We are really good at pointing fingers.

We are really not good at looking in the mirror. Well, at least not objectively.

I have mentioned this before but perhaps one of the wisest statements in the past century or more was purportedly made by British writer, journalist, and philosopher G.K. Chesterton. I have a number of his books which are quite profound and full of insight. Perhaps his most famous and oft-sited quote, however, is perfect in its brevity.

In response to The Times of London posing the question to a number of famous authors around 1908, “What is wrong with the world?,” Chesterton wrote back: “Dear Sirs: I am.”

A number of deep truths lie at the heart of Christianity. This is certainly one of them.

I bring this up because almost all I see these days are fingers (pointing). Almost never mirrors (reflecting).

This is challenging on a number of levels, some not so hard to understand and some very hard. I’ll try to unpack that.

On a rather surface level, it’s obvious that our days are punctuated by accusing fingers all of the time. The media (whether mass media or more specialized forms of relaying information) are wholly built around the art of accusation and its twin, self-aggrandizement. TV, radio, and the internet are full of one-upmanship in the mad scramble to point out the flaws of others. This hyper-magnification builds intensity into a virtual snowballing until differences overwhelm any sense of connectivity. We are surrounded by enemies.

In this highly charged environment, labels take on lives of their own and individuals are damned by association. Inherent biases become increasingly exaggerated, rather than calmly considered. I have studied prejudice and the various means by which prejudice is both intensified and remediated. When we feel attacked, few constructive solutions are possible.

Charlottesville provides an excellent example. A fringe group whose actual numbers are of no real consequence gains a highly public platform to demonstrate their fear and hatred. Of course, they feel completely justified as they believe their thinking is under attack. Most all of society is repulsed by their platform of racial superiority. Interspersed in their numbers are symbols representing terror and genocide. Their fingers are pointing, loudly and clearly.

A loose coalition of others gather to oppose them. This coalition has its own symbols, coalescing around the concept of anti. Anti this and anti that. Anti racism. Anti Trump. Anti sexism and so forth. Their fingers are pointing, loudly and clearly.

Each feels justified. The tiniest spark is needed to ignite the conflagration that is entirely predictable, especially in light of the current state of affairs. So many symbols. So many fighting words. So much finger pointing and rationalization.

Our team colors are now courtesy of Fox News or CNN. Rush Limbaugh or the New York Times. A cacophony of noise, all critical and all self-righteous.

The fingers point like a dagger to the heart. The mirror just tells us we’re beautiful.

Lest I be misunderstood, I will say again that there is such a thing as righteous anger. There is such a thing as evil, to which we are called to oppose. But, the terrible danger is that this anger grabs ahold and turns into contempt and I, for one, believe contempt is never righteous. In fact, it is ruinous to the core.

There is a deeper layer to this and it is where Chesterton and the Gospel go. It demands a great deal of effort, far more effort than it takes to lash out with accusation. As such it is far more rare, although made noteworthy by those who we now hail for their unmatched moral leadership … people such as King and Gandhi, Bonhoeffer and Mother Theresa. There is no question but that these and others like them were familiar with their mirrors.

When the self-righteous one looks into the mirror, as I just said, he or she sees something to be very prideful of. This is another way of describing a sense of personal beauty. The natural response, of course, is to sally forth, open the door to the outside and point the finger at others.

When the humble one looks in the mirror, he or she sees a mixture of things, including many flaws that are actually fingers pointing inwards. This is impossible for the narcissist but a matter of course for the self-reflective and the penitent.

This is where life is lived as quick to love, slow to judge. When Jesus gave us the seemingly impossible task of loving our enemies, he didn’t mean we had to countenance their behavior. He didn’t mean we could not be angry with them. What he meant was that we needed to (as the late wise Dallas Willard defined love), “will their good.” And the word “will” is very different in scale from words such as “want” or “seek” or even “strive for.” An act of will is to be laser focused on using the resources at our disposal to make something happen. Willing the good of another cannot be accomplished with a contemptuous heart. Willing the good of another cannot be accomplished while hurling accusations. For, and here is where the rubber hits the road, the “good” of another is the place where they know they are unconditionally loved and are able to love others freely. It is a liberating place, not a place of burden.

When we see ourselves objectively, as God sees us, we know we are deeply flawed and deeply loved. We know that we are far more likely to be quick to judge and slow to love as we are focused on our own self-interests. We know that we actually create and follow all sorts of idols … idols whose symbols are everywhere and call to us for attention and allegiance. Political parties and ideologies. Material things. Larger than life people to whom we ascribe great importance due to some ability they have, say in sports or entertainment. When we recognize that we hold ourselves and our desires up as of great importance, to the neglect of the good of others (even those to whom we sincerely disagree), we understand the seeds of our own undoing. Christians will refer to this as understanding our basic sinful nature … a concept increasingly out of favor in the west. And, see where that is taking us.

Chesterton nailed it.

“Mirror Mirror on the wall, who is the basest of them all?”

I am.

