The Mirror Not the Binoculars: Finding Humility in God's Law

The Mirror, Not the Binoculars: Finding Humility in God's Law

There's something deeply uncomfortable about looking in a mirror—really looking. We catch glimpses of ourselves throughout the day, quick assessments before heading out the door. But stopping, examining, truly seeing ourselves? That requires courage most of us don't naturally possess.

Yet this is precisely what God's Word asks of us.

The Danger of the Binoculars

It's remarkably easy to turn God's law into a set of binoculars. We peer through them, scanning the landscape of humanity, identifying the sins and shortcomings of everyone around us. That coworker who cuts corners. That neighbor whose lifestyle choices seem questionable. That political party whose values appear so obviously misguided.

The problem with binoculars? You can't see yourself.

Romans 2 confronts this tendency with startling directness: "Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgment on another, you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things."

Notice the shift. Romans 1 speaks of "they"—those who have turned from God, who no longer honor Him or give thanks. It's easy to nod along with that assessment, mentally cataloging the people who fit that description. But then comes chapter 2, and the pronoun changes. "You." Not them. You.

This isn't just about the obviously sinful. This is about the moralistic hypocrite—the person who knows right from wrong, who can quote scripture and identify transgression, but who fails to apply that same scrutiny to their own heart.

The Richness of God's Kindness

Here's a question worth pondering: Have you ever considered the richness of God's kindness?

Not just His kindness in general, but the *richness* of it—the abundance, the overflow, the more-than-enough quality that characterizes everything God does. Romans 2:4 asks, "Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God's kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?"

We misunderstand God's patience at our peril. When we continue in sin and judgment doesn't immediately fall, we make a fatal error: we assume God doesn't care. We interpret His forbearance as permission rather than recognizing it for what it truly is—an invitation to repentance.

God's kindness is purposeful, not permissive.

If God operated without patience, without mercy, without that rich kindness, what would happen when we sinned? The answer is sobering. We'd be gone. Immediately. But God, in His infinite wisdom and love, gives us time. He waits. He extends opportunity after opportunity for us to recognize our need, to turn from our sin, to humble ourselves before Him.

The Tragedy of the Hard Heart

Persistent rationalization makes our hearts hard. It's a gradual process, almost imperceptible. We justify one small compromise, then another. We compare ourselves to others and find ourselves wanting—but only in comparison to them, not to God's standard.

Maybe it's how we handle our finances, cutting corners on our taxes year after year. Maybe it's the gossip we engage in, rationalized because "we're just concerned." Maybe it's the unfaithfulness in small things that we've convinced ourselves don't really count.

If an audit were conducted on your life—not just financially, but examining your attitudes, actions, and thoughts—would it bring glory to God?

The moralistic person judges their righteousness by looking around. "At least I'm better than those people. I haven't done what they've done." But we're never supposed to draw our righteousness from being more righteous than someone else. The mirror is the law of God, the character of God. How do we measure up to that standard?

Two Men, Two Prayers

Jesus told a parable that cuts to the heart of this issue. Two men went to the temple to pray—a Pharisee and a tax collector.

The Pharisee stood and prayed, "God, I thank you that I'm not like other men—extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week. I give tithes of all that I get."

The tax collector, standing far off, wouldn't even lift his eyes to heaven. He beat his breast and said simply, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner."

Jesus' conclusion? "I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted."

The difference wasn't in their actions or even in their knowledge of God's law. The difference was in their posture before God—one self-righteous, the other broken and humble.

What Your Works Reveal

Your works reveal what you worship. It's an uncomfortable truth, but an important one.

What do you do with your time? Where does your money go? Who do you spend your days with? What do you allow into your mind through your eyes and ears? These aren't neutral questions. They're diagnostic tools that reveal what truly holds first place in your life.

Worship comes in many forms, and it's not always what happens on Sunday morning. Worship is whatever takes the place of God in our lives, whatever we build our days around, whatever commands our ultimate allegiance and attention.

Imagine if your children, after you're gone, looked through your checkbook, your calendar, your commitments. What would they conclude about what you worshiped? Would they have no doubt that you loved God and desired to honor Him with your life?

The Path Forward

True repentance flows from gratitude. When we begin to grasp the richness of God's grace, the depth of His patience, the abundance of His forbearance, something shifts in us. We're not driven to repentance by fear alone, but by overwhelming gratitude for a God who would pursue us, wait for us, and extend mercy we don't deserve.

The invitation is to humble ourselves before God, to ask His Holy Spirit to search us thoroughly, to reveal those places where we've been judgmental toward others while harboring similar sin in our own hearts. To stop being concerned primarily with the sins of those who don't know God and start being concerned with the sin that exists in our own lives.

This requires agreeing with God about our sin—not minimizing it, not rationalizing it, not comparing ourselves favorably to others, but simply agreeing: "Yes, God, this is sin. I see it now. I ask for Your forgiveness and Your transforming power."

God shows no partiality. It doesn't matter what your last name is, what your background includes, or how you compare to others. All are guilty before Him, and all are invited to find righteousness not in themselves, but in Christ alone.

The question isn't whether we're better than someone else. The question is whether we're humble enough to see ourselves clearly and honest enough to admit what we find.

Put down the binoculars. Pick up the mirror. And let God's kindness lead you to repentance.