Recently there was a threat of a gunman in my building. It was never confirmed, and it was fairly looked over in the news. However, at the moment… the fear was intense. A couple of hours later (after the police had swarmed the area) we were told to go back to normal activity. Needless to say, that was easier said than done. Without answers my fear festered and I turned to social media for anything to subside my curiosity. There I was bombarded by terrified facebook posts and tweets from my friends and neighbors. One had commented at the time of the lockdown about how she had seen the suspect. In her distress, she made a few grammatical errors. I didn’t notice them until I read the first reply. It was from a woman who took it on herself to correct this young lady’s grammar through mockery. I was shocked. Seriously?
But the more I though about it, the less surprised I became. We live in a world of people who police others minor mistakes. They have lost the bigger picture. No longer is it about empathy, gently leading someone into wisdom, but mocking the accused into submission. “You forgot an apostrophe! Therefore I consider myself greater than you and your opinion by scoffing at your mistake. Here in front of my hoard of followers I deem you a Moron.”
Where is the kindness? What happened to loving someone in the midst of human faults? The term correction has now become synonymous with “burn”. Which leads me to assume that it is easier to watch others burn in shame than truly care. Sadly, in a growing “me vs. the world” mentality, this doesn’t surprise me.
This stained version of correction has infiltrated the Christian realm. From the outside, Christianity only looks like uncomfortable correction and a finger pointing Christ at the helm. Being wrong isn’t a time to learn and experience the beautiful freedom of Grace, but instead a sinful soreness that will be picked at painfully by those who claim to be helping.
But this isn’t my Jesus. My Jesus didn’t participate in the jeers when the adulterous woman was brought to him. He didn’t belittle her or make her feel the full pain of her actions. No, he turned and questioned the people trying to make an example of her. He stared into the eyes of the judgmental and asked them to search their own hearts for wrongdoing. One by one, they shamefully backed away. Then he turned to her with deep compassion, recognizing that he would die for this woman’s sin and forgave her. He urged her to “Go and sin no more.” His correction was made out of love because he truly cared for her wellbeing, not because he wanted to be seen as “better”. Every time I read of this moment, my heart melts because I see the Grace of Jesus. But there is more to it than that. Only one person was forgiven at the time and it wasn’t the accusers, but the broken woman. So what’s the point of self-righteousness if there is no freedom of forgiveness?
If I truly take this into consideration, then when I stand in front of Christ I will not have the people that I judged my righteousness against to make me feel better standing between me and my Savior. No, I won’t be able to point fingers and state how great I am compared to this person or that person. I will be there alone, his eyes peering into my soul. And I will hear my heart begging him to not be as critical of me as I was with others. I will cry out for compassion, for him to look past my actions and show me empathy. I am grateful that my Jesus won’t take that moment to mock my wrong doings, or use my errors to point out to God how much better He is than me. But instead…grace. And I will feel the warmth of forgiveness just like the redeemed woman. After a moment in the presence of my God, I will walk away clean and blessed…not damned and ashamed.
Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus.
jack everlasting 