Dirty Saints

  Jesus isn't that hard to find, you see. And when you find Him, He's loving, and caring, and kind.

  So why do people doubt His existence? Why do they scoff and scorn and mock Christianity?

  You know, I've been convicted.

  I don't think it's His fault. All the time.

  I think it's mostly our fault. Christians with planks in their eyes who swing swords of harsh words and bitter remarks. 

  Oh dear Lord, how easy it is to rebuke! How much harder it is to give mercy and compassion. Our fingers point with judgement, but we are called to be saints, are we not? Yet how often do you see a saint with dirty hands and dirty heart, filthied by the caked mud of sin? 

  Let me not be the cause of a stumbling brother. Let him see Christ when he looks at me. Let him not see sinful, ordinary, black-hearted-from-sin me. Because in the end, when people look at us, we're transparent. 

  They say the eyes are stain-glass windows to the soul. 

  When people look in your windows, does the light of Christ shine out, blinding them with His goodness, His love, His kindness, His compassion? Or are your eyes filled with planks of wood as you hastily rebuke your brother to remove the splinter from his own?

  Though it may be easy to focus on others wrong doing, I find it convicting to focus on your own. You're not perfect. And Christ in His love and mercy knew that. So what makes you, saint, any different from the sinner? 

  You've both been muddied by sin. Christ has simply stopped to wipe off your dirt before moving on to the next filthy sinner. 

  You did nothing. 

  Stop pretending you did.