Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked
nor stands in the way of sinners
nor sits in the seat of the scornful.

Interesting negative blessing. Blessed is the one who does not do these things.

I’m pretty good at not following the advice of the wicked. And while we all default to sin, this refers to not going along with the deliberately sinful.

But who are the scornful?

If I’m blessed to stay out of their seats, I should recognize them.

I guess probably talk radio. But that’s OK, I’m not into talk radio. Maybe the ultra-complainers. We all know at least one Debbie Downer. I used to complain about so much–everything ended with a sigh. Oh, me.

Perhaps the critical people–the ones impossible to please. My husband could tell you I’ve had my seasons of criticizing everything and everyone.

Maybe the people always going on a rant about something. I get on a soapbox once in a while, but it seems some people need something to be mad about in order to be happy, right?

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that scoffing and scorn are deeply ingrained habits.

What exactly is scorn?

Some synonyms, and different ways this word is translated in this passage include: scoffer, scornful, mocker.

The definition of Scorn from Miriam-Webster is:

1. open dislike and disrespect or derision often mixed with indignation;
2. an expression of contempt or derision;
3. an object of extreme disdain, contempt, or derision: something contemptible.

What does this mean to me?

This isn’t so frightening when it’s abstract, but what about if I examine my own words?

“Oh, I can’t believe she did it again. I have told her a million times. She will ruin her life if she keeps this up.” Scoffing.

“Look at him, playing that stupid game again.” Contempt.

“If this kid doesn’t stop breaking everything in this house! He’ll break everything we own before he turns 8.” Disdain.

“She told me she brushed her teeth, but I caught her lying! Toothbrush is dry as a bone.” Contempt.

“She is so insecure. Look at the way she keeps trying to prove herself.” Scorn.

“I’d never hire him; he’s so irresponsible.” Scoffing.

“I can’t believe anybody could have voted for her.” Derision.

“He put his white socks in the dark hamper again. Doesn’t he have eyes?” Contempt.

I can’t help but notice that in the Psalm the wicked and the sinners are going somewhere – they are walking and they have a path. But the scornful have seats. They have set themselves up in their seats to look down on others in judgment.

Where is grace, redemption, and hope? Where is love? Love always hopes, always trusts, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

Scorn anticipates failure–even hopes for failure.

Scorn wants to see disaster, so that it can gloat in its own indignant self-righteousness.

“I told you so” is a scoffer’s favorite phrase.

How do I know this?  Oh, God, forgive me. 

Does this mean you can’t call a bad idea what it is? No. Does this mean not to offer constructive criticism? Of course not. Warning and correcting are done in love–with hope of growth and transformation. Scorn comes with shame and condemnation.

Scorn is a heart matter

Jesus addressed this heart when he pointed out the prayer of the religious leader in the temple one day. The leader’s prayer is  full of what could sound so righteous–if that were how God counted righteousness:

“He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee, and another a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” Luke 18:9-14 ESV [emphasis mine]

At its root, scornfulness is sitting in proud judgment over someone or something else. Scornfulness pronounces condemnation, leaving no room for God’s merciful intervention.

We can’t be simultaneously faith-full and scorn-full

If there were only horizontal interactions, it would be logical and justifiable to compare and look down on others. Obviously, if it’s just me and you, one of us has to be better or worse.

But to scoff at another human, with God observing, isn’t that like one of us overhearing one mosquito tell another mosquito that he’s a tiny, miserable pest? Like, come on, guys, neither one of you is a butterfly, and you’re both nasty little blood-suckers.

[bctt tweet=”Scoffing is when we look down on someone without hope of change.” username=”cindymchen”]

Now how on earth can we get out of this cycle? I have been appalled at the way that I have thought and spoken these many years. After I told Sam all about this process, how God had convicted me, how I was beginning to understand the connection between judgment, scorn, delight, and freedom, oh my gosh! My reactions were horrid. All weekend I was glaring at him with my words.

That I can recognize the issue does not mean that I have totally overcome the issue. Amen?

I’m so very thankful that the Holy Spirit does not scorn us for our imperfection. When the he brings conviction, He only ever convicts with hope. God “smote” me with this. It hit me between the eyes. Yet as I wrestled with this, I was overwhelmingly grateful for the next phrase in Psalm 1:

“But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night.”

Since then, my every thought or statement has been filtered through whether or not it is scornful. This has been work. But in the process he showed me a remedy: to delight in God’s character.

Continued in part 2.