When a Father's Son Can't See His Goodness

A close friend recently shared his deep concern about his father — a servant-hearted pastor who's given decades to his community. My friend believes his father's pride has crossed into idolatry, specifically for teaching that Jesus is God and encouraging people to worship Him.

He's convinced this spiritual error is so serious it could cost his father his eternal soul. From my perspective, having known this family for twenty-five years, the intensity of his judgment feels rooted in old wounds rather than purely theological disagreement. As a young man, my friend often felt like the black sheep — too edgy, never quite measuring up to the pastor’s kid image.

He carried a deep sense that his parents didn’t truly see or approve of him. Recently, a new mentor figure entered his life, someone who finally affirms him and tells him he has great potential and a special calling. This man has even earned the family’s respect — in fact, he was the one who warned my friend’s father about an impending heart attack last year, literally saving his life.

My hope is that this mentor is intentionally testing my friend’s character. Perhaps he’s watching to see if his protégé can honor his father despite past hurts, or if he’ll throw his dad under the bus to prove his loyalty to new authority. So far, my friend remains completely aligned with his own interpretation of this mentor’s perspective. He focuses relentlessly on his father’s flaws while struggling to see and show gratitude for the good man who raised him.

This brings to mind Jesus’ words in Matthew 7, where he warns against noticing the karphos — a tiny speck — in your brother’s eye while ignoring the dokos — a massive beam or log — in your own. The text urges us to first remove our own massive blind spot before attempting to help someone with their minor fault. Unforgiveness and bitterness only deepen these wounds. Scripture warns in Hebrews 12:15 to watch carefully that no "root of bitterness" springs up and causes trouble, defiling many.

Ephesians 4:31–32 puts it plainly: get rid of all bitterness along with rage and anger, and instead be kind, tenderhearted, forgiving one another as God in Christ forgave you. When bitterness takes hold, it twists our vision, causing us to magnify others’ shortcomings while staying blind to their goodness — and our own logs.

Regardless of our parent's shortcomings, we owe them a deep thanks simply for the fact that we exist because of their own choices. Every breath we take, every opportunity we have, and everything we’re able to do in this life is only possible because they brought us into the world. Even their imperfections and struggles have helped shape who we are today, bringing us to this place.

My friend sees idolatry in his father’s reverence for Christ, yet appears blind to how he himself has elevated his mentor to a place of almost unquestioned authority.

The very judgment he levels at his father may reveal his own struggle with misplaced devotion. Watching this unfold has been a sobering reminder: our unresolved pain can distort how we see those closest to us. True maturity isn’t found in tearing down or condemning anyone — it’s found in having eyes to see both their humanity and their goodness.