My Greatest Moral Failure

While on our cruise to Alaska we were able to get to TV stations--Fox News and CNN. So I was able to see the Rick Warren town hall meetings he held with Barack Obama and John McCain.

I thought Rick did a great job. The program was very interesting on many levels. It gave some good insights into the two candidates.

One of the questions Rick asked was this: What is your greatest moral failure?

Let me have a bit of fun with Rick on this one for a moment. I've known Rick for years, not on a close friendship level but on a friendly colleague level. We've shared a couple of meals together. This, by the way, was years ago.

Anyway, Rick is as genuinely smart and fun and caring as he comes across on TV. From my experiences with him, there isn't a condemning bone in him. That's not to say he doesn't stand up against what's wrong--his commitment to Rwanda is a great example of righting an injustice--but it is to say that he's always been a gospel person. His big motto for preaching--Preach about what Jesus is for, not about what he's against. But, and here I'm tongue in cheek, kind of, he is a Southern Baptist. And the moral failure question made me laugh. It sounded so stereotypically Baptist to me. Must be my preconceived notion that our baptist brothers and sisters are always probing us about sin.

Perhaps a better question--what was your most significant experience of grace? That can often get at moral failure as well.

That aside, you could hear the audience take in their breath as the question was put to each candidate, waiting to hear some deep dark secret life revealed.

How would you answer that question? Is it anyone's business?

McCain talked briefly of the failure of his first marriage. Obama reiterated the struggles he had as a teen, using drugs for a period of time. Big stuff, in a way. But safe answers as we already knew them. I don't think either of them, if there is a skeleton in the closet, was going to admit to it at that moment.

The point is, we were all waiting for a big, John Edwards type confession. I cheated on my wife. Or I beat my kids. Or I'm addicted to pornography. Because moral failure, after all, has to be big.

While riding my bike today I was thinking about that question. (Why? I don't know. Odd question to think about in the beauty of the early morning.) How would I answer it?: I remembered a time when I thought about skipping Sunday school. Sometimes I eat too much dark chocolate. I really dislike Packer's Fans. I one time crossed party lines and voted for someone not of my political party. But no real big moral failures (at least that I'll put in writing.) And if I had answered the question that way, in that forum, I would have probably been accused of lying, or holding back, or of being un-relateable to the normal every day person, etc, by the press or other critics. Because, again, moral failure has to be something big.

But how about this for a confession:

I have far too often passed by people who needed my help because I was too busy, or didn't want to be bothered.
I have been far to critical of people throughout my life.
I have said things, mean things, about people behind their backs (including some of you! :))
I have abused the planet.
I have ignored the poor.
I have spent my God-given resources all too often on selfish, frivolous things.
Again and again I have not reflected the image of God.
In small ways every day I commit some kind of moral failure.

And it's those small acts of moral failure that can be most damning. Because if we continue to do them with little thought, we begin to lose our souls. We lose our humanity.

Just look at the world around us. The bitter arguments we have over politics, and usually about politics that don't matter like who's more like Paris Hilton or who's more like George Bush.

Look at the way we allow the genocide in Darfur to continue.

Look at the ways in which we ignore the needs of the poor.

Look at the way we gossip and gripe.

Little acts of moral failure become a habit that de-humanizes us all.

I'm guilty of those acts every day. A big moral failure I can eventually deal with and fix--as painful as it might be. It's the little ones that are so difficult to get at moment by moment.

But...and it's a big but...there's grace. There's the cross. There's Jesus. There's a second chance. There's restoration. There's the power to repent and live in the light of grace. There's transforming forgiveness. There is God--who through the grace of Jesus makes me human again.