This post at The Heresy struck a chord with me for a couple of reasons.
Yesterday I got two emails about a blogger. That has only happened one other time this blog has been running. The situations are similar.

I had difficulties a couple of years ago with an abusive person, so I understand how we can be angered or hurt. And I think in responding to emails about someone mad monstering through a comment section or sending abusive emails, or being disrespectful - we need to respond to the person that is hurt with care, without gossip and without glee. The nature of interactivity in blogging means we are going to run into all kinds of cultures, personalities and nuances. Some people squander good will, some find it impossible to dialogue or hear what others are saying. Their agenda takes precedent and they are unable to respect your space, you viewpoint and your commenters.

A lot of people have asked me about my recent post about anonymous commenters. The truth is I haven’t had that many. No one has recently written anything particularly offensive. I find people unwilling to stand behind what they say repulsive. I’ve seen people hurt on blogs because of this. I’ve seen people hurt in churches and other Christian communities. I’ve watched too many good pastors get destroyed inside because of people who are unwilling to deal with conflict biblically. The critics prefer anonymity and passive aggressive politicking. I think we’ve grown far too tolerant of those who tear down rather than build up. We’ve come to the point where we can’t use the word “sin” to describe what any one does.

The word sin means ‘missing the mark.’ It is an archers term for the arrow missing the target. Every human being misses the mark. But not every human being is willing to acknowledge that.

A friend comes to your door with muddy boots. You’ve just cleaned the floors. Before you can say anything in they come, plunk themselves down at the kitchen table for a coffee and a chat.
You probably don’t say anything about the boots. It’s just a bit of mud after all and this is a friend. But there is a wee kernal of resentment and frustration.
The next time your friend shows up he has his muddy boots on. As you greet him, you ask him to take his boots off before coming in the door. And he doesn’t hear you. In he comes, boots, mud and all. Your resentment becomes about more than mud. You are hurt because your friend isn’t listening, and they can’t respect something you’ve been clear about, even if it is small.

The next time your friend shows up at the door with his muddy boots on, what are you going to do?