“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”
— Matthew 7:3-5

This command to remove the plank from our own eye before we burn someone’s world down over a speck in theirs is one we can’t afford to gloss over. Nothing in the Sermon on the Mount should be glossed over, as we’ll see again when we rewind a chapter later. We often read this command, and others of Jesus, while thinking about how they apply to other people. We think of those who have planks in their eyes but have to notice the specks in ours. That misses the point entirely. The only way to see this is from our eyes, not theirs.

Looking Inward First

Let’s flip the frame. The ancient Jews taught that Scripture was like a diamond with facets that catch light no matter how you look at it. If you swap the diamond for a chunk of coal, however, there’s no light to be found. If we don’t look at it, there of course is nothing to be seen. This also applies to when we read Scripture through the wrong frame.

For example, many assume that “heaven” refers to some distant domain meant for the future, and salvation a disembodied evacuation of the created world. When they read Matthew’s use of “Heaven” (c.f. Matthew 6), they assume it’s talking about something far off time and not present in the here and now. That’s not what Jesus was saying. “Heaven” was thought of like Genesis 1 – it was the air we lived in and couldn’t see. It was here and now and available. Check out Dallas Willard’s book, The Divine Conspiracy. In it, Dallas says,

So when Jesus directs us to pray, “Thy kingdom come,” he does not mean we should pray for it to come into existence. Rather, we pray for it to take over at all points in the personal, social, and political order where it is now excluded: “On earth as it is in heaven.” With this prayer we are invoking it, as in faith we are acting it, into the real world of our daily existence.

Jesus was not telling you to ignore your life and present reality because everything is hopeless or a future matter. It was “good news” for a reason. When Jesus told his audience to take the plank out of their own eye, if our automatic response is to think of others who judge us, we miss the point. Just before this passage, Jesus said, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Matthew 7:1-2)

Jesus is not talking about “other” people—He’s talking to you and me directly.

The Weight of Judgment

Let’s be real: someone reading this might think they’re good because they have Jesus while others have not. They assume they’re in the clear. But read it again. Jesus says that the way you judge others is the way you will be judged. Think about that. Do you really want God to judge you in the same way you judge others? Do you really want God to forgive you the same way you forgive others? Because that’s what Jesus in verse one of Matthew 7 was implying.

This isn’t an isolated Jesus teaching either. In the previous chapter, when Jesus taught His disciples how to pray, He said, “And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Matthew 6:12). The way God forgives us is directly linked to how we forgive others. That’s heavy. Think about it and fit it into Penal Substitutionary Atonement. Reconsider Evangelism from this perspective and how well some Evangelicals align with it. But, make sure, Jesus implores do not miss the central point – Consider how you (and I) do this?

In fact, in John’s Gospel, Jesus says it again after the Resurrection: “If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven” (John 20:23). Do you hear Jesus’ theological implication that theologians have to do summersaults and build impressive theologies around? They have to dance around Jesus’ “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven” (Matthew 16:18-19). Forgiveness is tied to how we treat each other in this life, not some future condition based on religious formulas.

Forgiveness as the Key

Forgiveness isn’t based on emotionally reciting the Sinner’s Prayer or holding onto grudges while expecting grace. It’s about how we forgive each other. If you’ve experienced the freedom of forgiving others or being forgiven, you already know what Jesus meant. On the flip side, if you’ve been under someone who weaponizes forgiveness, you know the hell on earth it creates.

This isn’t just theoretical. It shakes the very foundations of Christian theology developed over centuries. When you build your faith on a shaky foundation, the cracks show up everywhere, much like a house divided cannot stand. Jesus is suggesting something his followers haven’t seemed to get down in 2000 years. In some systematic theologies, the previous are the types of verses that dismantle almost a thousand years of Christian theological development. When you build your house on a shaky foundation, it doesn’t take much for cracks to start to form.

The Role of Forgiveness in Theology

This concept doesn’t fit neatly into today’s Evangelical and Protestant theologies. They often make forgiveness sound like a one-sided transaction between God and the individual. But Jesus suggests something more radical—God’s forgiveness is already available, and what matters is how we forgive each other. Why would a loving Father want to step in and judge when His children have already found reconciliation?

We want God to take our side, to dole out punishment, but Jesus teaches us a different way. The church—and society—has largely missed this, replacing love with control and judgment.

