The Blame Game

The devil is such a pro at playing the game he likes to call, The Blame Game. Find fault. Point the accusing finger. Watch people squirm. This game may be older than dirt, but the devil still finds it rewarding because willing participants are oh so plentiful.

The church is not exempt from pointing the finger either. We still at times succumb to that underlying draw to lay blame, and as a result we are hemorrhaging from severed limbs. Try as I might to stay clear of this game that divides, the Lord convicted me a while back for pointing my finger at some finger pointers. Rats! Thus, this blog.

As is the devil’s custom, he introduces his game by luring mankind into sin through deceitful lusts, longings, and confidences of our sinful nature that draw hearts away from trusting God. Clearly, someone is to blame for this foible in our makeup. The just penalty for sin must be imposed. Little do potential players know that trying to shirk responsibility for their own sin guarantees them a seat at the game. Diverting blame onto others then places their starting bets on the table. The devil smiles at how quickly they fall for it. Not much has changed since the Garden.[i]

In all high-stakes games, there are winners and there are losers. Those who participate in the devil’s Blame Game get to be both—gain the world, lose our souls.[ii] One would think we’d wise up over the generations. But that internal itch to lay hold of something better than the cards God gives us in life (and our coming short of reaching it), keeps the game going strong.[iii]

The player seated across from the devil studies the cards he’s been dealt. Not all that impressive of a hand when the world offers so much more. At least he’s holding The Joker. If he plays this wild card right, it just might score him a Not Guilty in God’s eyes when he goes for that “something better”. But then again, there’s that twinge in his conscience he can’t seem to shake. He clears his throat. Okay, so there might be some guilt on his part for not being satisfied with what he has, but who can resist when riches are right there at his fingertips?[iv] 

At least he came by it honestly. It’s all Adam and Eve’s fault, really. They’re to blame. If they hadn’t partaken in what was off limits in the Garden, inherent sin wouldn’t exist for all the rest. Those two originals felt no guilt for passing the buck— ‘But God, this woman you gave me’—so who would blame him for throwing them under the bus to save his own hide? The man pulls out his Joker, and with a shrug, plays it.

A smile spreads over the lips of the player next to him. Isn’t that just like the devil to so casually call attention to sin and guilt? He should know; he was the one who baited Adam and Eve into sinning in the first place, so they’d leave the game shamefaced. If anyone’s to blame for sin, it’s the devil. He bluffed them so he could have everything for himself.

The man glances at his cards. It’s probably not the best hand anyone’s ever held, but he’s feeling lucky. If the devil can get away with bluffing to get ahead in this world, so can he. He raises his bet.

The player to his right scans his cards, knowing he’s expected to match the man’s bet or fold. His shoulders droop. If God hadn’t dealt him such a lousy hand in the first place, he just might’ve had a chance to make something of his life. But no, just his rotten luck. Had God wanted him to prosper, He would have assisted instead of guilting.[v] Right? He’s to blame. Like always, He’s not here just like He wasn’t there for Adam and Eve, or for Job. Some things never change.

And speaking of guilt, if God is all that fired up about sin wouldn’t he be doing something about it? But as it is, things are just as they were from the beginning.[vi] With a few choice words, he tosses his cards onto the table and leaves the game.

On his way out, someone makes a smug remark about the chip on his shoulder. Words are exchanged and none of them too kindly. 

The player beside the man who folded makes a comment he believes will defuse the conflict—then recoils when it backfires on him. The others are right; who made him the referee? He’s always doing stupid things like butting in as if he’s some know it all. Why can’t he learn to mind his own business? And what made him think he could play this game anyway, when he’s never been good at anything? The man withdraws from the game, shamefaced and blaming himself.

The player beside him shakes his head as he looks on in disbelief. Wouldn’t you know, the one time he’s holding what could very well be his winning hand in life, and he’s stuck with these schmucks who can’t keep their cool. They need to grow up and get a life. He glances at his cards. It’s their fault if this game ends before he gets to do something with these beautiful Aces he’s holding.

In this hurting and fragmented world, it’s safe to assume that we’ve all engaged in the devil’s blame game at some point in time. In an attempt to get ahead in life, we’ve let desire compromise our convictions (if only for a moment). To resist change in ourselves, we’ve made excuses and withdrawn to our separate corners. To avoid taking responsibility for our actions we’ve placed fault elsewhere. To shirk negative consequences for those actions, we’ve pointed the finger. And then we wonder why things aren’t working out so well. [vii]

We’ve blamed our parents and ancestors, even our dreadful upbringing for those stubborn vices and imperfections we haven’t yet obtained victory over.  

We’ve jokingly said, “The devil made me do it”, while holding the conviction that he really does have power over us.

We’ve blamed God for dealing us a crummy hand in life, for not being in our corner when the going got rough, or for favoring others over us.

We’ve blamed others for messing up our opportunities to win in life, or for causing us damage.

We’ve blamed ourselves for our many, many failings and believed the voice of shame that tells us we don’t have what it takes to be a winner in life.

The devil will always find willing participants for his blame game. But the buck can stop here and now at the foot of the cross—where mercy is extended, and forgiveness flows upon repentance, and sins are washed in the Blood. It’s where the guilty are made righteous, and where our failures mature us, and sin’s consequences beckon us to reach deeper into Him. The cross is where desire is fulfilled in love, and identity is shaped through love, and where the ‘But God this woman you gave me’ ends and we finally dwell together with Love.

Photo by Andrea DeSantis on Unsplash

[i] 1 John 2:16; Genesis 3; James 4:1–3; Ephesians 4:22–24; James 1:14–15

[ii] Mark 8:36–38

[iii] Genesis 3:6; 1 John 2:16–17

[iv] Hebrews 13:5

[v] Matthew 25:24

[vi] 2 Peter 2:10; 2 Peter 3:1–18; Jeremiah 17:15

[vii] 1 Corinthians 4:5; 1 Corinthians 13:4–8; Galatians 5:14–15; 1 Peter 5:8; James 4:11–12; Proverbs 16:28; Proverbs 28:13; Ephesians 4:31–32; Matthew 7:3–5