Journal 2016

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else . . . (Luke 18:9 NIV)

I am a recovering Pharisee. I identify more with the law than with grace, with Martha more than Mary, with the big brother rather than the prodigal son, with self-righteousness over God’s righteousness. God, help me!

Had I been at the synagogue the day Jesus healed the crippled woman, I would have been the Pharisee condemning Jesus for working on the Sabbath. That is my natural, Adamic nature, the old man, of the world. Yes, I’ve come a long, long way, but I’m not there yet—and won’t be until I get to heaven. Whenever I think I’m “better than,” I’ve crossed the line into self-righteousness.

So, I explore this thought:  If I choose wisely (the God path), does that make me better than those who choose to resist God? My flesh says, “Yes, thus making me superior.” But that is arrogance. Scorn does not become me. Disgust or rolling the eyes or looking down at someone—how can that be a good choice?

I am responsible for my own faith, my own choices, my own reactions, and responses. I don’t know another person’s heart—not really. We are each accountable to our own master—be it God or Satan or money or pain.

Since I’ve chosen God as my master, then I only answer to Him. It is not my job to judge another person’s choices. I might notice that they’ve chosen a poor master, and I can urge them to reconsider their path, but they may be bound in chains and may not know that freedom is available to them. Why get upset and rage at them for not opening their eyes—when they are truly blinded by the god of this world and cannot see until the God of Heaven opens their eyes.

But God has set me free from the law of sin and death. He gives light and life and freedom. No more condemnation, judgment, pride, or superiority. Let God be God and me the chiefest of sinners whom God has redeemed.

You will never understand the heart of a Pharisee unless you realize that he sees the plank in his eye as belonging to others. (Erwin Lutzer in his book Who Are You to Judge?)