I’ve been thinking about blind spots lately. Have you ever wondered why it’s so easy to spot other people’s blind spots but so hard to see our own? Our lives and beliefs are nuanced and complex (or so we tell ourselves), while others need to “get it together already.”
This shows up in today’s political climate. Each group is convinced they’ve found that sweet spot of sound reasoning and clear thinking. Conservatives believe they’re taking a reasonable stand against moral decay, while liberals feel they’re fighting for justice and equality. Even those claiming the middle ground (guilty!) are certain they’ve struck the perfect balance. This certainty shows up just as strongly within the church. Whether debating policy or doctrine, we’re convinced our stance is the most sensible. If only others had our insight, they’d surely see things our way!
Picture three passengers on a boat in choppy waters. Each stands in their spot, convinced they’ve found the perfect stance. One at the front leans heavily right, certain this compensates for the boat’s tilt. Another at the back leans left, just as confident. A third stands straight up in the middle, believing they’ve found the true center. Each watches the others with concern—“If only they knew to stand like me!”
We can hold fast to truth while maintaining a learner’s heart before God.
But here’s what’s interesting: if you took the time to walk to different positions on the boat, you’d understand why each person leans the way they do. The front pitches more dramatically with each wave. The back sways with its own unique motion. That person leaning hard to the right? They’re responding to real forces you might not feel in your position.
The wisdom isn’t in judging their stance from afar, but in understanding why they stand as they do. What if our humility opened the door to genuine curiosity about others? When we’re curious, we draw closer. When we’re closer, we begin to truly empathize. And when we empathize, we connect. Isn’t this how Jesus ministered—drawing near, understanding people’s real struggles, and meeting their deepest needs with love and truth?
Look back at yourself five, 10, or 20 years ago. Feel that twinge of embarrassment at the positions you held with such certainty? If you’ve grown this much in such a short time, shouldn’t that humble you about your firmly held views?
Yet this doesn’t mean we should waver in uncertainty. We can stand firmly in our convictions because we trust in God’s leading through His Word. He promises to guide us into all truth (John 16:13) as we are willing. The key is holding this confidence while recognizing that many who disagree with us may be just as sincere in their own journey with God.
Our Adventist heritage beautifully demonstrates this balance. Early believers stood firmly on biblical truth while remaining open to deeper understanding. The Sabbath, for example, was an ancient truth waiting to be rediscovered by those willing to be taught. Like them, we can hold fast to truth while maintaining a learner’s heart before God. As we trust His leading, may our conviction inspire curiosity about others’ journeys, for through these connections God may reveal even more of His light. Perhaps then, in our polarized world, the most powerful testimony isn’t our unwavering stance on issues, but our unwavering love for those who see them differently (John 13:35).
