Logs or Love: What lens are you looking through?

September 17, 2025

I think I probably talk about the following a lot, but I believe this is still true and ever more relevant. The stories we tell ourselves are increasingly divided, continue to alienate, and frequently provide more heat than light. So here are some thoughts on reducing the heat.

The principal (aka dean) of my theological college (aka seminary) has been a remarkable leader in the church, Christina Baxter. She has been a great mentor to me and I am deeply grateful to her for her wisdom, prayerfulness, knowledge and straightforwardness. She has taught me to be a better woman, more trusting child of God, and more faithful minister of the gospel.


While in parish, I was able to welcome her to Texas and have her speak for a Lent quiet day. I still remember her discussion of when she was a young tutor and had a student with some rather obvious-to-all character defects. Her response was to pray both about how to address the issue with said student, as well as to pray for herself for clarity and awareness of where she was guilty of the very same defects.


Jesus said something similar:


"Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' while the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor's eye."

(Matthew 7:3-5)


Attend to the log in your own eye.

In my experience, denial is so much easier! I have yet to leave behind a FB disagreement and not wonder what the point was. What was I trying to prove? Why did I butt in on a conversation or thought which, even if egregiously wrong, rarely benefits from being proven so. Especially in the “public” of the online environment.


In the moment, it is so much easier to point out the other’s wrong. Quite frankly, it’s far more obvious to me how other people are wrong than where I am. I can spot a character defect in someone else from a mile away, but my own? That requires more prayer, time and space than I have been historically willing to give. [Glad to say I’ve made some progress on that one though!]


Take time. Pray.

If I’m utterly convinced in the moment of how clean and pure and innocent I am (or are those who represent my views) and how wrong the other person/people are, I can guarantee that I’m not living in reality. Because even when the balance of wrong tilts away from me, I am learning to accept it doesn’t matter. Their wrong is their wrong. And it doesn’t excuse mine. Whether that is to be found in something obvious and visible to others, or my own subtler defects like believing I can change others simply by ‘being nice,’ pretending I agree when I don’t or not admitting I have stoked the fire of the other person’s point of view by stereotyping, dismissing or dehumanising them. If I don't take the time to pray, consider my part and deal with the shame and discomfort of coming face-to-face with my wrong, I am compounding it and choosing wilfull ignorance.


Just because another’s arrogance is overt, doesn’t mean mine is not covert, hiding in the shadows but claiming a pseudo-love. If I take time to pray, I give God space to show me what I don't want to see, accept it and turn it over. And be that little bit more free not to do the same next time.


And then you will see clearly (v.5)

But what I’ve also come to learn is this. Attending to the log in my own eye, seeing where I’m responsible. Where I’m guilty. Where I’ve contributed to the chaos around me. All of that does not mean I don’t say something at some point. It doesn’t mean I don’t say what is true. It doesn’t mean I check out from doing the good I can, where I can, whenever I can [to badly quote a well-known saying].


But by sitting first and praying first, I find some humility and common ground. I reach a place of understanding and empathy. I may still disagree, but I disagree from the place of loving the other person because I know I’m no different from them and they are no different from me.


They make different choices and their choices might cause me frustration or grief, but I love from a place of acceptance rather than denial and difference.


***

P.S. It doesn't all depend on you

One of the biggest lies in the world around us is the lie of urgency. We must act now! We need to say something. We need to be the ones to challenge or confront. We need to make the changes needed to bring God's kingdom in. But I genuinely believe this is not just a lie, but a lie with which the Enemey has won over too many believers. It is tyranny to rush. It is tyranny to carry that level of burden and responsibility. It feeds into an existence where we race ahead, not realising who we run over in the process. It results in people who run around trying to change the world, demanding changes of others but never realising where they themselves need a renovation, which is the only work we have any real power to do (and even then only in-step with the grace of God).


How do I know this? Because this has been me. I have rushed. Raced. Run people over (metaphorically). I have judged, condemned and dismissed. All in the name of Christ, which is to take his name in vain and it is wrong. [There's a lot I could say about how we confuse what it means to take God's name in vain, but that's for another day.]


