Hi. It’s Me. And My Logs.

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, March 2nd, 2025:
Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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Luke
6.39-45

​Jesus told his disciples a parable: “Can a blind person guide a blind person? Will not both fall into a pit? A disciple is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully qualified will be like their teacher.

“Why do you see the speck in your neighbour’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbour, ‘Friend, let me take out the speck in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log 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 neighbour’s eye.

“No good tree bears bad fruit, nor again does a bad tree bear good fruit; for each tree is known by its own fruit. Figs are not gathered from thorns, nor are grapes picked from a bramble bush.

“Out of the good treasure of the heart, the good person produces good, and out of evil treasure, the evil person produces evil; for it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks.”

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

It can take me, easily, a good few minutes, of reading and re-reading a scripture passage to even begin figuring out who I am in the story or the main point being driven home.

But this one? This one’s pretty direct. 

For me, it was a really quick, almost sheepish, “I’m very much picking up what you’re putting down there, Jesus” type of passage. Hi, it’s me. He’s talking to me. And my logs. 

I’ve always found this line about finding the speck in another’s eye while ignoring the log in your own almost comical. Jesus didn’t hold back on this one. A speck. A log. It’s so painfully, almost comically accurate.

How often, in trying to control all the things around me, do I correct something just slightly off in someone else when, in fact, my tendency to control is way bigger than their slightly off tendencies?

How often do I silently respond to someone’s online post with an inner eye roll, followed by some version of a negative presumption when… my assumption itself is way worse than the thing I’m assuming of them?

How often am I focused on all the things I wish this or that person would change when I myself need those exact changes in my own heart?

The list goes on and on… and a quick glance at this Gospel says “Got it. Be a good person. Be nicer. Stop criticizing and critiquing so much.” 

But as I read this passage over and over, something more than an almost-comically direct (and warranted) reprimand became clear to me. The layers of this Gospel unfolded a little more, as they always do when we spend a little time with any given passage.

His insistence on this is for our wholeness. It’s a pathway for us to be our most authentically, free selves.

I sometimes forget that Christ and what He’s proposing are actually for my whole healing. Always. He’s the creator and advocate of my most authentic and free self. Addressing the log in my own eye means criticizing others less… and also getting real about my own healing journey.

From where inside of myself do these judgments bubble up? Which part of me is so insistent on changing or controlling other people? He wants to heal whatever wound inside of me is sparking those reactions.

I often think of the saints as just people who had way more discipline than me to do what’s right. And, let’s be honest, that’s probably the case. But maybe the saints were also people whose deep-down, authentic healing, through Christ, led them to be truly themselves. Maybe their merciful words and loving charity flowed from the abundance of their authentically healed heart, not the memorization of a rule.

Am I allowing His words to guide me in the healing I need?

May we allow ourselves to be healed and may our thoughts, words, and actions flow from the authentically good treasure and abundance of our hearts.




Catherine Burnham

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