When We Point Fingers at the Church, What Do We Miss in Ourselves? 03-18-25
By a Fellow Sinner In Need Of Grace
Every so often, the daily Mass readings seem to thunder with urgency—calling out hypocrisy, injustice, and shallow religion. Take today‘s readings, for example. From Isaiah’s sharp rebuke to “the princes of Sodom” to Jesus’ scorching words against the Pharisees in Matthew 23, we might feel a jolt of recognition and think, “Yes! God is dealing with the hypocrisy in the Church!”
And we wouldn’t be wrong. God does deal with hypocrisy in His Church. He always has. He always will. He purifies, corrects, and calls His people—especially leaders—to conversion. But before we get too comfortable applying that truth to “them,” we need to hear Jesus’ voice saying, “Do not follow their example… for they preach but do not practice.” And then we must ask: Am I living the Gospel I demand from others?
The Temptation of the Modern Pharisee
It’s easy to spot the faults in Church leadership. Bishops who disappoint us. Clergy who seem silent when they should speak. Laypeople whose political passions burn hotter than their love for the Eucharist. There is real, painful scandal in the Body of Christ—and it is right to grieve that. But grief must never become self-righteous gloating.
Because here’s the trap: when we spend our spiritual energy condemning “hypocrisy in the Church,” we often overlook the very same spirit within ourselves.
Are we not tempted to exalt our own opinions, quote Scripture selectively, and call it “truth-telling,” while sowing division and suspicion? Do we not speak of “justice” while harboring contempt for those who vote differently than we do? Do we post prayers on social media but curse our bishops in private emails and conspiracy threads?
Jesus’ warning isn’t just for corrupt religious leaders. It’s for anyone—anyone—who uses the name of God to elevate themselves, to shame others, or to divide the flock. That’s the spirit of the Pharisee, not the Spirit of Christ.
God’s Rebukes Begin with Love—and with Us
The most dangerous form of hypocrisy is not in Rome or even in Washington—it’s the kind that hides in our own hearts while we applaud God’s judgment on everyone else.
Isaiah says: “Wash yourselves clean… cease doing evil… make justice your aim… defend the widow.” But justice divorced from humility becomes arrogance. Truth without love becomes a weapon.
Jesus’ parable of the fig tree reminds us: God is not eager to cut us down. He is patient. He digs. He fertilizes. He waits for fruit. But make no mistake—He expects transformation. Not just in the hierarchy. Not just in institutions. In me. In you.
What Does True Repentance Look Like?
This Lent, many Catholics will once again cry out, “The Church is full of hypocrites!” And they’re right. But before we close that case, we need to ask a harder question: Am I one of them?
True repentance means:
• Asking where pride, resentment, or bitterness have hardened my heart. • Refusing to baptize political ideology as divine truth. • Listening more than I lecture. • Praying for the very leaders I’m tempted to despise. • Letting God deal with others’ sins while I face my own.
It’s much easier to call out hypocrisy than to confess it. But the saints—those who truly transformed the Church—started by kneeling in silence, not shouting in rage.
A Final Word
Yes, God is dealing with the hypocrisy in the Church. But perhaps His loudest knock is not at the chancery doors—but at yours. At mine.
Let us not miss His voice because we are too busy pointing fingers. Let us not weaponize the Word of God to win arguments instead of win souls. And let us remember: the measure we use for others will be measured back to us.
This Lent, may we stop asking, “Who needs to repent?” and begin praying, “Lord, change my heart.”
Only then can we say, with integrity and humility, that we are part of the Church’s renewal—not just its criticism.
Today’s readings:
Isaiah 1:10, 16–20:The Lord calls His people to genuine repentance—urging them to wash away their sins, do justice, and return to Him for mercy and renewal.
Psalm 50:8–9, 16bc–17, 21, and 23:God rebukes empty ritual and hypocrisy, reminding His people that true worship flows from a sincere heart and righteous living.
Matthew 23:1–12:Jesus warns against the pride and hypocrisy of religious leaders, calling His followers instead to humility, service, and integrity. A Prayer of Honest Repentance
Lord God, Holy and Just,Your Word pierces through pretense and cuts through the noise.Today, You speak with fire—not to condemn us, but to awaken us.You call out hypocrisy not just in others, but in us. In me.
Forgive me, Lord, for the times I have pointed fingersinstead of opening my heart.For the moments I’ve used Your truth to elevate my opinions,rather than to lift up the broken.For speaking of justice while nursing resentment,for praying in public while judging in secret,for calling for change in others without first changing myself.
You are not looking for shallow words or empty rituals—You want mercy.You want hearts that break for what breaks Yours.You want faith that lives in humility, not pride.You want service, not self-promotion.
So today, I stop asking who needs to repent,and I start by asking You to search my own heart.
Wash me, Lord.Uproot bitterness.Silence my self-righteousness.Plant in me the seeds of compassion, patience, and love.Teach me to pray not just for the Church,but for the very leaders I struggle to understand or forgive.
