judges with evil thoughts

I've been listening to a sermon by Don Carson called "How to think about money," on 1 Timothy 6:3-19. I was particularly challenged by what he said about the danger of wanting material things:

The fact of the matter is that we eventually get into some pattern of one-upmanship, of wanting more. It becomes part of our self-identity, doesn’t it? As soon as we are identified with what we possess, then our ultimate delight is not being identified as forgiven sinners, God’s children.

Our ultimate delight is being identified as belonging to a certain economic social stratum.

The thing is so subtle, isn’t it, even when we think we’re beating it. You start off and you’re really content to have that beat-up, rattle-trap 15-year-old rust-bucket of a Chevrolet. But somewhere along the line you have the money for an Audi or a BMW and then without in any sense trying to be condescending or arrogant, it’s just so easy to pull up at a stop-sign and see a rust-bucket of a Chevrolet next to you and think that you’re a little better. Or you fly economy class and then you get bumped up to business class and you feel just a wee bit of pity for those people back in the cattle-car.

Isn’t that right? Our self-identity begins to get connected with these things. And it’s at every level, isn’t it? It’s painful, so sinful are we. Instead of being justified by grace through faith before God, we’re justified, at least in part, in our own eyes, in the eyes of those around us, by how well we’re doing.

What he said reminded me of this passage:

My brothers, as believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ, don't show favouritism. Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in shabby clothes also comes in. If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, "Here's a good seat for you," but say to the poor man, "You stand there" or "Sit on the floor by my feet," have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts? (James 2:1-4)

I am deeply ashamed of the attitudes these words brought to light in me.

I have a fairly privileged background. Not incredibly wealthy, just somewhere in the spectrum of the educated middle class.

I went to a public primary school, a private high school, and a respected university, where I completed a year of Medicine (as expected when you get good marks at a private school) before transferring to Arts, which sounded far more interesting. Arts eventually turned into a history PhD, which means that I have the dubious privilege of calling myself "Doctor" (although I don't very often) and of potentially regarding myself as better educated than most of the humans on this planet.

What I gained from my private high school - besides a safe and secure environment, an unfamiliarity with boys, and the ability to pass exams with flying colours - was a subtle and enduring snobbery.

I always thought I'd managed to avoid this. I compared myself with some of my friends, who clearly looked down on those who were less well-educated ("They really can't talk at the same level, can they?").

But is it possible to be uninfluenced by 6 formative years in a school which prides itself so highly on its test scores? Where virtually the only non-white faces were from North East Asia? Where you regularly hear snide remarks about the moccasin-wearing bogans of Melbourne's working-class suburbs?

I didn't realise how deeply I'd been influenced by my background - and this is where it gets embarrassing, so bear with me - until Steve and I bought a house in a "working class" suburb 7 years ago.

Suddenly, I was standing in the play ground of the local school, waiting for my children to come out of class, surrounded by women from a different background to my own. It was hard not to subtly look down on them, or feel intimidated by them, on the superficial basis of accents, hairstyles, clothing. I found myself grasping for topics of conversation, and hiding the fact that I'd ever heard of a PhD, let alone done one.

My discomfort has faded with time. I've made lots of friends, and have discovered what I knew theoretically all along: that we are all much the same under the skin. Some mothers are cliquey, others stand-offish, and others kind and friendly, it doesn't matter what suburb they come from.

(And while writing this, I've become aware of a more subtle kind of snobbery: the reverse snobbery which takes pride in our relatively low status, which subtly despises those who are wealthy and socially sophisticated, people who make me feel uncomfortable by their refined tones, aloof manner and polished etiquette.)

How easy it is to become a "judge with evil thoughts"! To treat people differently on the basis of wealth, education, social position. To avoid someone just because they don't look like the kind of person I could relate to. To despise people at the most unacknowledged level, with the kinds of attitudes we would be deeply ashamed of sharing with anyone else.

God help me to regard every person as they are: an eternal creature of immense value made in his image, with a desperate need for forgiveness and relationship with him, and the infinite potential to become a beloved and joyous child of God.