Grace, Judgment, and Getting Back to the Basics of Faith

Lately, I’ve found myself wrestling with something that’s been gnawing at the edges of my faith: the way some Christians draw hard lines, deciding who’s “in” and who’s “out” based on politics, theology, or lifestyle choices. It’s as if we’ve forgotten that Christ’s message wasn’t about creating divisions—it was about tearing them down.

Jesus didn’t come to complicate things. He didn’t call us to legalism, judgment, or self-righteousness. Over and over, He pushed back against the religious leaders of His day, telling them to stop being so extra—to stop burdening people with rules that missed the heart of what God really wants from us.

So why does it feel like we’re still stuck in that same cycle of gatekeeping, judgment, and division?

Getting Back to the Basics of Christ’s Message

When you strip everything back to its core, Jesus’ message was simple: Love God. Love your neighbor. That’s it.

He wasn’t impressed by outward shows of righteousness or rigid rule-following. His harshest words were for the Pharisees—the religious elite who were more concerned with maintaining power and appearances than with practicing love, mercy, and justice.

In Matthew 23, Jesus calls them out, saying, “You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence.” He wasn’t interested in surface-level faith. He wanted hearts that were open, humble, and compassionate.

But somewhere along the way, we’ve complicated things again. We’ve added layers of politics, theology, and personal bias, turning faith into a checklist or a weapon rather than a relationship with God.

The Problem with Gatekeeping Faith

It’s hard to watch modern Christian influencers and leaders fall into the same traps Jesus spoke against. Whether it’s over denominational differences, political views, or personal choices, people are quick to decide who’s a “real” Christian and who isn’t.

But here’s the thing: Jesus didn’t draw lines in the sand to keep people out. He broke barriers to bring people in. He ate with tax collectors, healed the sick, and spoke to outcasts. He didn’t shy away from people who were messy, broken, or different.

When we start using faith as a tool to exclude, we miss the entire point of the Gospel. Christ didn’t come for the perfect—He came for all of us. The moment we start deciding who belongs and who doesn’t, we’re stepping into the very role Jesus condemned.

Sin Doesn’t Disqualify Belief

One of the most damaging ideas floating around in Christian circles today is that sin—especially public sin—somehow disqualifies someone from faith. But the truth is, we all fall short.

Romans 3:23 says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” That’s not just some people—it’s everyone. Secret sins, public failures, mistakes we haven’t even fully faced yet—they’re all part of being human. But none of them cancel out belief in Christ.

Even if sins remain unforgiven—not because Christ’s forgiveness isn’t available, but because we haven’t sought it out or accepted it—that doesn’t mean our faith disappears. Christ’s love isn’t conditional. It’s not based on perfection. It’s based on grace.

Grace Doesn’t Define Someone Else’s Walk—It Leaves Them to Be Loved

Here’s the heart of it: Grace isn’t about controlling someone else’s journey. It’s not about setting the terms for how someone should live, believe, or grow. Grace creates space for people to be loved, exactly as they are, wherever they are on their path.

Jesus didn’t say, “Get your life together, and then you can follow me.” He said, “Come as you are.” He met people in their mess, in their doubts, in their failures. And His grace didn’t come with strings attached.

Too often, we want to define others’ faith journeys by our own standards. But grace doesn’t operate like that. It doesn’t say, “You have to believe exactly like I do to be loved by God.” It simply says, “You’re loved. Full stop.”

That kind of grace is powerful. It frees people from shame, fear, and the pressure to be perfect. It creates space for authentic faith to grow—not through judgment or coercion, but through love.

Wrestling with the Weight of History: The Crusades, Slavery, and Institutional Sin

This idea of grace and accountability doesn’t just apply to individuals—it applies to how we view history, institutions, and the collective failures of those who’ve come before us.

Take the Crusades, for example. These were wars fought not only against other religions but also against fellow Christians over theological differences. Under the banner of the cross, people committed atrocities that stood in direct contradiction to the teachings of Christ. The Crusades were about power, politics, and control—but they were justified in the name of faith.

It’s easy to look back and think, How could they get it so wrong? But the truth is, we still see echoes of that same misuse of faith today—when people weaponize Christianity to dominate, exclude, or oppress others.

The same questions come up when we look at American history. Do we throw out the good of figures like Thomas Jefferson or George Washington because of their sins? These men helped shape foundational ideas of democracy and liberty, yet they were complicit in the horrors of slavery.

And what about institutions like the Southern Baptist Convention, which was founded on the defense of slavery? Do we cancel them completely? Some people might feel they can’t align with such a history, and that’s valid. Others might choose to engage critically, recognizing that while the roots are flawed, there have been efforts within the denomination to acknowledge and repent for past wrongs.

The point isn’t to ignore or excuse these sins. It’s to hold the tension between grace and accountability. We can recognize the good while being honest about the bad. Grace doesn’t mean pretending the Crusades didn’t happen, or glossing over slavery, or ignoring institutional racism. It means acknowledging those sins, learning from them, and striving to do better moving forward.

The Balance Between Grace and Responsibility

Grace doesn’t erase responsibility. It doesn’t mean sin doesn’t matter. But it does mean that love and forgiveness are always on the table.

Following Christ isn’t about perfection, but it also isn’t about complacency. We’re called to live out our faith through love, justice, and protecting others when needed. There’s a difference between using faith as a weapon and recognizing when it’s necessary to stand up against injustice. Even in those moments, love should be at the center of it all.

And yes, while we should be peacemakers, that doesn’t mean we turn a blind eye when people are suffering. Self-defense and standing up for the vulnerable have their place. Jesus didn’t shy away from confronting injustice—He just did it with truth and love, not with the goal of domination.

Love God. Love People. Show Grace.

At the end of the day, Jesus didn’t come to complicate things—He came to simplify them. Love God. Love people. Show grace.

When we mess up, when others mess up, when the world feels too divided or too broken, that’s the anchor. Grace doesn’t define someone else’s walk—it leaves them to be loved. And maybe, just maybe, if we can get back to those basics, we’ll find a faith that looks a lot more like Jesus and a lot less like the divisions we see today.