If the Bible is true then, first, we’re all guilty of inflicting suffering, and, second, we’re all the victims of injustice.  If we believe the first, it follows that we would be humble, not eager to judge others.  If we believe the second, it follows that everyone is deserving of some sympathy.  Obscure either and you’re already within the boundaries of hypocrisy.

What bothers me is that people seem convinced that humility and sympathy won’t work, that God needs heavy-handed people in order to get anything done, that the way to be more like Jesus is to humiliate sinners.  We rail against spiritual struggles as if they are (a) abnormal and (b) the greatest danger we face.  But our treatment may be doing as much damage as the disease.  Our failure or inadequacy or faithlessness don’t diminish God’s goodness.  All they do is make it more difficult to perceive it.

Harry Blamires put it like this:

It is absurd to regard faith as the ticket to an otherworldly region of thought and contemplation which can be withdrawn, cancelled, or lost in a flash.  Nevertheless the passport and the gift of faith do have one thing is common.  If you lose either, you alone are the loser.  International airlines continue to operate even though you can no longer travel on them.  And neither the history of Israel, nor the gospel revelation, nor the long chronicle of the Church’s life and growth will evaporate when you lose your faith.

In other words, God is love, He is worthy, He is sufficient, and He has a long track record of it, whether I embrace Him or not.  I’d rather embrace Him.  If I refuse his grace, the loss is mine.

He doesn’t need me to fight his battles.  But I need Him to fight mine.  Those are fairly essential realities.  And I need people who help me remember them.  The world has an overabundance of people who do the opposite.  They’re all about fighting God’s battles.  And they don’t mind causing collateral damage.

When I am mired in a bog of bitterness God’s goodness hasn’t gone away; my ability to perceive it has.  What I desperately need at that point is not someone telling me how bad I should feel.  Bad is what I am feeling already.  Magnifying the bad is the opposite of what I need.  What a bitter person desperately needs is the grace of a Savior—grace to understand, grace to overcome, grace that doesn’t keep poking the bruise, grace that offers an alternative.

Jesus embodied grace.  He is image of it.  If his way is the way God’s goodness gets spread, I am grateful for people who have noticed.