The Perils of Self-Righteous Indignation in Modern Society
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Understanding the Nature of Self-Righteousness
There’s a certain allure in yielding to the intoxicating rush of self-righteous anger and justified outrage. The superiority we feel when criticizing those who have erred or acted maliciously often conceals our own fears that we could easily find ourselves in a similar position. We take pleasure in condemning those who seem deserving of our disdain. They’re not just mistaken; they’re portrayed as malevolent, allowing us to justify the fury that threatens to overwhelm us. We see ourselves as right, and them as unequivocally wrong. It feels gratifying.
My friend Tony has a point; I do tend to preach on occasion. This inclination isn’t necessarily religious or spiritual, nor is it confined to a single belief system, but it certainly reflects the moral framework I was brought up with. The values instilled in me during my upbringing stem from a Christian tradition. This influence is profound, so I ask for your understanding as I draw on biblical examples to illustrate a broader, secular argument.
This morning, I find myself reflecting on forgiveness and our innate tendency toward self-righteous anger and judgment. Society has a general understanding that those who rely on tips often grasp the moral significance of rewarding good service. Individuals who have received forgiveness tend to be more forgiving themselves.
Experiencing life from another’s perspective fosters empathy. Yet, it’s often the self-righteous who insist they would never commit such a transgression. They claim to be incapable of making such a grievous mistake. But the reality is, we are all just a misstep away from error. After all, we all fall short at some point.
Biblical Narratives of Forgiveness
Two biblical accounts come to mind that illustrate these ideas. You might be familiar with them. The first involves Jesus conversing with a group of Pharisees—wealthy, prominent religious figures of their time, akin to today’s well-known, politically influential evangelical leaders. These individuals often critique the moral decay of society while maintaining a starkly different private life.
In this account, the Pharisees present a woman caught in adultery to Jesus, challenging Him to render judgment according to the law, which demands stoning. Jesus, however, bends down and begins writing in the sand. We never learn what He writes. When pressed for an answer, He rises and declares, “Let the one without sin throw the first stone.”
He returns to writing, and one by one, the accusers depart, each recognizing their own failings, leaving only Jesus and the woman. He then asks her, “Where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?”
“No one, my Lord,” she replies.
“Neither do I condemn you,” Jesus responds. “Go, and sin no more.”
The essence of this story conveys two key lessons. First, it emphasizes the transformative power of forgiveness. Here stands Jesus, a revered teacher, affirming the woman’s worth. More importantly, it reminds us that, given our own imperfections, we are in no position to judge others. None of us is without sin, and thus, none can claim the right to condemn another.
In another instance, Jesus admonishes, “Why do you see the speck in your brother’s eye, but fail to notice the beam in your own? Judge not, lest you be judged.”
The second narrative pertains to the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant. In this tale, a king reconciles his accounts and discovers one man owes him a staggering debt of 10,000 talents—an unimaginable sum. When the debtor pleads for mercy, the king forgives him entirely. However, upon leaving, this same man encounters a fellow servant who owes him 100 talents. He demands repayment, and when the man cannot comply, he has him imprisoned. The king, learning of this, becomes furious.
“You wicked servant!” he exclaims. “I forgave you all that debt because you asked for mercy. Should you not have shown mercy to your fellow servant, as I did to you?”
The concept of forgiveness is intrinsically linked to love, which arises from empathy. If we can empathize with another, we can see reflections of ourselves in them and understand their struggles. This makes it harder to condemn them without recognizing our own challenges.
Yet, one way to sidestep this moral dilemma is to elevate the stakes and strip the offender of their humanity. They become no longer a flawed individual, but rather, a symbol of pure evil. We convince ourselves that we are fundamentally different. We would never act in such a manner. We are superior, and they deserve their fate. “An eye for an eye,” we proclaim. “Crucify him!” we shout.
The Dark Legacy of Public Judgment
Less than a century ago, public lynchings were a grotesque form of entertainment in America. Spectators traveled from afar, posing for photographs beside the scenes of mob violence. These acts were not hidden; they were public spectacles.
On March 21, 1981, in Mobile, Alabama, members of the Ku Klux Klan brutally murdered a 19-year-old Black man named Michael Donald, hanging his bod