First-Person Perspective: The Plank in the Eye

To better understand, think of this from a first-person shooter (FPS) perspective, which is ironic since we’re talking about forgiveness. Imagine trying to move through life with a plank sticking out of your eye. It didn’t just appear one day; it’s been there, growing slowly. It blocks your view and causes constant irritation but you’ve become accustomed to it. You have a whole narrative and identity system around it to maintain it. Your plank could even be wearing a cross necklace and a Christian shirt. Maybe it’s the “cross” you think you’re “bearing”?

Maybe that’s why the specks of family members, social media, neighbors, and people on the other side of the country bother you so much—because your vision has been warped for so long. Could the cross you’re beating people with have been your plank the whole time, unlike some of the religious elite who had the comfort of political influence too in Jesus’ day?

Not only are we missing the full picture, but we’re also swinging that plank around, judging everyone else’s mistakes without realizing the destruction we’re causing. Let’s even consider the idea that our plank isn’t a plank, maybe it is just a speck. A speck still impairs eyesight, and close enough, blocks just as many sight as a plank. A speck in our eye still impairs our ability to help others and distracts us from reality.

So…fine, you may not have a plank in your eye, but please still deal with your specks instead of insisting on bashing other people. Forcing your fingers into other people’s eyes never worked.

An Example from Rehab

I remember during my second rehab stay, there was this young man in his 30s who had been through several rehabs and outpatient programs. He always spoke at group meetings and offered to help others with their recovery homework. Why? Because, in his words, he “was an expert in this stuff now.”

I wasn’t in the mood for making friends at rehab. I was more focused on my own recovery, scribbling in a notebook and doing personal work. One day, this guy dominated the meeting again, talking about his experiences and how he could help others. I couldn’t take it anymore. I interrupted and said, “If you’ve been through that many rehabs, you’re not an expert on recovery—you’re an expert on relapse.”

It came out harsher than I intended, and I felt instant regret. And it hit him hard because it was true. It embarrassed him in front of peers he worked so hard to build this reputation with. I could smell the same bullshit I was spinning as a church planter. He was running around helping everyone with their “specks” while refusing to deal with his own massive plank.

The Hard Truth

Not long before I was discharged, that same guy got caught with a smuggled cell phone and alcohol. He was still living in denial, focused on others instead of facing his own demons. I’ve lived that way too. How many times have I ignored my own plank, poking at others’ flaws as the reasons for my circumstances? How long did I scream inside about people not understanding me only realize it’s hard to understand something that’s screaming?

We all do it – I did more than most. We fumble through life, swinging our planks, and hurting others when we think we’re helping. Every addict knows this. Every forgiven sinner knows this. Jesus wasn’t asking us to fix people’s specks while ignoring our own planks. He was calling us to a higher, better standard—one of self-awareness and grace.

Forgiving Others, Forgiving Ourselves

It’s easy to sing about God’s grace and love on Sundays within the four white walls of a church, but how often do we live it out on Monday? Christians often come off as toxic, controlling parents, unable to deal with their own issues while trying to fix everyone else’s. Christians often depend on their “faith” in a codependent and insecure fashion. God doesn’t want that for His humans, just as a good parent doesn’t want to control their kid’s life.

The Apostle Paul also spoke on the importance of forgiveness, writing in Ephesians 4:32: “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” Paul’s words echo Jesus’, driving home the point that our ability to forgive directly correlates with the grace we’ve been given. We are forgiven, so why the heaven would we ever hesitate to be on a path of forgiveness with others? How could we take such grace and then act contrary to it, while preaching it?

Our planks.

The Cost of Holding On

Psychologically, holding onto unforgiveness is toxic. It eats at you, poisoning your relationships and well-being. As psychologist Everett Worthington puts it, “Unforgiveness is like taking poison and hoping the other person will die.” Bitterness becomes a root that spreads, and it doesn’t stop with us. Refusing to forgive traps you in bitterness, keeping you from fully living. You begin to collude and gossip with others, further entrenching your case against them and justifying yourself. It becomes the controlling and leading narrative of your life. The other person, without needing to be present, controls your life and you think you’re getting the better of them.

Is this the kind of life we want for ourselves?

The Way Forward

How much clearer could our vision be if we removed the planks in our eyes? We’ve spent centuries missing the point, swinging around judgment instead of practicing love. Jesus offers us a radical way forward: forgive, be forgiven, and stop judging others by standards we wouldn’t want to be judged by ourselves. “If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”

The kingdom is here, now. It’s in how we treat each other, how we forgive, and how we let go of the planks that have blinded us for so long. It might be like having scales removed from our eyes and opened for the first time. It’s amazing how the world looks and smells once we pull our heads out of our…