Thou Art the Man!

I once watched a little boy on the playground point accusingly at another child who had pushed someone down. "That's not nice!" he shouted, his face twisted with righteous indignation. Not five minutes later, I observed this same boy shove another child who wouldn't share the slide. The irony wasn't lost on me. How often are we like that little boy—quick to condemn in others what we tolerate in ourselves?

This reminds me of one of the most powerful confrontations in Scripture: when Nathan the prophet faced King David after his sin with Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah.

David had everything—the kingdom, wealth, multiple wives and concubines. Yet he coveted another man's wife, took her, and then orchestrated her husband's death on the battlefield to cover his tracks. For nearly a year, David lived with this sin festering in his soul, apparently unbothered by his own wickedness.

Then God sent Nathan, who approached the king with a clever parable about a rich man and a poor man. The rich man had flocks and herds "exceeding many" while the poor man had "nothing, save one little ewe lamb." When a traveler visited the rich man, instead of taking from his own abundant flocks, he stole the poor man's beloved lamb and prepared it for his guest.

Scripture records David's reaction with striking clarity:

"And David's anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, As the LORD liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die: And he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity" (2 Samuel 12:5-6).

Can't you just hear the indignation in David's voice? The righteous outrage? How could someone be so callous, so greedy, so utterly heartless? David, the shepherd-king who once protected his sheep from lions and bears, was incensed at this injustice.

Then came those four thunderbolt words from Nathan: "Thou art the man."

I imagine David's face falling as realization dawned. The condemned man was not some nameless citizen in his kingdom. It was him! His own sin, repackaged in a parable, had provoked his fury. The judgment he pronounced so quickly on another was hanging over his own head.

How often do we do the same? We bristle at someone's impatience while racing through traffic ourselves. We criticize a friend's gossiping tongue while sharing "prayer requests" that sound suspiciously like juicy tidbits. We shake our heads at others' materialism while our own Amazon carts overflow.

The sins we most easily identify in others often reveal the hidden corners of our own hearts. Our irritations become mirrors, reflecting back what we don't want to see in ourselves.

Perhaps this is why Jesus warned, "Judge not, that ye be not judged" (Matthew 7:1). Not because judgment itself is wrong, but because our judgment often springs from hypocrisy.

Today, may we be quick to examine our own hearts before pointing fingers. And when God sends a "Nathan" into our lives to reveal our blind spots, may we respond as David ultimately did—with brokenness, repentance, and a renewed hunger for God's mercy.