The Blame Game

As the rain poured down for what must have been the eighth day in a row, my co-worker confidently proclaimed, “I blame Christians for this!”

Laughing, I responded, “Why? What did we do?”

“Well, your God punishes, so obviously you all are the reason for all of this rain.”

Before the conversation could go any further, our boss walked through with a work-related question, and I returned to my desk with the printout that I’d been there to retrieve.

That moment struck me because of the perceived truth of the sentiment underlying the joking. For this man, and for many of us, we’re more apt to think of a God who punishes than of a loving God who is not willing that any should perish.

How often in the midst of really trying circumstances (with much bigger implications than a rainy afternoon) do we feel that God is punishing us, when the reality is that what we’re going through is a direct consequence of an action we’ve taken (or refused to take) or a decision we’ve made.

Please do not misunderstand me. Not everything bad that happens to us is our fault. Those who’ve been victimized by others suffer because of the free-will bad choices that their victimizers made. Period. What I’m saying is that often, the rough patch we’re going through is of our own making.

Case in point: I should not drink alcohol on a regular basis. While the bible tells us not to be drunk with wine, I don’t believe there’s any general prohibition against alcohol. If there were, Jesus would not have made his first miracle turning water into the best wine served at the wedding of Cana. That said there are some people who do not do well drinking alcohol. In my family line—both sides—is a history of chemical depression. This means that I have to be even more careful about eating nutritious foods, getting enough sleep, avoiding too much caffeine, exercising regularly, and not drinking more than a glass or two of alcohol on any given occasion. Why? Because when I get those things out of whack, I start to feel depressed. Is God punishing me with depression? No, in fact he’s the one there to restore me to wholeness when I realize that I’ve done it again.

For anyone out there who’s still convinced that God is just waiting for them to trip up, take a look at Luke 15:11–31, the story of the prodigal (lost) son. It’s the third of three parables that Jesus told in response to the religious folks (Pharisees and teachers of the law) complaining about Jesus: “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them” (Luke 15:2, NIV).

For anyone unfamiliar with the story, it goes like this. A man has two sons. One day the younger son comes to him and demands his “share of the estate.” (In other words, he doesn’t even wait until his father dies to make a grab for his money.) The father complies and divides his property between his two sons.

The younger son takes off for another country and parties the money away “in wild living” “with prostitutes.” Nothing like working your whole life to leave an inheritance for your child, only to have it blown in a Middle-Eastern Vegas.

A little time goes by, and the economy goes sour. Famine hits the land. The younger son finds himself out of money and working in a dead-end job starving. He finally “comes to his senses” and decides to go home and ask to become a servant back in his old house. He doesn’t expect his dad to take him back as a son, but he knows that the man treats his servants well, and at least he won’t go hungry there. His plan is to go back, admit he’s sinned against his father, and ask him to take him back as a hired man.

“But while he (the son) was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him” (Luke 15:20, NIV, emphasis mine).

According to plan, the son said, “Father I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son” (v. 21).

Did the father stop and berate him? Did he punish him? Make him feel guilty by asking where all his hard-earned money had gone? Nope. He declared a feast—a celebration because “this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found” (v. 24).

In fact, the only one who was really ticked off at the younger son was the older brother. He’d stayed and worked on his father’s behalf. He’d done what he was supposed to do. Where were his accolades? Where was his celebration?

This story has so many angles to examine, such richness that a whole series could be spent just looking at the significance of each of the characters in the story. But here’s the relevance as it concerns what we’re talking about today, and the situations that we as Christians find ourselves in when we’ve made bad decisions, acted wrongly—sinned.

Jesus told this story in response to religious folks criticizing his relationships with “sinners.” When we are believers, we have become adopted sons and daughters of God (Ephesians 1:5, 2 Cor. 6:18). In this story, it wasn’t a servant who had wronged the father (God); it was a son (a believer).

I’ve been there. I’m sure you have too. And what’s our first impulse? Like Adam and Eve, maybe we want to hide from God. Or maybe, like this son, we know our only hope is to go back to God and admit our sin, and maybe if we do, we can at least be his servants again: work harder, do more in church, be better about following "the rules."

That’s our wrong thinking, not his. Notice this father: watching and waiting for this son to come home. Running out to meet him. Declaring a celebration. The only one who wants to punish in this story is the other son (the fellow believer who hasn’t committed the same sin—made the same mistakes as this one who was off living large, squandering all that the father had given him).

Please hear this. God loves you. If you are a believer in Christ Jesus, then you are his child. Do not let the world tell you that you can’t return to him. Don’t let them convince you that you have to hide from a God who’s looking to punish you if given half the chance. And don’t let other Christians who haven’t struggled with the same sin that you fell into make you feel that you have no right to be a full member of the family again. That’s not an opinion shared by your heavenly Father.

“So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1, NLT). The next time someone tries to condemn you, or your enemy whispers in your ear that you’ve squandered everything God has done for you, say out loud, “as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12, NIV).

Don’t waste your energy playing someone else’s blame game, even if the someone else is the little voice in your head that wants to criticize you for your mistakes. Keep moving forward. Keep your eyes on the Lord. Know that his plans are to “prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11, NIV).

“The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning. I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in him!’” (Lamentations 3:22–24, NLT, emphasis mine).

It’s not punishment—but God’s mercies—that never cease. Count on his love to be waiting for your return no matter how far you’ve strayed or how long you’ve been gone.