There is a colleague in my office.  He can spot the flaw in every one else - except the one in the mirror.

Let's call him Rick.  Rick was the kind of guy who could tell you what was wrong with your plan while not coming up with anything new.  He critique's everyone's work - except his own.  If someone was late to a meeting, it was disrespectful.  But when Rick was late?  "Traffic!" of course!

We all know of a Rick.

Some of us are Rick, on Tuesdays.

Paul, in Romans 2, had something to say about this. “You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things” (Romans 2:1, NIV).

It’s as if God holds up a mirror—not to shame us, but to show us. He’s not asking for guilt-trips or self-loathing. He’s simply saying: Take a look. A real one. No filters. No excuses. Just truth.

And here’s the kicker: God doesn’t hold up a mirror to mock you. He holds it up to free you.

We judge others by actions, but we want to be judged by intentions.

I snap at my wife and say, “Sorry, long day.” But when someone snaps at me? “Well, someone skipped their morning prayers.”

We excuse ourselves with grace, but hand out judgment like a judge on Britain's Got Talent. Romans 2 says that when we judge, we condemn ourselves because we’re doing the same things — just maybe not as loudly.

It reminds me of the time my daughter caught me sneaking a Coke Zero after telling that it's not good for her. “Is that a can of Coke in your mouth, Father?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“It's just that I am thirsty,” I mumbled sheepishly.

Caught. Mirror, meet Father.

God asks us to be perfect. He also asks us to be honest.

He knows that judging others builds walls, but examining ourselves builds bridges. 

God wants us to act differently.  One where we lose the lecture and speak with love.  One where we choose humility over hypocrisy. One where we admit that sometimes the biggest work God needs to do isn’t in them — it’s in me.

When we read Romans 2:1-3, let us not look at it as if it is a finger pointing at you.  Look at it as if it's a hand reaching toward you.

God’s kindness doesn’t expose to shame you — it exposes to save you. 

He doesn’t bring truth to rub it in, but to rub it out. 

And when we stop trying to fix everyone else and start letting Him fix us? That’s when the real miracle begins.

So next time you’re tempted to judge someone else’s mess, remember this: You might be looking through a window. But God is holding up a mirror.

And hopefully and thankfully, in that mirror, He sees not just what’s wrong — but what He’s making right.