Sometimes I Weep

Sometimes it just makes me want to cry. Okay, sometimes it does make me cry.

I cry for those who, thinking they're being broad-minded, are so open-minded that their brains have leaked out. They're blinded by the god of this world, convinced that God is evil and evil is good, judgmental of all who they deem judgmental, and self-righteous about being self-righteous. They know that what they do is immoral, but redefine "moral" to encompass what they do and dare anyone to question them on it. They are quick to quote Scripture -- "Judge not, that you be not judged" -- while they ignore Scripture. They are quick to take up others' objections without having examined the objections themselves. And they argue themselves into direct conflict with the Creator. That's the really sad part. They shake their fists in the face of the One who can kill the soul. They work hard to do what they consider good while they are earning a healthy dose of death. But if I warn them, if I mention it, if I point it out, I'm a hater. If I try to tell them, "The bridge ahead on the road you're on is out," I'm a sure recipient of their animosity.

I cry for the innoculated, those who tell me, "Yeah, I tried that born-again thing; it didn't work." I cry for so many who are lying in a wet spot of spiritualism without ever being immersed in Christ and think they're fine. "I go to church; what more do you want?" "I believe in Jesus; leave me alone." The mere suggestion that a changed heart produces a changed life is anathema to them. "Pharisee! Legalist! Get thee behind me, Satan!" And they cannot hear the reality of their genuine need for Christ because they already have that, right? So they sit in that hot frying pan cooking away unwilling to heed your warnings that they are in danger because they already have all the Jesus they need, thank you very much, and perhaps a little too much if you ask them.

I cry for the well-meaning, misguided Christians who pound their proverbial (if not literal) chests and bemoan the eve-ills (because they don't quite call it "evil" ... there's a different sound to the word, it seems) of homosexuality (or whatever other pet peeve they may have). They are swift with their righteous indignation and eager to beat back the satanic tide. The notion, however, of actually loving those who are involved isn't there. The genuine concern for the well-being of those engaged in activities that engender God's wrath doesn't seem to exist. They are as venomous as the vipers that faced Christ with their self-righteousness -- and they stand there in the name of Christ -- but the command is "love God" and "love your neighbor", not "beat them into submission so that all the world will conform to your moral view." They are personally affronted that someone might sin while they fail to recognize their own certain sin, the log jutting painfully out of their eyes. (Maybe that's what makes them so angry?) I want to cry out, "Wake up! God is not in the business of making bad people into good people. The problem is that these are dead people and they desperately need to hear from a fellow sinner that there is hope and an answer to their dilemma!" But they won't hear it. "That's right! Those evil sinners need Jesus!" as they spit on the sidewalk and cross on the other side of the road.

Sometimes. Sometimes it makes me weep. Other times I'm too overwhelmed with my own shortcomings, my own failings, my own sin to worry about anyone else's. But in those times I can rejoice because I know a Savior who has paid the price. And in those moments I weep ... for joy.