Offends

Who can tell how often he offends? cleanse me from my secret faults. 

 - From Psalm 19

On Facebook, I get into discussions hosted by a particular academic from a Christian college. His background is journalism. I first met him when he was the editor of my denomination's weekly magazine. 

He considers himself an "evangelical," but has striven to cultivate an online image of "centrist" and "Clever purveyor of wit."

Of course, the "centrist" part means "liberal," and the "wit" is far too often presented in the form of cutting sarcasm and inflammatory ridicule. Ostensibly, he cares about such issues as the breakdown of morality and the family in western culture; but he has lost that focus, by being caught up in hate-Trump hysteria. 

He cannot be reasoned with. He ignores Scriptures that may challenge him. He does not listen to any dissent. He does not care that he is making himself unapproachable to many. He does not consider the (true) proposition that he may be wrong. 

The Psalmist took care of this contingency. 

He says . . . 

I don't even know how frequently I offend others. But I do not want to offend others. The hurts that I cause, unwittingly, are too numerous to mention. They are sins I commit against others. They are secret sins, for even I do not even know when I commit them.

Tone of voice. Inelegant phrasing. Poor timing. Lack of awareness of what's going on in someone else's life.

We have no idea, the extent to which we are snares in the spiritual growth of others. We not only impede, but we reverse forward movement. We cause others to backslide and lose faith!!

A Facebook friend, just this week, has decided to air out deeply-rooted bitterness against her parents, about things that happened twenty years ago! Her Dad has long since attempted to apologize for some harmful decisions he made, when she was a teenager. He was desperate for ways to address some serious emotional problems within her, that had made life Hell for her parents and siblings. 

Venting is helpful. But this person has chosen to do so in the glare of the lights of social media. As her Dad advances towards his eighth decade, she seems determined to send him to his final years in pain and intense grief. 

Cleanse me from secret faults . . . the horrible things that I do to others, unwittingly, with good intentions. I can't help myself.

We need to start caring, when we offend others. Stop thinking about ourselves so much. 

The world is coming unglued. And it most certainly is due, largely, to offense, and secret sins.