Finger-pointing

“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

LUKE 6:41–42

RELIGION PROFESSOR JERRY SITTSER CAPTURES ONE OF FAMILY life’s most fundamental spiritual problems: finger-pointing.

Most homes are like mine, single parent or not. They seem to follow a similar pattern. Family members use the misbehavior of each other to excuse their own. A wife whines, “My husband is never home on time.” Her husband responds, “She’s such a crab when I’m home that it makes me want to stay away.” A brother accuses a sister, “She comes into my room all the time without asking.” She counters, “He’s always taking my CDs. I can get them if I want to. They’re mine.”^a

What can break us out of this spiritual morass? If everybody always blames someone else, how can fault ever be determined? How can the home life ever change?

Instead of offering a three-step resolution process, in the verse above Jesus prescribes the spiritual virtue of humility. Humility is the only antidote, the only medicine strong enough to take a household filled with blame and backbiting and turn it into a place of growth and encouragement.

But here’s the tricky part: Jerry Sittser would tell us that the first person, the primary patient, the student most in need of this lesson is the parent. We need to take the lead and set the example. Jerry made this observation:

As long as no one is willing to change first, then nothing will ever change. Few people dare to look at themselves as critically as they view others. We demand that the world change according to our wishes. We even pray for it. . . .

We need to pray for ourselves too, asking that God change us, whether or not he chooses to change the world around us. We need to ask God to take this fragile, selfish, flawed self of ours and make it more like him. God will answer that prayer. It is a prayer that makes his heart glad.^b

In one sense, family life is no respecter of persons. By virtue of our position as parents, we have authority over our children—but under the cross we all stand on level ground. Our little plot of earth isn’t even a centimeter higher than that of a newborn baby—we remain just as in need of God’s grace, and we require equal amounts of spiritual transformation.

Imagine the tone we could set in our homes if our children heard their mothers or fathers say, “The way I lost my temper this morning was wrong. God has convicted me that I acted in a sinful manner. I’m so sorry that you had to bear the brunt of my sinful reaction, and I thank God he has given me a family like this one where I can learn these valuable lessons. Please forgive me. I don’t want to respond in this way in the future.”

Suddenly, the kids won’t feel like they’re the only ones always being challenged. They’ll understand that God is at work on all of us, and they’ll be far more likely to admit, “Well, we’re sorry we were squabbling so much; that must really have been irritating.”

On the heels of this experience, when we talk to our daughter or son about “trespassing” into a sibling’s bedroom or “stealing” CDs, they’ll have seen repentance modeled. They’ll have witnessed a Christian receiving conviction from God and then asking for forgiveness. They’ll have learned how to question their own hearts.

But if they never see their parents do this—if they only see their parents pointing out their children’s faults—where will they learn how to challenge themselves? It certainly won’t come naturally. Learning to question ourselves is about the most difficult experience in life. It is graduate school spirituality. If humility does not get purposefully taught and consistently modeled, our kids will never get it.

Apart from pointing our children to faith in Jesus, this willingness to question ourselves may be one of the most valuable lessons we can impart to our children. Without this humble practice, fighting and dissension will never cease. During most disputes, it’s not just one kid who’s in the wrong; both have usually sinned—and each one tries to use the other’s sin as his or her excuse to sin. It is futile to try to resolve such a dispute until each child becomes willing to acknowledge his or her own shortcomings. Only when we admit our own sin and take responsibility for that sin can we live in peace and harmony.

I am still on this journey. Sin is an ever-present reality in our house; expecting one lesson on the theology of sin to change the climate is like spitting into the desert and declaring the drought over. Why? Because sin is as tenacious as it is terrible; it won’t just “go away.” It has to be continuously crucified, which means we must model humility again and again and again.

The older I get as a parent, the less faith I put in trite how-to models and the more emphasis I place in examining the spiritual realities—sin, selfishness, pride—and in applying the spiritual remedies—confession, forgiveness, and humility.

Heavenly Father, help us receive your Son’s words and seek to take the plank out of our eye first. Even when others have sinned first, let us be the first to repent wherever we have contributed sin. In Jesus’ name, amen.