A few weeks ago, a close friend shared a powerful sermon with me by Jimmy Needham that I’m still processing and working through. It hit deeper than I expected—especially a section where Jimmy challenges the way we view our own sin compared to how we respond to the sins of others.
As he closed out his sermon on what the Bible says about homosexuality, Jimmy said something that shook me:
“Some of you are so excited that I preached this sermon, that I finally let the other guys have it. You probably need to repent. Not because you hate this sin so much, but because in all likelihood, you hate your sin so little. If this issue gets your blood boiling, but your own sinfulness is an afterthought to you, you have missed the heart of Jesus. You’ve missed it.”
That statement stopped me in my tracks, and I had to replay it a few more times.
Jimmy continued by asking questions that went straight to the heart of the matter:
● Where is our grief over our own offenses toward God?
● Where is our shame over our porn addictions?
● Over our sexual promiscuity?
● Where’s the vitriol—the holy anger—for our own sins?
This struck me because I often find myself quicker to critique others than to confront the brokenness in my own heart. And I know I’m not alone. It’s easier to be outraged by another's sin than heartbroken over mine.
This brings me straight to Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount:
“Do not judge, so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, 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 7:1–5, NASB 2020
It’s not that sin in the lives of others doesn’t matter—but we can trust that the Lord’s completing a good work in His people, He’s fiercely pursuing all of mankind, and wants none to perish.
Log removal is personal, painful, and holy work—and it’s exactly where the Spirit is working in the life of the believer right now:
“He saved us, not on the basis of deeds which we did in righteousness, but in accordance with His mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit.” — Titus 3:5 (NASB 2020)
This week in our small group, Pastor Chris shared some questions that tie directly into what the Lord has been showing me lately:
● What does Paul mean when he says, “Love never ends”? (1 Corinthians 13:8)
● How can we ensure that love is the driving force behind our use of spiritual gifts?
These questions sound simple, but they demand self-examination. Because here’s the tension: how can we claim to walk in love if we’re more focused on judging others than grieving over the sin in our own hearts?
If we’re not broken over the sin that’s breaking our fellowship with Christ—and often wounding our relationships with others—how can we expect love to lead the way? We end up operating from pride, self-righteousness, or apathy, rather than the humility and grace that love requires.
The truth is, the Spirit isn’t just calling us to “love better”—He’s inviting us into heart surgery. Into log removal. Into the kind of self-awareness that doesn’t just feel bad about sin, but longs to be restored—into deeper communion with Jesus, into healed relationships with others, and into a clearer awareness of just how much we’ve been forgiven.
These aren’t just theoretical questions. They pull us back to the heart of Jesus—one of love, humility, repentance, and transformation—a call to become more like Him... and less like our natural selves—judgmental, self-centered, and often blind to our own brokenness.
Side note—If you're not in a small group yet, I can’t encourage you strongly enough: make the sacrifice, carve out the time, and gather regularly with others who want to fix their eyes on eternity and help you do the same. The sharpening that happens in those circles can’t be duplicated in a Sunday morning setting alone.
So here we are, brothers—with the logs from our own eyes in hand. God’s not done with us yet. And I think I can speak for many of us when I say: we don’t want to miss the deep work He’s doing in our hearts because we’re too busy pointing out specks in someone else’s.
May we be people who grieve our sin deeply, love others sincerely, and allow the Spirit to refine us daily.
Written By: Lee Miles
