Blame: Toxic Love Killer

How does the blame game start? Picture this: we set out on a family trip and realize we forgot some essential item. So naturally, the first step is to figure out who was responsible for bringing that item. After all, it is crucial to establish whose fault the forgotten item is. Or is it? Then we grudgingly turn around, and our attitude punishes the forgetful member of the party. Finally, justice is served, and the trip is ruined.

In Matthew 16, the disciples discover that they had forgotten to bring any bread on the trip. In what seems like a somewhat non sequitur response, Jesus warns them against the leaven of the Pharisees. Immediately the disciples think he is blaming them for the oversight of the food. The following verses read:

Aware of their discussion, Jesus asked, “You of little faith, why are you talking among yourselves about having no bread? ⁹ Do you still not understand? Don’t you remember the five loaves for the five thousand and how many basketfuls you gathered? ¹⁰ Or the seven loaves for the four thousand, and how many basketfuls you gathered? ¹¹ How is it you don’t understand that I was not talking to you about bread? But be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.” ¹² Then, they understood that he was not telling them to guard against the yeast used in bread but against the teaching of the Pharisees and Sadducees. Matthew 16: 8-12

I have a theory about the leaven Jesus is referring to.

Almost all of the studies refer to that leaven as hypocrisy. I don’t imagine Jesus being particularly random in his conversations. So, I ask myself what lead to Jesus mentioning it as the disciples discuss the issue of bread?

I  put myself on that boat and realized that the issue here is, in part, blame.

I imagine Jesus listening to the disciples playing the toxic blame game, making sure to shame those responsible for packing the food. Placing blame is irresistible, is it not? And so many of our dysfunctional family systems revolve around finding fault.

The issue is so pressing to the disciples that they immediately think Jesus is talking about bread. But Jesus doesn’t care at all about the bread, who has it, and who doesn’t. Food multiplication miracles are within the realm of possibility for Jesus, though not for the disciples, apparently. Instead, he is concerned with the heart of his disciples, who are playing pin the blame on the flaky.

Why should blame be considered as part of the leaven of the Pharisees?

 Because accusation is the fuel of hypocrisy.

We can’t put on a false front of righteousness without pointing out the flaws of others. That is how it works.

And the fruit of blame is contempt. We set ourselves up as judges of others, and the natural result is that love grows cold. I think of the Pharisees angry at Jesus for healing on the Sabbath. It didn’t occur to them to be happy for the person healed. Cold hearts, indeed.

John Gottman calls contempt one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse in a marriage. The presence of a critical spirit in a marriage is indicative that love is dying. Jesus wants his disciples to love each other. They must be able to love one another, not just to show an example of the Kingdom, but because they will need each other in the days to come. He doesn’t enter into their blame match but warns them about their hearts.

And what is the point of blame but to create a power differential? I am better than you, says the accuser. Shame follows soon after with its poisonous suggestion that something is wrong, even unfixable, about the accused. The shamed feel unlovable. And then love dies.

If we allow a culture of blame to spring up within our relationships with our spouses, children, coworkers, and friends, then love is strangled. I think of Jesus and the adulteress when he said neither do I condemn you. Her accusers blamed her (not the adulterer who was surely guilty) and are willing to kill her for it. And notice that Jesus doesn’t even accuse her tormentors. He just writes things in the dirt. They each know what they have done. In this instance, Jesus doesn’t even accuse the accusers.

Jesus doesn’t play the blame game.

So how do we opt out of this toxicity? First, we contend with the flesh, which resists being at fault. Learning to admit to error, and taking responsibility for our actions, intended or otherwise, requires some travel on the road to maturity. It begins, I believe, with confessing our sins to God and receiving forgiveness.

Draining the blame from our family culture begins and ends with valuing the person over their flaws. Analyzing the faults of others is a somewhat pleasurable pastime for many of us. Unfortunately, it fuels gossip and creates factions. We get to separate ourselves into exclusive groups, which feels like love for a moment. We so desperately want to belong. That is the error of the Pharisee, the idea that to belong, to be important means the others must be excluded and be unimportant.

Loving our neighbor as ourselves means letting go of the accusations. What does that look like? I suppose it means being slow to anger and letting go of grudges. When someone mistreats you, it means to respond wisely rather than with retaliation. We talk very little about turning the other cheek these days. Without condoning the false righteousness of staying in abusive situations, it is possible to de-escalate conflicts. Soft words and an unwillingness to return evil for evil go a long way.

God does not blame us.

On the contrary, he loved us while we were yet in our sins. He, better than anyone, knows our failings. Yet I have never felt rejected in all my encounters and devotional times with him. Conviction, yes. Along with a desire to change. But Jesus is rooting for me, not looking down his nose at me.

That is where we must start, I suppose. Are we looking down our noses? Finding fault? Placing well-deserved blame? Then we must check our hearts to see if love still lives within us. God help us if it does not.

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The Treachery of Contempt: Killing Each Other Softly