We’ve all heard the term ‘you’re preaching to the choir!’ In other words, “Why are you talking to me? Talk to someone who doesn’t already know, like that guy over there who has obviously never been told not to wear sneakers with dress pants.”

Oh, how quick we are to judge each other! Let me tell you what I think of every time I hear ‘you’re preaching to the choir’.

My family attended a southern evangelical church when I was in high school. In the youth group there were two other teens, a brother and sister, who I remember well specifically because of a traumatic event.

It came out that their mother, who was a member of the choir, was having an affair with another choir member. The minister and his wife firmly insisted that the two “offenders” stand up in shame in front of the entire congregation and apologize for their misdeed. I recall it as a modern day Scarlet Letter story. It was humiliating for everyone. The woman stood there alone in a modest dress, her head hung low, her hands folded in front of her, shoulders hunched and shaking gently as she tried to control her sobs. The man was off to the side, barely noticeable to me as my compassion was solely reserved for the woman and her children, my friends, despite what had happened.

Of course, I do not encourage elicit behavior or adultery. However, the larger offense in my mind was the harsh, publicized punishment doled out by the church itself. No compassion, no love, no attempt to gently guide the lost flock back to the fold. The minister instead appointed himself as judge, juror and sentence deliverer. He also more than proved himself a hypocrite that day. A true leader cannot preach the meaning of love and brotherhood to his congregation and then grossly fail to administer it when given the opportunity to show how it is done. Talk about planting stumbling blocks.

Some years later, a friend told me a story about her congregation, a church in the Northeast. The minister had been caught having an affair with a younger woman who did not attend the church. So ashamed of himself, he left the church ministry to live in self-appointed exile. He had been a vibrant and inspiring minister and his absence was felt by many. His wife had enough love in her heart to forgive him and she stayed with him. The congregation, too, forgave him and asked him to return as their beloved minister. It could be told as a story of the choir preaching to the minister about the power of love and forgiveness, the way Jesus taught us to do.

Judge not, my friends. Not one of us is without fault. But, we do all have the capability to love one another and to forgive. We just need to choose to do it.