We tend to justify for ourselves things we condemn in others.

I heard a story of a man who had made unhealthy choices, and knowing these choices were unloving to a close friend, he confessed.  Upon realizing what he had been doing, the friend became deeply upset, and spent time venting and processing with others, who also grew upset with the man.  One left to find someone they knew, demanding they confess any unspoken missteps as well.  She wanted to be sure that there was nothing harmful in the shadows of their relationship, and put the other on the hot seat.

The problem is, in that moment she failed to recognize that the very missteps the man had made, she had made as well with her friend.  In her moment of frustration with the man, she condemned his actions while justifying (or ignoring) her own, along the way confronting someone who was not only innocent, but wounded themselves.

We have this unfortunate condition within us; our self-preservation response is so engrained that we will rewrite narratives to protect ourselves from harm, even as we harm others.

Jesus saw this in his time:

“Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. As he began the settlement, a man who owed him ten thousand bags of gold (about 20 years wages) was brought to him. Since he was not able to pay, the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt.

“At this the servant fell on his knees before him. ‘Be patient with me,’ he begged, ‘and I will pay back everything.’ The servant’s master took pity on him, canceled the debt and let him go.

“But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred silver coins (about 100 days wages.) He grabbed him and began to choke him. ‘Pay back what you owe me!’ he demanded.

“His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay it back.’

“But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt.
Matthew 18:23-30

The man who owed more justified his failure to pay — he just needed more time — but vilified someone in the same (but significantly lesser) situation — choking and imprisoning him.  His self-preservation kept him from owning that he had done far worse but been forgiven as he thought of the hundred coins he was owed.  Even worse, he failed to see the humanity of his peer who said the same words he himself had pleaded not long before.

We can assume we would not do this, but we follow his steps often.  We will cut in front of someone because we are late for work, but shout at the person who cuts us off; defend forgetting a meeting because life is busy, but rebuke the person that’s late to our event.  We will believe we deserve a pass while reprimanding those doing the same.

Our self-preservation is powerful; as Jeremiah 17:9 puts it, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.  Who can understand it?“

In fact, this can cause us to harm those we love.  All of us make missteps that can impact others, but when called out we can become defensive:

“How dare you accuse me of that?”  “You’re mistaken.”  “You’re making too big a deal of this.”  “I didn’t do it on purpose, so let it go.”

The other person can become a problem in our mind because they seem to be pushing a narrative about us that doesn’t match our own.

However, if we were getting coffee with a close friend and they recounted someone doing the same missteps with them, we would not dismiss their account out of love for them — and this is important — because we are not personally at risk.

We may love those accusing us, but our self-preservation can make us too close to care.  Put another way, our love-of-self can become greater than love for them.

Jesus has an answer for this:

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
Matthew 16:24

As long as we allow the default of prioritizing ourselves to be at play, our deceitful hearts can lead us to vilify and harm others, often without us knowing it; this means “trying to be loving” will always fall short, because our love has limitations.  However, when we accept Jesus’s call to deny our selves and take up our cross — to walk like Jesus even in the most dangerous spaces — we find we will not only be able to love like him, but see others and our situations as he does.

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Matthew 22:36-40