Weighing Scale

As I scrolled mindlessly through the chaos of the digital world, I stumbled upon something that stopped me cold—a movie trailer. Not just any trailer, but for the film Malcolm X. One line struck me like a bolt of lightning: An actor called Baines attempts to explain away his leaders' sins, telling Malcolm “The deeds of a wise man far outweigh his weaknesses.”

Baines then follows to give examples of history’s flawed yet celebrated Bible figures, who, despite their glaring sins, were remembered for their greatness. Take David, he says. He committed adultery with Bathsheba, yet was still hailed as a mighty king. Solomon, who despite his insatiable lust for more than 700 wives, was revered as the wisest man who ever lived. Noah, once ridiculed as a drunkard, was still chosen to build the ark that would save humanity. 

Jonah comes to my mind. He ran from his divine mission, only to become the herald of God’s message. And Moses—he let his anger overcome him and struck the rock, yet still, he was the one to lead his people out of Egyptian bondage.

Several men had imperfections but still served God.

This is how we often rationalize our own shortcomings at times, isn’t it? We cling to these stories, cherry-picking the moments of triumph while conveniently ignoring the repentance that followed. Many of us commit acts of charity, toss a few coins to the needy, pay tithe, help build churches or participate in church activities and declare ourselves righteous. We inflate our deeds, imagining them as scales tipping in our favor before God. The wealthy are especially prone to this illusion—believing that their philanthropy buys them a ticket to heaven, when in truth, they are merely feeding their own pride.

We become blind, comparing our sins to those of ancient biblical figures, thinking, “Surely, my mistakes are not as severe.” We wrap ourselves in a false sense of security, leaning more on our flawed reasoning than on the divine truth. But, in the end, we deceive only ourselves.

I've been guilty of the same sin, so as I speak, I speak to myself as well. I remember hearing whispers about well-respected church members who had supposedly committed certain sins yet still stood in the pulpit to preach. I found myself thinking, "If even these men of God can sin and continue serving, then why not me? After all, I’m just a young man enjoying life, hurting no one."

In that moment, I was passing judgement and measuring my salvation by comparing myself to others.

There is a verse that often whispers through the noise: “All the ways of a man are clean in his own eyes; but the Lord weigheth the spirits.” We have crafted our own definitions of what it means to be "good," completely disregarding God’s standards. And with this delusion, we march through life—laughing, sinning, without remorse or repentance. We may fool ourselves, but there is one whom we cannot deceive.

Jeremiah reminds us, “I, the Lord, search the heart, I try the reins, even to give every man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of his doings.” And Galatians warns us: “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”

The time will come when we will stand naked before the truth. To the righteous, it will be said, “It shall be well with you, for you will eat the fruit of your deeds.” But woe unto the wicked! Their reward is already written—the price of their sins will be exacted upon them, not in the currency of earthly judgment, but in the unflinching justice of God.

In this life, we may smirk at our sins, mask them with good deeds, but the scales are not ours to balance. That reckoning is God's, His judgment and its Inevitable.