"Don't judge me."

The best thing about this blog having only one follower (my dad) is that I can write almost anything without offending anyone. And anyway, even if my dad were offended, odds would be against him writing me out of his will -- especially since I'm probably not in it anyway (zzzzziiiing!). So, with that being said, I am just going to write.

I know I said I was starting a series of "deal-breakers." But I've changed my mind. See, that's the sort of thing a guy with one follower can do. Who's going to complain? Really. So today, I want to talk about a subject that seems to have been coming up a lot lately.

Judgment.
A woman is walking down a busy street - an expressway - on a busy day during rush hour. The stretch of road she happens to be on is under pretty extensive construction. Along the side of the road, where there was once a fenced-in section of sidewalk for foot-traffic, there is now a deep, wide trench barricaded in, forcing pedestrians onto the dangerous roadway. This is really pretty unfortunate, but there's nothing this woman can do but continue, this being the only route to get where she's going. So she scans the side of the road along the concrete barricades, desperately looking for a way out of traffic while frantically dodging the cars and trucks approaching and then passing from behind as she scurries along. You, the reader, are in one of these cars, and from a good distance still, you really don't notice anything out of the ordinary. The construction has been going on for months (same old same old), and a late-afternoon/early-evening sun-glare is really killing your peripheral vision.

BAM!!! Something just explodes into the grill of your car and sort of bounce-rolls from hood to windshield to roof, clips the tail end of the trunk, and then after a long series of flailing backward somersaults, rests in a half-lean against the large concrete wedge barricades. Of course you slam on your brakes, turn on your hazard lights, begin honking your horn, and throw that sucker in reverse through plumes of tire smoke and the smell of burnt rubber. Cars are careening into the next lane a hundred yards back in part to avoid what now is obviously a mangled woman and in part to avoid your car as it speeds up the expressway in reverse.

After throwing your car in park, you rush to the woman's side. You are standing over her, panting heavily, when...

...You scream at the top of your lungs, "What the hell is wrong with you lady?!! Can't you see there's no sidewalk? What were you thinking..?" Then after a pause, with arms crossed and a look of incredulity slathered all over your hot, red face, "You... disgust... me... I mean... I can't even take you seriously anymore." You get back into your car and, burning even more rubber, drive away, proud that because of your firm guidance, that lady will really have something to think about. You, after all, have a responsibility as an exemplary observer of traffic laws to rebuke those who willfully disobey them.

Ok, that all sounds ridiculous, right? Well, I stinkin' hope it does! It should sound like the absolute model of absurdity. And if it doesn't, you, sir or madam, either have a black heart or a severe emotional ailment. It absolutely is absurd. And even as absurd as it is, you have almost assuredly been one or both of the characters in that story (who are actually in many ways not very different from one antoher -- keep reading) hundreds, thousands, or millions of times.

I recently had someone I very much respected discover something from my past which is not something I am proud of. For reasons I really can only speculate, he chose not to bring this thing to my attention at all. Over the course of the two following months, his opinion of me severely degenerated to the point of disgust. One day, after becoming offended by a comment he had made about my supposed personal vanity, I confronted him. After forcefully attacking my personal integrity, he declared, "I can't really take you seriously because of things I have seen."

The "things he has seen" are things that, although still a challenge, no longer cripple me spiritually. They are, for the most part, in my past. What he "saw" was like the spot left on the driveway by a car that used to have an oil leak. Once the leak is fixed, the oil spot it left isn't a symptom anymore but a reminder not to skip routine maintenance appointments. But what if that thing he saw was still pervasive? In other words, what if the oil on the driveway was still fresh? The Bible makes it very clear that, on our own, sin is something we can not have any success against. It is like the concrete barriers keeping us in the roadway -- keeping us in harm's way. In a sense, we are victims of sin. We are victims of our wicked inheritance -- of the long genetic tradition of rebellion and treachery. As frantically as we search for an opening in the barrier along the dangerous road, there will not be one during this lifetime. The Bible describes our helplessness to sin over and over and over. Of course we are redeemed from its eternal penalty, but we are not immune to its earthly snares. Those roadside collisions are never going to kill us, but because our earliest relatives cut us off from the sidewalk, they're not going to stop happening either -- and they are going to beat us up a little. (Someone once told me "God disciplines, but sin punishes.")

So, the question really becomes: Can we be both helpless to sin and villains for succumbing to it? When it forces us into traffic where we are constantly and continuously mowed down and sent flailing into the asphalt only to rest in a sort of half-lean against the very sin we've committed, are we to be approached with disgust and incredulity? To be mocked and ridiculed? To be shamed and dismissed?

Let's rewind. We're back at the scene of the accident again. You have rushed over to this poor woman's side. She is a bleeding, mangled wreck, and she is in dire need of medical attention. You're standing over her, panting heavily, hair disheveled, sweating.

"SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!"

You're on all fours now, checking for a pulse, wiping blood away from her nose and mouth so that she can breath, caring for her, loving her. It has NEVER OCCURRED to you to treat her with anything but kindness, love, and concern.

Why? Why is unconditional kindness such as this so instinctive from one person to another - even a complete stranger - who has fallen victim to some grave physical trauma? And why is the absurdity of the first example -- of disgust, ridicule, judgment, and self-righteousness -- so often the undeniable instinct from one Christian to another who has fallen victim to some grave spiritual trauma - some great sin? I think the answer is in the question. Both the woman lying twisted and bloody, half-leaning against the very obstacle she was so powerless against and the self-righteous jerk standing in the street issuing ridicule and judgment are at that moment suffering from the very same condition.