The Perspective Cliff

Imagine standing about 20 feet from the lip of a cliff waiting for your loved one to climb up to where you are. You know that this person is actively trying to reach the top. You can even hear them scrambling and yelling out, "I'm coming!" but, as more time goes by, you start to wonder whether they will ever make it. Minutes and then hours roll by and each "I'm coming! I'm coming!" becomes a reminder of the inability and untrustworthiness of this sorry excuse for a climber. And there you wait... alone... wondering if this person will ever come.

"Are there rocks ahead?"
"If there are, we all be dead."

Now, imagine yourself at the bottom of a rock face. The rocks are wet and hard to hold. You quickly realize that this climb, although possible (you've seen others have done it before), is easily going to be one of the most difficult things you will ever have to do. You begin your ascent, but quickly underestimate the slick nature of the rocks, so you slide back down to the bottom. You try another route, but again are surprised by difficulty of the climb. You think about quitting, but staying at the bottom is not an option. The car, your friends, and your life are waiting at the top. So you start again. Learning, as you go, how to better handle the terrain, you get farther than you ever have before and yell out in excitement, "I'm coming! I'm almost there!" only to put your faith in the wrong foothold and once again slide to the bottom. By now, your arms and legs are scraped and bleeding and your lungs feel on fire as you hear an annoyed and bitter voice from above ask, "Are you coming or aren't you?" To which you quietly respond under your breath, as your heart fills with rage, "Forget you! I'm doing the best I can!"

It's obvious, isn't it? If the person at the top would simply walk forward, look over the cliff and see how hard the climber is trying and how treacherous the climb truly is, his or her annoyance and bitterness might fade and they might even find appreciation for the climber's best efforts.

"Oh... that does look difficult."

But even with this new perspective shift, there is a tension that remains. First, this is their climb. You cannot climb it for them. To throw down a rope and pull them up is to steal their dignity and to rob them of any confidence for future climbs. Second, your unsolicited help or suggestions may only serve to further frustrate the climber. Remember, they are climbing while you are sitting comfortably at the top. You are not going to be the one who saves them. Which leads to the final tension. Despite your encouragement and understanding, this might take a lot longer than you think.

So it is with our sin and how it affects the ones we love.

"If anyone of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone... Go now and leave your life of sin."