Who will be wrong first? Blame, responsibility, and the power to repair
We’re early to Costco, my 3-year-old son and me.
He’s holding a roly-poly in the backseat who’s made the trek with us, unaware of his unlucky predecessors littering the floorboards.
I feel heavy this morning after scrolling Instagram for a few minutes. It’s not on my phone anymore, but I had to log in for work on my laptop, and the effects are lingering.
The tone of our communal conversation feels insurmountable.
When did we start trashing everyone who disagrees with us?
Why do we feel the need to carry the burden of the entire world from our little corner?
And worst of all, how is everything always someone else’s fault?
I know Donald Trump exists. I know he calls women “piggy” and posts AI photos depicting himself as Jesus Christ. And I know that liberals are dismissing conservatives with a broad brush and demanding an impossible pace of progress.
We’ve got a lot of important and complex topics to cover, but is that even possible in this state?
The feces are flying, we’ve made a really big mess, and somehow, no one is responsible for the shit on the walls.
Just log into Instagram, and you’ll see…or don’t, and delete it from your phone instead.
When my thoughts spiral in despair like they are now in the Costco parking lot, I can only withstand the devastation for so long before I brainstorm solutions.
How do we even begin cleaning up this really big mess?
I’ve got a new idea that’s actually an old idea, and I want to share it with you today:
Blame gives power away because it makes repair someone else’s job.
Responsibility takes power back because it asks what part of the repair belongs to us.
This does not mean absorbing harm or calling avoidance “peace,” but rather, taking responsibility for the role that is actually ours.
This means that we own what we can, give grace for what we can’t, and resist the urge to make healing someone else’s job.
This is the work of reconciliation, and it’s laughably contradictory in a Blame Culture like ours, which sounds more like:
“They caused the problem, so they need to fix it.”
“This wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for them.”
“I would be more peaceful if they stopped being so stupid.”
Really, any version of what I hear my kids say all the time, “but they started it!”
What we haven’t realized yet is that blame is powerlessness.
If a problem is someone else’s fault, and it’s their responsibility alone to fix it, then they have all the power, and we lose agency like a roly-poly in the hand of a toddler.
But when we take responsibility, we are empowered, and we can bring kindness, compassion, and maturity into any situation.
It’s a subtle shift, and it requires an awareness of our own egos and the ability to practice true humility.
The ego hates to be blamed, hence our quick, unconscious need to blame someone else.
Sure, sometimes that blame is warranted. There will always be people who are causing more problems, but that’s why peacemaking is such a big deal in the New Testament:
Peacemakers are essential in a world full of problem creators.
And Christians are specifically called to peace, to bringing spiritual maturity to the most immature conversations, to choosing the work of reconciliation over being right.
But peacemaking is a tall order for the ego because it requires us to focus on our own role and agency, even if that’s only:
1. To do our part to solve the problem
2. To extend grace and understanding to those who don’t deserve it
A role that’s painfully biblical.
Like I said, sitting in this parking lot trapped in the car with a roly-poly, I have a new idea that’s actually really old, one the Bible lays out on repeat to make sure it’s heard by the guy in the back:
Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone.
If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.
Love your enemies.
And if you’re thinking “that sounds like a raw deal,” you’re exactly right.
It feels a lot like being the adult in the room—biting your tongue, self-regulating, taking a minute so that you can show up for people the way you know you can.
But lately, we’ve become so focused on who’s to blame for our biggest issues that we’ve stopped focusing on being the light of the world, the ones who bring love to conflict and peace to turmoil.
Blame points fingers rather than doing the work of repair, it punishes the wrongdoer instead of finding a way to set us all free, and in this way, we’re contributing to the problem.
Question for you: When was the last time you blamed someone else for something that went wrong?
Blame is powerlessness. Responsibility is power.
Let me be clear, responsibility isn’t absorbing the harm that another person has caused or bypassing accountability.
