17th Day of Lent
- Allison Wilcox
- Mar 24
- 3 min read
Monday, March 24, 2025
Romans 2:1-11, MSG
Those people are on a dark spiral downward. But if you think that leaves you on the high ground where you can point your finger at others, think again. Every time you criticize someone, you condemn yourself. It takes one to know one. Judgmental criticism of others is a well-known way of escaping detection in your own crimes and misdemeanors. But God isn’t so easily diverted. He sees right through all such smoke screens and holds you to what you’ve done.
You didn’t think, did you, that just by pointing your finger at others you would distract God from seeing all your misdoings and from coming down on you hard? Or did you think that because he’s such a nice God, he’d let you off the hook? Better think this one through from the beginning. God is kind, but he’s not soft. In kindness he takes us firmly by the hand and leads us into a radical life-change.
You’re not getting by with anything. Every refusal and avoidance of God adds fuel to the fire. The day is coming when it’s going to blaze hot and high, God’s fiery and righteous judgment. Make no mistake: In the end you get what’s coming to you—Eternal Life for those who work on God’s side, but to those who insist on getting their own way and take the path of least resistance, Fire!
If you go against the grain, you get splinters, regardless of which neighborhood you’re from, what your parents taught you, what schools you attended. But if you embrace the way God does things, there are wonderful payoffs, again without regard to where you are from or how you were brought up. Being a Jew won’t give you an automatic stamp of approval. God pays no attention to what others say (or what you think) about you. He makes up his own mind.

Reflection - Pastor Caroline Bashore, First UCC, Royersford and Linfield UCC
I thought I had the perfect alibi. The crime? A little gossip here, a harsh judgment there—nothing too serious, right? And if I ever felt a twinge of guilt, I just pointed my finger at someone else. “Did you hear what they did?” Classic misdirection.
Like any good crime novel, I spun a web of accusations, confident that I’d thrown the detective—God—off my trail. After all, wasn’t everyone else just as guilty? Maybe even more guilty? Surely, I could stay in the shadows while the spotlight found someone else.
But God isn’t fooled. He sees right through the smoke and mirrors. Every attempt to dodge responsibility, every whispered critique of another, every self-justification—it all just adds fuel to the fire. He isn’t some bumbling inspector who can be deceived by a clever excuse. No, He’s the detective who already knows whodunit.
And yet—here’s the twist ending I didn’t see coming. Instead of throwing the book at me, God extends a hand. Not to cuff me, but to lead me. His kindness isn’t weakness; it’s an invitation to change, to confess, to walk free.
While this scripture from Romans sounds like a good mystery book, the season of Lent is no mystery. During Lent there is only truth-telling. No more cover-ups. No more pointing fingers. Just an honest recounting of the ways we’ve fallen short—and the grace of a God who still offers us a fresh start.
So, are you ready to come clean? The Divine Detective already knows.
Prayer: God of truth and mercy, strip away my excuses and lead me into your grace. Amen.
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