anyone, "not even me," he'll sometimes say. Some things we've done we couldn't sugar coat if we tried, but honestly, why would anyone want to? My mistakes, my failures, and my missteps are the ocean from which I have seen God fashion the most beautiful shoreline. Pebbled with seashells of grace out of my sinner's heart, He has shaped and fashioned the sandy beaches of my life with immeasurable grains of love, mercy, and forgiveness. Of these things, I would know precious little had I not first sown seed into the fields of my sinful flesh. Our mistakes don't define us, friend. They are there by God's grace to refine us (Malachi 3:3, Zechariah 13:9, 1 Peter 1:7).
Judge a man's heart, soul, and moral compass based on one ugly chapter of his life's story, and you'll miss out on a certain breadth and depth of the love of God. Presume a man's character to be only as great as the sum of his worst mistakes and you've missed the entire life and message of Jesus Christ. Read the New Testament again. And again. And again. Let the cooling waters of God's grace touch your heart and mine that we might learn to see people, not as we perceive them to be, but as God's chosen instruments of mercy. The sum of things? We're all imperfect, including you and including me.
Video Credit on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRX-r51_1TA
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