Most mornings I listen to a prayer podcast.  It begins with a scripture and then asks you to contemplate how that scripture applies to your life.

The other morning, the scripture was taken from Jesus’ speech to the scribes (think scholars) and Pharisees (think ultra-religious people).  Jesus said to them, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!  For you, tithe mint, dill, and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith.  It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others.  You blind guides!  You strain out a gnat and swallow a camel.”

The last phrase is funny: strain a gnat and swallow a camel.  I picture a man in a restaurant saying, “Waiter, there is a fly in my soup!”  The waiter responds, “Oh sir, I am so sorry!  Let me get a fresh bowl.  While I am here, how would you like your camel prepared!”

I thought about some Christians I know who fit this description.  There is no subtlety in them.  They cherry-pick their favorite issues and strain to prove how righteous they are.  They overlook bigger issues, like right and wrong, mercy and compassion, and living by faith.  They engage in fruitless arguments on “X (the platform previously known as Twitter)” that edify no one.  From my perspective, these people often sin in the name of straining flies. 

Listening to the podcast, I could feel the self-righteous anger building inside of me when the podcast voice challenged me, “Are you ever guilty of focusing on unimportant things, neglecting important things?” 

My anger quickly receded, and conviction took its place.  Yes, I am guilty of the very thing I condemn others for. 

If I use the measurements of justice, mercy, and faith, I fall woefully short.  In my pathological need to be liked by everyone, I will sometimes not speak up for justice.  Justice is rightly making decisions.  I find myself not speaking up when I see or hear injustice because I don’t want to offend people.  Just so I can offend everyone, it is unjust to malign candidates for office.  It is right to make decisions about candidates based on their character and their record.  It is unjust to make fun of their appearance, to criticize their family, and to tell lies about their records. 

I think about the times I failed to show mercy.  Mercy is having compassion that takes action.  I pass by people who need a word of encouragement, financial help, or an act of service because I am a busy person.  Jesus did not say this, but I think the priest and the Levite who passed by the man beaten and bleeding on the road to Jericho justified their lack of mercy based on the busyness or on some religious regulation they decided to keep instead of helping a fellow human.  If you are too busy for compassion, you are too busy.

When it comes to faith, I’d like to think I excel, but the truth is anxiety often rules my life.  Releasing matters into God’s hands is still difficult for me.  I probably inherited from my parents a fear of not having enough money.  I remember my mother not adding coconut to a cake because coconut was too expensive.  She said this not in the years she struggled but in the prosperous years.  Jesus told me (and you) that I was much more valuable than the birds our Heavenly Father takes care of.  He said I could trust our Father to take care of me, too.  My faith has a long way to go.

I thought about all my own hypocritical ways.  One of the great challenges of being a pastor is that when I preach, I know I don’t do all I am telling others to do.  I want to, really, but I fall short.  A man once told a pastor he didn’t go to church because of all the hypocrites.  The pastor replied, “Yep, we’ve got a lot of them; you will fit right in.”  Sounds like the pastor knew he was a hypocrite, too.

Do I ever strain at gnats?  Yes.  I have my own hot buttons.  The sad truth is I like feeling self-righteous.  I like feeling superior to others.  It boosts my ego when I point out the failures of others while feeling smug about my own superiority in some minor area.  To quote the Apostle Paul, “Oh wretched man that I am…” 

There is an old-fashioned word that is seldom used in church these days: conviction.  Conviction, rightly understood, means you listen to the Holy Spirit pointing out your character defects.  You ask for forgiveness with the sure knowledge that your Heavenly Father wants to forgive your sins.  Then, you humbly ask God to remove your defects of character. 

If you do not heed the conviction of the Holy Spirit, my hunch is you will remain in the company of gnat strainers and camel swallowers.  I am pretty sure that is a spiritual diet that will starve your soul.