Accountability for wrongdoing is a separate conversation, one that involves consequences, repair, and changed behavior, and it isn’t achieved with blame. Most people don’t change when they’re blamed or attacked, they change when everyone around them progresses, and they’re invited into that progress.
Responsibility is a step we take outside of and despite other people, modeling what it means to be an active force for peace and goodness.
And I hate to say it (again), but this shift requires an immense amount of humility and awareness of our own ego needs.
If you’re noticing that you’re still the one doing most of the work, you are correct…I told you reconciliation was a raw deal.
I’ll give you an example from my own life.
Last summer, my parents decided to get remarried after seven long years apart…great story, will tell later.
They told us that we could plan the whole thing, so my brother and I got to work.
We had very different ideas of what it could look like, and when we disagreed, I did my best to explain how I felt and what my own hopes for the day were. The conversations were calm and, to the best of my knowledge, mutually beneficial.
Hours later when he made a passive aggressive comment, I learned that he felt bulldozed by me in that conversation. He said that I “took control” and made their day about me.
The truth was that I didn’t know his desires because he didn’t name them clearly. He thought he was communicating well, but I had no idea there was a breakdown.
Naturally, my ego wanted to fight back.
“You never said what you wanted!”
“How dare you call me controlling.”
“Why would you just assume I’m selfish rather than giving me the benefit of the doubt and asking me about it?”
My ego needed to be vindicated, but I saw him beyond that.
He didn’t really know what he was feeling or why, and even though his communication was clumsy and hurtful, he wasn’t trying to hurt me. He felt frustrated, and I was to blame.
So I stepped back, gave my ego a pep talk “you’re good, girl,” and took the responsibility that I could.
I apologized for making him feel unheard and unimportant. I told him I would never want him to feel like what he wants doesn’t matter to me. I asked him to tell me how he’s feeling next time because I would always listen and care.
I didn’t vindicate myself.
I didn’t demand that he take responsibility for his part.
I just took responsibility for mine, and then?
I let it go.
And honestly, it sucked for a few days. My inner critic had a lot to say about this decision.
“You let yourself be blamed for something that wasn’t your fault.”
“He never communicated!”
“Now he’s going to think he did everything right, and you did everything wrong!”
The ego scripts were predictable, but I chose to participate in the healing of someone else’s wound rather than demand that someone else heal mine.
This was an empowered choice, and the more I make it, the more I understand just how powerful it is.
He felt seen and loved, and I didn’t need anything in return.
Another question: Who are you still waiting on to own their part before you’ll own yours?
“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” Philippians 2:3-4
Christian maturity is the willingness to participate in repair before your ego gets the vindication it wants.
In an ideal world, we would all choose humility, own what we can, and value one another more than we value our own egos.
And if we are people of faith, that is the calling.
Humility inherently humiliates the ego because the ego likes to be right, blameless, and superior, but Jesus tells us that “the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
So how do we proceed?
First of all, unfollow everyone on Instagram that blames first and only. Don’t allow that toxic static that feeds powerlessness and resentment into your days.
Second, when you’re in a contentious situation, figure out what it means to be empowered and humble, and take responsibility where you can.
Third, let’s begin to change the cultural conversation by praising whoever takes ownership first and affirming the ones who are the first to repair.
Let’s find creative ways to recognize the people choosing grace and humility over self-righteousness, aka being right.
It’s time to call blame culture by its full name so that we can begin dismantling it.
Final question: What can you take responsibility for that would bring more peace and healing into your life?
It feels like a new idea this morning in the Costco parking lot, but it’s actually pretty old:
Responsibility reflects spiritual maturity, while blame reflects spiritual immaturity.
The ego wants to be right, but the soul wants reconciliation.
And maybe twenty years from now, all of the roly-poly-holding toddlers of today will learn how to solve problems instead of blaming whoever caused them.
Christianity can be the light again, not because we found someone else to blame for the state of the world, but because we became people willing to repair it.