Alright, so this morning I was scrolling through comments on my last post – big mistake, I know – and man, some folks just love to tear others down. Saw one person basically calling another an idiot over a simple difference of opinion. Got me feeling all grumpy with my coffee.
I remembered that story from John chapter 8, verses 1 to 9. You know the one? Where the religious leaders drag this woman caught in adultery before Jesus, demanding she be stoned according to the law. And Jesus just… bends down and starts writing in the dirt? Weird move, right? Always puzzled me. Finally decided, screw it, let’s actually dig into this ancient story and see what it throws back at me right now. Grabbed my beat-up Bible and a fresh notebook.
Letting the Words Hit Me Fresh
Started reading it real slow. These guys bringing the woman… they weren’t interested in justice, not really. They were trying to trap Jesus. Cold move. Then Jesus famously says, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Still writing in the dirt. And then… everybody just leaves? Starting with the old guys? That detail always gets me. One by one, peacing out. Didn’t expect that.
Sat there for a minute. Felt pretty heavy. The leaders were so quick to condemn this woman, all puffed up. But Jesus didn’t play their game. He forced them to look inward. They couldn’t do it. Walked away in silence. And Jesus? Didn’t condemn her either, but told her straight: “Go and sin no more.” No sugarcoating, but also no pile-on.
Connecting the (Painfully Obvious) Dots
Driving later, stuck in traffic. This guy cut me off, super aggressive move. My immediate internal reaction? Full-on judge mode. “What a jerk! Idiot driver!” Felt that heat, you know? But then… boom. The John 8 scene flashed in my head. Hypocrisy alert! I’m sitting here judging this dude hard, while fuming at people judging other people in comments just hours earlier? I was doing the exact same thing!
Like those religious leaders pointing their fingers at the woman, I was pointing my mental finger at the driver. Meanwhile, I cut people off in traffic sometimes. I say dumb stuff. I get impatient. Who the heck am I to call this guy out? That stung. Bad.
Realized how stupid easy it is to see other people’s screw-ups. It’s like automatic. Focusing on someone else’s failure distracts me from my own mess. It feels kinda good, honestly, for a second. Makes me feel superior. But it’s poison.
The Tough Part – Actually Trying to Stop
Okay, awareness sucks sometimes. Now what? Practically speaking? It’s like trying to retrain a reflex. Here’s what I tried today:
- Caught Myself Mid-Judge: Saw an argument unfold online about some celebrity’s dumb decision. Felt the familiar “Ugh, so stupid” forming. Paused. Asked myself: “What flaw am I ignoring in myself while I fixate on theirs?” Yeah. No quick answer. Made me shut up and scroll past.
- Asked “Why the Stones?”: When I felt that urge to pile on someone (didn’t post it, just felt it!), I tried the Jesus question: “Am I actually without sin in this specific area? Could I throw the first stone?” The answer was always NO. Always. Stopped me cold every time.
- Changed the Channel: Instead of stewing on the guy who cut me off, I blasted some music I love. Switched my focus. The anger faded quicker.
Honest Takeaways from Today’s Messy Practice
- Judging others? It’s addictive. Seriously. Gives a quick hit of feeling “better than.” But like junk food, it leaves you feeling worse after.
- Jesus flipping the script – asking the finger-pointers to look at themselves instead – is still insanely powerful. It stops the judgment cycle dead if you let it.
- Being aware of the hypocritical impulse is step zero. Actually stopping it in real-time? That’s brutal. Requires constant, annoying vigilance.
- It doesn’t mean ignoring harmful stuff or becoming a doormat. It just means removing the log from your own eye before pointing out the speck elsewhere. Tackling my flaws feels way more productive than obsessing over others’ flaws.
End of the day? I still judged people. I’m imperfect. But noticing it more? That’s something. Feeling that internal squirm when I spot my own hypocrisy? That’s progress. Not easy, but feels real. This story’s truth bites hard. Gotta keep practicing.