Let this Lent not be a performance,but a return. A real one.
Return me to You—with a heart that listens, a will that surrenders,and a life that bears fruit.
May Your rebuke refine me, not crush me.And may Your mercy lead me to change—deep, lasting, and real.
Amen.
And we wouldn’t be wrong. God does deal with hypocrisy in His Church. He always has. He always will. He purifies, corrects, and calls His people—especially leaders—to conversion. But before we get too comfortable applying that truth to “them,” we need to hear Jesus’ voice saying, “Do not follow their example… for they preach but do not practice.” And then we must ask: Am I living the Gospel I demand from others?
The Temptation of the Modern Pharisee
It’s easy to spot the faults in Church leadership. Bishops who disappoint us. Clergy who seem silent when they should speak. Laypeople whose political passions burn hotter than their love for the Eucharist. There is real, painful scandal in the Body of Christ—and it is right to grieve that. But grief must never become self-righteous gloating.
Because here’s the trap: when we spend our spiritual energy condemning “hypocrisy in the Church,” we often overlook the very same spirit within ourselves.
Are we not tempted to exalt our own opinions, quote Scripture selectively, and call it “truth-telling,” while sowing division and suspicion? Do we not speak of “justice” while harboring contempt for those who vote differently than we do? Do we post prayers on social media but curse our bishops in private emails and conspiracy threads?
Jesus’ warning isn’t just for corrupt religious leaders. It’s for anyone—anyone—who uses the name of God to elevate themselves, to shame others, or to divide the flock. That’s the spirit of the Pharisee, not the Spirit of Christ.
God’s Rebukes Begin with Love—and with Us
The most dangerous form of hypocrisy is not in Rome or even in Washington—it’s the kind that hides in our own hearts while we applaud God’s judgment on everyone else.
Isaiah says: “Wash yourselves clean… cease doing evil… make justice your aim… defend the widow.” But justice divorced from humility becomes arrogance. Truth without love becomes a weapon.
Jesus’ parable of the fig tree reminds us: God is not eager to cut us down. He is patient. He digs. He fertilizes. He waits for fruit. But make no mistake—He expects transformation. Not just in the hierarchy. Not just in institutions. In me. In you.
What Does True Repentance Look Like?
This Lent, many Catholics will once again cry out, “The Church is full of hypocrites!” And they’re right. But before we close that case, we need to ask a harder question: Am I one of them?
True repentance means:
• Asking where pride, resentment, or bitterness have hardened my heart. • Refusing to baptize political ideology as divine truth. • Listening more than I lecture. • Praying for the very leaders I’m tempted to despise. • Letting God deal with others’ sins while I face my own.
It’s much easier to call out hypocrisy than to confess it. But the saints—those who truly transformed the Church—started by kneeling in silence, not shouting in rage.
A Final Word
Yes, God is dealing with the hypocrisy in the Church. But perhaps His loudest knock is not at the chancery doors—but at yours. At mine.
Let us not miss His voice because we are too busy pointing fingers. Let us not weaponize the Word of God to win arguments instead of win souls. And let us remember: the measure we use for others will be measured back to us.
This Lent, may we stop asking, “Who needs to repent?” and begin praying, “Lord, change my heart.”
Only then can we say, with integrity and humility, that we are part of the Church’s renewal—not just its criticism.
Today’s readings:
Isaiah 1:10, 16–20:The Lord calls His people to genuine repentance—urging them to wash away their sins, do justice, and return to Him for mercy and renewal.
Psalm 50:8–9, 16bc–17, 21, and 23:God rebukes empty ritual and hypocrisy, reminding His people that true worship flows from a sincere heart and righteous living.
Matthew 23:1–12:Jesus warns against the pride and hypocrisy of religious leaders, calling His followers instead to humility, service, and integrity. A Prayer of Honest Repentance
Lord God, Holy and Just,Your Word pierces through pretense and cuts through the noise.Today, You speak with fire—not to condemn us, but to awaken us.You call out hypocrisy not just in others, but in us. In me.
Forgive me, Lord, for the times I have pointed fingersinstead of opening my heart.For the moments I’ve used Your truth to elevate my opinions,rather than to lift up the broken.For speaking of justice while nursing resentment,for praying in public while judging in secret,for calling for change in others without first changing myself.
You are not looking for shallow words or empty rituals—You want mercy.You want hearts that break for what breaks Yours.You want faith that lives in humility, not pride.You want service, not self-promotion.
So today, I stop asking who needs to repent,and I start by asking You to search my own heart.
Wash me, Lord.Uproot bitterness.Silence my self-righteousness.Plant in me the seeds of compassion, patience, and love.Teach me to pray not just for the Church,but for the very leaders I struggle to understand or forgive.
Let this Lent not be a performance,but a return. A real one.
Return me to You—with a heart that listens, a will that surrenders,and a life that bears fruit.
May Your rebuke refine me, not crush me.And may Your mercy lead me to change—deep, lasting, and real.
Amen.