A Speck In My Eye?

Years ago, I produced a borrowed skit to begin a workshop entitled: "building relationships."  All light would be removed from the room.  A person then would come through the door with a strong beamed flashlight, intently pointing it around the edges of the room. In a few moments would drop to his/her hands and knees, crawling, peering and probing the lighted area.  After a few moments I would tap the all four searcher on the shoulder and ask the obvious question: "Did you lose some­thing?"

"Yes," the person replied. "I have lost my keys."

Gently I would get down on my hands and knees, as well, and join in the search without saying a word.  When I sensed the tension rising among the workshop participants, I stood and with a bit of agitation in my voice asked:  "Are you absolutely certain this is where you lost your keys? We've covered every inch."

"No, I don't think so," the fellow would reply, matter-of-factly, pointing to a corner right by the door. "I lost them over there."

I would use a visibly shaken voice and exclaim,  "Well, then why in the name of all heaven are we looking all over the rest of this room." 

The man would respond with equal annoyance: "Isn't that obvious? The light is better over here with my flashlight!"

I was trying to enact a subtle point as to the content of what we would consider during the seminar or workshop. Have I forgotten that it is much faster and prudent to limit my examination of life's missing keys to easy, comfortable places? My thinking is, like most modern parables, the skit registered an illogic common to most. Searching dark and difficult corners—where the keys may have in fact been lost—is far less desirable.

Somewhere between my reading of belittling headlines of a once-popular celebrity and hearing an open invitation to weigh-in on the latest political scandal on social media, I sit here wondering if the skit didn't register something a little bit more. I think it's become increasingly difficult to avoid the signs that I am living in a world of criticism. I'm bombarded if not badgered by all facets of the media to examine the flaws of everyone, to search for the scandal in every new story, and to pour over everything that divides my heart, my friends and people in general.  Anything that offends me, or otherwise differs from me or my thoughts, faith, or ideology in any way.  

But even more than this, I find I'm being encouraged to opine and criticize regardless of whether I know anything about the subject or person whatsoever. All I have to do is reference, right now, most online news articles and there it is: a section for comments where I or anyone else are invited to put our own remarks in writing. Here is one avenue I've not gone down or crossed a lane but there are hundreds of thousands that have.  Comment they do. The long list of critics offers thoughts on anything from the topic, to the author, to things completely unrelated. Carrying this one step further, I see where Amazon not only invites anyone to be an official book reviewer; they also invite anyone to comment on these comments, to vote on whether or not the reviewers themselves need to be critiqued. I confess there has been a handful of occasions I have appreciated one or more of these services, but for the most part, the attitude they endorse seems so pervasive. Everyone is now a critic and an expert at once. 

And this is where the seeker in the sketch seems unquestionably familiar. How easy is it to search where the light is strong, to examine the faults and scandals of others as if it were the best place to logically spend my time? As the light of the media shines on an individual or the light of gossip draws my attention like  searchlights to a grand opening, how easy is it to declare this particular spot the place I will fully scrutinize? How readily do I prefer to be a critic of those in the spotlight rather than fumble over my own flaws in the dark?

Realizing that the season of Lent begins this next week, and that there are going to be plenty of opportunity for self-examination, I want to keep in mind that Jesus is aware of just how tempting the option of the easier route is. "Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own? ... You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." Yes, nothing will change as too the flaws I see in pop-stars, politicians, and people in general.  I'm sure they will continue being startling clear to me. The critiques and opinions I can so readily offer about books and public scandal, internal gossip and things about which I actually know little all may seem innocent enough. But might there not be a better place to spend my energy searching? Maybe I ought to look where the light is strong, but not where the keys are really lost. 

An old proverb explains, "The mocker seeks wisdom and finds none, but knowledge comes easily to the discerning."

Father, God, I'm convicted this morning of not spending my time searching the uncomfortable places of this life, unlike those places of easy targets where light and company can always be found. Rather, those difficult, dimly-lit places requiring much more of me, all by myself, all alone searching and seeking to understand.  Jesus, thank You for the sending of The Holy Spirit that guides me into discernment.  I need to become more wise.  May He help me become the kind of seeker that pulls himself inward.  Into the places where there is actually something to find, and before a throne that compels transparency; my heart and soul. There I know from experience is the place where I will discover myself. Afresh!  Where the dark corners of my heart and soul will be changed by the light of Christ's life, death and resurrection.  Amen