Deal with your side of the street. Get honest. Get humble while you can. Turn it over. Then you will be increasingly better in loving as truthfully, faithfully and compassionately as you can.


*****

 

 

By Suse McBay April 14, 2026
A few weeks ago, I got to sit down via the wonders of the internet and have a catch-up with my friend and former colleague, Wayne Watson. We talked God, life, and the universe. And Winnie the Pooh! In Wayne's own words " What begins as lighthearted conversation between old friends quickly unfolds into a thoughtful and wide-ranging exploration of culture and the pursuit of God's truth. " It was fun. If you fancy a listen, check out the podcast (and the entire series) by clicking here ! ******
deute
By Suse McBay April 8, 2026
***** I’ve long noticed that the Bible that gets preached from the Sunday pulpit can be, well, a bit picky. Some bits are kept in and preached. Others are studiously ignored. The result? Different churches can give quite a different sense of what the Bible's message is than if you actually read it through cover to cover. Now I don't mean to accuse any one wing of the church: whether your tradition uses the lectionary (usually a three-year cycle of curated readings) or jumps around the canon to whichever biblical book or theme is of interest, certain parts of the Scriptures are often ignored. Some passages are cut off halfway through; others are omitted entirely. I remember preaching on Independence Day in the US (the irony of doing so as a Brit was not lost on me). The reading for the day began in Deuteronomy 10:17: “For the LORD your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the stranger, providing them food and clothing…” Sounds lovely, right? Well, yes—but Deuteronomy 10:17 starts in the middle of a paragraph. In the middle of divine instruction that God gives through Moses. We can see this in how it begins: for the LORD your God.. . It could also be translated because the LORD your God … This passage is the explanation for something. It is a why to a biblical command, not a standalone theological statement. So what’s the actual command? What’s the main message God wants the people to hear? The verse before (v.16) says this: “Circumcise, then, the foreskin of your heart, and do not be stubborn any longer.” The purpose of this speech? To call God’s people to repentance. To change. The ‘heart’ in biblical texts usually refers to one’s innermost self. The seat of who you are in the deepest places of your will and desire. God has said he wants their obedience (v.12), he has reminded them of his extraordinary generosity in choosing them as his people (vv.13–15), but here God lands a punch: The centremost part of who you are, God says, needs to be clipped. Reading vv.17–22 feels quite different in light of the whole text. It’s not a statement of a good God whom we should simply ‘fear’ and ‘hold fast to’ (v.20). It’s far more rooted and real than that. In reading through all ten verses, we get a sense of a people who have become too big for their boots. Who have forgotten that it’s not because they have anything to offer that God chose them, but rather because of the graciousness of God. And we get a clear call from God that such people need to, in essence, sort themselves out. Be humbled. Circumcise their hearts. I don’t believe the Sunday lectionary was formed with a conspiratorial agenda to omit the hard stuff (the whole thing would largely be read through in the daily lectionary for the Daily Office). But I do believe it’s spiritually dangerous for us to ignore the material that is left on the cutting room floor in our preaching. The people of God are called to grow into the fullness of the gospel—to become mature Christians. If we only ever swim in the protected waters of the lectionary, we will not be confronted by the reality of a God who regularly and reliably calls his people to humble themselves, care for those in need, and live lives of sacrificial love. Who makes space within their communities for the vulnerable. Who looks out for the marginalised among us. Who deals with the darkest and ugliest of human evil. Who redeems out of family lines and dynasties most of us would give up on. In recent years, there has been increasing focus on the importance of the gut–brain connection. How what you eat shapes who you are, and how you function mentally, emotionally, and physically. What we fuel ourselves with matters. The same is true spiritually. The Bible is the spiritual equivalent of a Whole30. Or a wholemeal, organic, seed-infused sourdough loaf. It’s nutritious and gritty. It requires some chewing. It’s not always easy to digest. But it provides the minerals and nutrients we need. It may take some adjustment, but it may also be just what the doctor ordered. Not for our physical sicknesses, but rather our more pernicious spiritual malaise. ******

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