The Scary Art of Criticism

Originally, we’re told, a critic was someone who remarked on the worth of a literary piece. To “critique” was to pass judgment on a writing.

“Everyone’s a critic,” goes the old line. Not in the sense that everyone is passing judgment on literary offerings but simply that everyone has an opinion on everything.

“How’s the food?” you ask a diner in the restaurant. “Did you enjoy the movie?” you ask someone coming out the cinema. “So, what did you think of today’s sermon?” you ask the worshiper since you had to miss church this morning. “And how was the choir special?”

Everyone has an opinion. Everyone is a critic. Welcome to Human Nature 101.

You and I sit in our living room and notice the television news anchor has dyed her hair a rather strange color. The weather guy has put on weight. And what an odd outfit one of the other women on the program is wearing.

One thing you can count on: If you and I notice these things enough to remark on them, someone is writing or calling the station to point it out. And that bugs the fire out of the television personalities.

I’ve heard them complain, “Why do people think they have a right to call attention to what you are wearing or how you do your hair or whether I’ve added a few pounds?”

The answer: If we are going to be staring at you every day of our lives, we will notice these things. And if something is not right, it bugs us. And–important point coming up!–when we are bugged, we feel we have to try to remedy the situation.

In fact, it’s more than a right. It’s our duty.

That’s why we are all critics. Ask a coach. At any level, in any sport, coaches are constantly pestered by spectators who sit in the stands and call attention to their shortcomings. He should have taken that player out, put this one in, not called that play, called a timeout.

We are critics because when we see things that upset us, we want to set them right. In that sense, we are all “controllers.”

Nowhere does the matter of criticism come into play more than in the congregation of Christian people. It’s there that people have come for healing. It’s there many find such compassionate friends whom they come to trust that they begin to open themselves up. And they become vulnerable to great hurt from those who should have been their best friends.

Five points on the subject of criticism need to be emphasized here.


One. I find it easier to criticize you than to work on improving myself.

When our Lord said, “Do not judge so that you will not be judged,” He did not mean people were not to use discernment in their relationships. He meant they were not to be nitpickers, fault-finders, and constant critics (Matthew 7:1).

Instead, He added, “First, take the log out of your own eye and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye” (Matthew 7:5).

Do I think it diverts attention away from my problems if I call attention to yours? Probably. But–and this is the point–it makes me feel better about myself.

Why is this? I don’t have a clue. But it’s true.

If you ever needed evidence of the sinfulness of the human heart, remember this fact: pointing out the faults of another makes me feel better about my own shortcomings.

God help us.

Two. That I call attention to your shortcomings more than to your positive qualities is actually a compliment to you.

Well, that’s the theory at any rate. It’s how I can justify calling your attention to some minor infraction of yours. “You’re so good in all the other areas; I just felt you would appreciate a little help here.”

This is a variation on the “10 Commandments” idea that says, “These are the only thou-shalt-nots. Everything else is available to us.” Nice theory, but it won’t stand up in court.

Three. The worse I feel about myself, the more venomous my criticism of you.

This surely must be a law governing human behavior: the more worthless I feel toward myself, the more I poison relationships with the people around me. Perhaps it’s about compensation for my overwhelming sense of inadequacies. (I’m a Baptist preacher and not a psychiatrist, so this subject is beyond my pay grade, as a president once famously said on another subject. So, I’ll leave this to others.)

I’ve noticed something in churches over the years. A fellow with a miserable home life and a terrible job record, one whose life is in disarray, comes to church and spews venom into every relationship. His constant carping about the pastor and other leaders poisons the atmosphere and turns every business session into a dogfight. If the leadership is mature and responsible, they will deal with him on a personal, private basis and put a stop to his bullying tactics. If the leadership is timid and weak, they will allow him to destroy the church.

Four. The reason my criticism is not received well by you and may even wound you is that I don’t know how to give it effectively.

There are ways to give criticism well. There are methods for correcting people that make them want to do better and will carve out for you a place in their hearts forever.

As a college sophomore, I was invited by Passenger Agent Mac Chandler to work in the ticket office of the Seaboard Railroad that summer, taking reservations and answering queries over the phone. I loved everything about the job and the people.

Mr. Chandler did something for me that summer for which I will always be grateful. He gave me a little booklet on “Tact.” In fact, that was its title.

“I think you will enjoy this, Joe,” he said. And that’s all he said.

To this day, a full half-century later, I recall the pleasure I found in reading that pamphlet and learning better ways of dealing with people. Not long ago, I came across the pamphlet and read it again. Its lessons are so elementary, I wonder now why it affected me the way it did. The answer has to be that its lessons “took” with me. It would be like a professor of music coming across one of his first childhood lesson books, a chef finding an old leaflet listing the utensils in the kitchen drawer, or a scientist reading a primer on mathematics.

