Annoyance, Weapon, or Gift?
Dave Faust
Some see guilt as an annoyance.
Movie star Angelina Jolie said, "I don't believe in guilt. I believe in living on impulse as long as you never intentionally hurt another person and don't judge people in your life. I think you should live completely free." This point of view may sound appealing, but when followed to its logical end it leads only to selfishness and anarchy.
Others use guilt as a weapon.
Jesus' enemies accused him of guilt by association. Since he ate with tax collectors and sinners, they reasoned he must be evil himself. He allowed a woman with a bad reputation to wet his feet with her tears and dry them with her hair. They concluded he must have been guilty of sin if he was willing to associate with people like these.
They also accused him of guilt by insinuation. He permitted his disciples to pick grain and eat it on the Sabbath. Weren't they showing disrespect for God's holy day? His disciples didn't follow all the rules for ceremonial hand-washing. Why did they disregard the tradition of the elders?
When these accusations didn't stick, Jesus' enemies pulled out the heavy artillery and applied guilt by intimidation. On the threat of death, they demanded, "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly." When Jesus responded, "I and the Father are one," they picked up stones to kill him, for they considered him guilty of blasphemy for claiming equality with God (John 10:24-33).
Those who use guilt as a weapon fail to distinguish between the Word of God and the traditions of men. They impose harsh religious rules even in areas where the Bible is silent. They are freedom stealers and joy quenchers, using guilt to beat others into compliance with their points of view. They are hypocrites because they're oblivious to their own sin while they demand high standards of others. And they are hypercrites—hyper critical, judgmental, impossible to please.
Certainly guilt has been misused, but when rightly understood it also can be a healthy response to the reality of our spiritual condition.
Healthy guilt is a gift. It's not something we impose on others; it's an authentic sense of moral accountability we experience in the depths of our own hearts—and it motivates us to change our ways.
Healthy guilt isn't a neurotic response to manmade rules; it's the natural response of a repentant sinner to the holy Word of God.
Healthy guilt doesn't cower before overly-demanding parents or authoritarian religious leaders; it springs from authentic conviction spawned by the Holy Spirit.
Healthy guilt doesn't drive us to the depths of despair; it drives us to the throne of grace where we find its only true remedy in the blood of Christ. There with our sins forgiven, we can "draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience" (Hebrews 10:19-22).
Sinless Jesus took our guilt with him to Calvary. "He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed" (1 Peter 2:24). Our guilt before God is real, but so is the gift of God's grace that takes it away.
This column first appeared in The Lookout on Aug 26, 2007.
Ancient Boundaries
A father and his young son are taking a late-afternoon walk through the hills of ancient Judea. The rocky countryside abounds with simple treasures to delight the curious boy. He stoops to pick up a shiny piece of quartz, then a scratchy chunk of sandstone. As they walk along, the father speaks approvingly of King Solomon's recent accomplishments, and chuckles as his son trips lightly over a large gray rock. Brushing himself off, the lad begins to push the stone aside.
Anticipated Location
I have been a sports fan as long as I can remember. When my brothers and I were boys, we loved it when Dad loaded us into the car on a summer evening and drove to Cincinnati to watch the Reds play. Nothing looked greener to my young eyes than the emerald grass of old Crosley Field, and nothing tasted better than a ballpark hotdog on a steamed bun with plenty of mustard.