To be clear, I don’t mean this literally as in “I am the worst of the worst”. That’s not what the mirror says. It says “how well do you think you hold up against Holy?” The honest response is “not well and I need help. A lot of help.” Or, “I am that prodigal who strays constantly, for which I humbly ask for forgiveness and help to improve.”

But, it gets worse.

This morning, we were reading chapter 5 in the Book of Isaiah, the famous Hebrew prophet. It was not light reading. To say it was convicting would be an understatement. Some New Testament Christians who don’t want to consider the holiness of God (which is an expression of both love and truth or justice) would rather jump right to forgiveness of sins and the promise of salvation, through the life and death of Jesus. Well enough but it’s worth hitting the pause button and to consider these verses, Isaiah 5:20-21:

Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter. Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes and clever in their own sight.

Now this is getting very interesting. If the problem, first and foremost, is me not them and I am aware of my own (deep) flaws, there’s a tendency to stop right there.

I’d like to take this slowly. Because the very wise Isaiah pulls no punches. He doesn’t let up an iota.

To review: The modern mind and, certainly, prevailing culture, says I’m always right when it feels right. That’s called moral relativism. Many people live their lives here. The Judeo-Christian tradition, upon which western civilization is built (flaws and all), says there is objective good and evil that transcend personal inclinations. Committed believers in the Judeo-Christian God get that we are all flawed in God’s eyes in that we put many things before him, among other things. The mirror actually tells us this when we’re honest about it.

But the mirror doesn’t tell us the really difficult piece and so we are left off the hook. And, that is what Isaiah is saying.

This is no superficial cut into the immediate surface of our being. This is a deep rift that is hidden in the interior. It is the fact that we call evil good.

I asked a rhetorical question today of myself and the other handful of men who travel thusly early on Monday mornings: If we had five minutes to write down the various ways we call evil good, what would we write?

There was silence, as one would expect. At that moment, I did not know what I would write, although I knew I must find out. If, indeed, the human heart is the repository of evil, none of us is immune … nod to Chesterton. But evil is more insidious than just a motivator to think or act poorly. It is the great deceiver. It is one thing to recognize that what we think and do is wrong. It’s another thing to recognize that we can call that thing right.

One man asked the excellent question of how we can know this thing. How, indeed? If we think it’s good and we believe we’re on solid moral ground, how are we to know otherwise? To borrow from a well-known saying in legal circles, “He who represents himself has a fool for a client.” We are just not effective being our own therapists. And, truly, it is therapy we need. Therapy to bring light from darkness and to know the difference as it was formerly hidden from view.

Now, biblical scholars contend that the word “woe” in scripture is more than a common dictionary definition of great sorrow or distress. Instead, it signifies something akin to doom. Sweet, kind and loving Jesus uses it more times than is found anywhere else in the Bible. In other words, woe is a warning as stark as they come.

I recognize that some people who read these musings are not as enamored of the Bible as others. So, such an “in your face” admonishment may not carry the same weight. Regardless, Isaiah must give us great pause to reflect upon his words.

Many things, such as money, sex and anger should probably be classified as morally neutral. They are, set apart, neither good nor bad but fixtures of living. It is in the application that they take on the character of good or evil. When the pursuit of wealth begins to darken a lens to the sufferings around us … when the lusts of the flesh begin to mask the giving of self to a loved one … when our anger grabs ahold, morphing into contempt … when these and other similar things are considered good, then the message is, woe unto us.

As one of my friends said this morning, it starts very simply. The really small things are rationalized as fine or even good. It is here the deceit begins. And, once it gains a foothold, there is a slippery slope, hence Chesterton and Isaiah.

Another friend asked, “How can we avoid this? How can we know?” This is a great and worthy question. As our time wrapped up, we concluded that it’s important to give one or more others permission to peer into our souls and to call out that which needs exposure. We need the mirror to have voice and insight beyond our own. In the Christian framework, we recognize that the Holy Spirit works through others to whom we submit.

For the atheist, perhaps this is all still relevant to help center us and to teach humility, empathy and compassion. In that regard, the woe can be read as a cautionary against common excesses. To the follower of Jesus, though, it is a clarion call.

I’ll conclude with this. Yesterday, a person new to my acquaintance by the name of Paul Kim was speaking to a large group about how to respond to Charlottesville. I loved his reflection as it both called out the situation accurately in its mire yet also pointed to hope. He called out the violence and degradation, the submission of so many to the symbols and ideologies that breed hate. Towards the end, he made the quip that we should not put our faith in donkeys and elephants, the symbols of mighty political parties. Instead, we should put our faith in the Lion and the Lamb.

His was not a call to inaction or passivity. In fact it was a call to vibrant action. But the draw is towards Justice and Love and he who perfectly exemplifies both. Dive into life with the Lion and the Lamb and behold.

Let’s lower our finger and invite the mirror inside. The mirror that knows us more deeply than we can imagine. The mirror that teaches and prunes and shapes and calls us to be something truly exceptional. The mirror that can work upon our hearts and change our minds. The journey from woe to hope is not an easy one but it is full of beauty and promise. We have the roadmap. We just need to get started.