There are ways to help people who need fixing. Wise is the person who learns what they are.

Here are two approaches that will be helpful in some situations.

One, rather than call attention to something your child is doing wrong, what if you asked, “Do you really want to do that?” “Are you sure you want to post that on Facebook?” That sort of thing.

Two, if it’s an employee who works under you, ask, “Bob, tell me how you think this is going.” Or, “How do you assess this project, Sue?” You’re giving them an opportunity to point out their own error and explain how they intend to deal with it.

This means you will need to overcome the tendency to “catch someone” in an error. There is a scavenger side to our sinful nature that delights in feasting on the cadaver of another’s hopes and dreams, but in Christ we can rise above it.

Five. By calling attention to your omissions and failures, your negatives and shortcomings, I am forever fixating your attention on those faults. Not a good thing.

A woman told me how her father used to berate her for her early attempts on the piano. “I was only a child and the lessons were difficult for me,” she said. “But he would call out, ‘Stop that! It’s awful! You’re driving me batty'”

The result, she said, is that even though she soon gave it up, to this day when she thinks about sitting at the piano, she gets physically ill.

If you want to forever ingrain bad traits into the character of those you love, the best way I know is by continually calling attention to them.

Here’s an exercise to try. In a small group–perhaps a Sunday School class–ask for volunteers to tell how someone’s constant carping left a permanent impression on them. “You’re a slob,” “Your room is a mess,” and “You never empty the trash” may well set the pattern for the rest of one’s life.

It helps to remember four great truths taught all through Scripture:

One. The Lord puts no prize on fault-finding by His people.

We’re told in Scripture to encourage one another, be kind to one another, and to build one another up. I can’t find any text telling us to point out each other’s mistakes and shortcomings.

Two. We are sent to be brothers and sisters, not critics.

The 12th chapter of Romans describes the inner workings of a healthy church congregation. We’re told to “rejoice with those who rejoice” and “weep with those who weep” (vs. 15). “Show family affection to one another with brotherly love” (vs. 10). “If possible, on your part, live at peace with everyone” (vs. 18).

Three. If fault-finding has to be done, God has given leaders to His people who are gifted in that scary art.

Here’s how the Apostle Paul puts it: “Brothers, if someone is caught in any wrongdoing, you who are spiritual should restore such a person with a gentle spirit, watching out for yourselves so you won’t be tempted also” (Galatians 6:1).

This is dangerous ground, wading into someone’s misbehavior in order to try to bring them out. It’s easy to hurt them, so Paul cautions such rescuers to use “a gentle spirit.” It’s also easy to be captured by the enemy, so he warns them to take care for themselves.

The object is to restore the offender. That is positive, not negative work.

Four. As a follower of Jesus Christ, the hardest job I will ever tackle is also the best gift I can give: to love the unlovely.

Listening to some in our churches run down the fallen of society, one would think that they themselves have always been lovely people who for God to have loved them enough to give His only begotten Son was no sacrifice; anyone would have loved them.

How easily we forget our roots. Part of that is a survival instinct, no doubt, and a good thing. It allows us to cut the ties with our dysfunctional background and to reach our potential in Christ. But in another way, we err in forgetting where we came from. God said to Israel, “Look to the rock from which you were cut, and to the quarry from which you were dug” (Isaiah 51:1).

The Apostle Peter lays a lack of productivity in the believer’s life at the door of this kind of forgetfulness: For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they will keep you from being useless or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. However, the person who lacks these things is blind and shortsighted, and has forgotten the cleansing from his past sins. (II Peter 1:8-9)

Unlike the fellow who shows up at your revival meeting to give his testimony and spends 90 percent of his allotted time reveling in his misdeeds and sinful behavior before finally getting to his conversion, we are to remember but not dwell on the past. “I once was lost but now am found; was blind but now I see.”

The person who has been forgiven much–and who remembers it–is the one who will love others about him. The one forgiven much but who forgets it will become a holy terror toward the very ones whom he should be receiving and blessing.

“Father, make us blessings for all about us, please. In particular, use us to encourage the ones we love the most and for whom we have the greatest hopes. Guard us against discouraging them by our negativism.

“At church, make us encouragers for strugglers and stragglers who look to us for help. May they find us to be like Christ, and someday make the greatest discovery of all: to find that Christ Himself is a lot like us. Amen.”

One thought on “The Scary Art of Criticism

  1. Amen, Brother Joe!

    “We catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.” (Not that people are flies, but you know what I mean.)

    Thanks for reminding us that love and encouragement are the way of Christ. Criticism and fault-finding are counter-productive.

    Still learning,

    Greg Loewer

    NorthStar Church Network: An Association of Baptist Congregations

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