Why do you see the speck...?

Today we read in our Gospel the story of the Samaritan woman at the well. As I thought about this text this week, I was reminded of this question from Jesus--why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye but not the log in your own? 

Why is the first word in this question.  It is tempting to skip along and think about my neighbor's behavior and how it draws my attention. But, that would evade the question. WHY do I see the speck?  Because it is easier to look over there than to look in the mirror. Because as long as I am focused on what you are doing wrong/right/differently then I don't have to be focused on what I am doing.  Because looking at your speck makes me feel superior. Because as long as I am focused on your speck I can look past my own log.

Sadly, we've made this sort of vision the norm in most of our churches. Somehow by entering a faith community, I suppose myself to be of a higher standard, a more superior place than "them." I can watch others, broken, sinful, and struggling and somehow judge myself less critically. Or, I can look at others and wonder why I am not like them, not as sure and certain, good or whole as they are. 

So many people who find a faith community daunting, sick, hostile, or unnecessary are those who have been held hostage by bad theology or the judgement of others. Sometimes so-called good people of faith are best  at holding hostages and even torturing them. Sadly, it happens every day.  When we are vulnerable, unsure, or wearied by the log in our own eye, we project our anger and frustration on others.  We scapegoat those who are different or those who do not conform to our assimilated culture.  

One of the top reasons that young people cite for the church being hypocritical is because it is viewed as a holding chamber for intolerant and often downright mean people. If our fig tree is not blossoming, it will be cut down.  Jesus said, "make the tree good and its fruit good" (Matthew 12:33) "for grapes are not borne by thorns nor figs by thistles."

What if we stopped focusing on our neighbor's speck and focused on getting over our own log?  What would life be like if we lived into our own way of perfection?  What would happen if I gave everyone I met the benefit of the doubt?  

What if I stopped acting as if the world revolved around me and stopped putting that log in the middle of all my relationships? Do I use my log as a barrier of protection? Have I grown so accustomed to my log that I cannot fathom the vulnerability and freedom of removing it?  Have I built my own special fort there with a "members only" sign on the door?

What is clouding my vision or blocking my path?  Most of the time the answer is me: my fear, my doubts, my insecurities, and my frustrations.  How are these questions transforming me?  

In Lent we are challenged to find the courage to seek that which may be on the other side of that log.  The questions we ask are gradually giving us the tools to clear the path, enjoy the walk, and seek a different horizon.  

Today, at the Baptism of a young man in our church, we will reaffirm our most basic and profound faith commitments. Can we say them with vigor and passion, "yes, with God's help!" or will we hold back and guard our hearts? Come Lord Jesus, remove the logs in our lives, bring reconciliation and living water into the dry and parched places of our lives.