The Beam

In a prosperous village where merchants and craftsmen lived side by side, there dwelt a man named Gottfried who had gained a reputation throughout the community for his sharp eye and sharper tongue. Gottfried seemed to possess an extraordinary ability to notice even the smallest flaws and mistakes in everyone around him, and he was never hesitant to point them out for all to hear.

Gottfried was a successful cloth merchant who owned a fine shop in the center of the village. He was intelligent, well-educated, and took great pride in his attention to detail and high standards. However, these qualities, which could have made him a valued member of the community, had instead made him one of the most feared and disliked people in the village.

“Look at how Hans the baker has flour on his apron,” Gottfried would announce loudly as he passed the bakery. “A truly professional tradesman would never appear in public looking so untidy.”

When he encountered Anna the seamstress carrying her mending, he would observe critically, “I can see a loose thread hanging from that dress you’re carrying, Anna. Such careless work reflects poorly on your reputation as a seamstress.”

If he saw Wilhelm the carpenter’s apprentice carrying tools, Gottfried would call out, “Young man, that chisel you’re holding has a nick in it. How can you expect to do quality work with damaged tools?”

No one in the village was safe from Gottfried’s critical observations. He found fault with the way people dressed, the condition of their shops, the manners of their children, and even the way they swept their front steps.

“Gottfried sees everything,” the villagers would say to each other, but not with admiration. “He notices every speck of dust, every crooked nail, every wrinkle in our clothes. But his sharp eyes are only for finding fault, never for offering help or encouragement.”

The village pastor, Father Wilhelm, was particularly troubled by Gottfried’s behavior. The good priest had observed that Gottfried’s constant criticism was creating an atmosphere of tension and unhappiness in the community.

“Brother Gottfried,” Father Wilhelm said one day after service, “you have been blessed with keen powers of observation, but I wonder if you might consider using this gift in a more charitable manner.”

Gottfried looked at the priest with surprise. “Father, I only point out what I see. If people would maintain higher standards, there would be nothing to criticize.”

“But tell me,” Father Wilhelm said gently, “when you are so busy examining the faults of others, when do you find time to examine your own conduct and conscience?”

Gottfried waved dismissively. “Father, I maintain the highest standards for myself. My shop is immaculate, my ledgers are perfectly kept, and my conduct is beyond reproach. It’s precisely because I hold myself to such high standards that I can clearly see when others fall short.”

Father Wilhelm smiled sadly and said, “Perhaps, my son, you might spend some time in quiet reflection, asking the Lord to help you see yourself as clearly as you see others.”

But Gottfried was so convinced of his own perfection that he dismissed the priest’s gentle advice and continued his habits of criticism and fault-finding.

One morning, as Gottfried was arranging bolts of cloth in his shop window, he noticed his neighbor Friedrich, the cobbler, working on a pair of shoes in front of his shop. As usual, Gottfried immediately spotted something to criticize.

“Friedrich!” Gottfried called out loudly. “I can see from here that you have a small spot of ink on your leather apron. How unprofessional! No wonder your business isn’t thriving as it should.”

Friedrich looked down at his apron and indeed saw a tiny ink stain, no larger than a fingernail. “You’re right, Gottfried,” Friedrich said patiently. “Thank you for pointing it out.”

But as Gottfried stood there feeling satisfied with his sharp observation, something extraordinary began to happen. A warm, golden light suddenly filled his shop, and in that light, Gottfried began to see himself as he truly was, not as he imagined himself to be.

To his absolute horror, Gottfried discovered that protruding from his own eye was an enormous wooden beam - a massive plank of wood that was so large it was amazing he could move his head at all. The beam was rough and splintered, covered with dirt and debris, and it blocked most of his vision.

“How is this possible?” Gottfried gasped, reaching up to feel the enormous beam that somehow he had never noticed before. “How long has this been there?”

As he struggled to understand what was happening to him, Gottfried began to realize that the beam represented all of his own faults and failings - his pride, his lack of charity, his quick judgment of others, his unwillingness to examine his own conduct, and his habit of causing hurt and discord in his community.

While he had been so busy noticing tiny ink stains on other people’s aprons, he had been completely blind to the massive beam of his own character flaws.

“I have been pointing out motes - tiny specks - in others’ eyes while carrying this enormous beam in my own,” Gottfried said with dawning understanding. “How could I have been so blind to my own faults while being so quick to see the smallest failings in others?”

The golden light seemed to speak to him without words, conveying the message that this vision was a gift - an opportunity to see himself truly and to change his ways before it was too late.

Gottfried spent the entire day in his shop, not serving customers or arranging merchandise, but sitting quietly and thinking about every harsh word he had spoken, every criticism he had made, and every time he had caused someone pain or embarrassment with his fault-finding.

He realized that while he had indeed noticed many small problems and imperfections in others, he had never once offered help, encouragement, or constructive assistance. He had simply pointed out flaws and walked away, leaving people feeling criticized and diminished.

Worse still, he began to understand that his own behavior - his pride, his lack of charity, and his joy in finding fault - were far more serious flaws than any ink stain, loose thread, or untidy appearance he had ever noticed in others.

That evening, Gottfried went to Father Wilhelm and confessed what had happened to him.

“Father,” he said humbly, “I have been shown the truth about myself, and it is humbling indeed. I have been like a man carrying a massive beam in his own eye while criticizing others for having tiny specks in theirs.”

Father Wilhelm listened with compassion and understanding. “My son, the fact that you can now see this truth shows that your heart is capable of change. The question is: what will you do with this knowledge?”

Gottfried spent that night in prayer and reflection, asking for forgiveness for his harsh judgment of others and for the wisdom to change his ways.

The next morning, when Gottfried looked in his mirror, the beam was gone from his eye. But he knew that it would return if he reverted to his old habits of criticism and fault-finding.

From that day forward, Gottfried became a different man. When he noticed problems or difficulties in his community, instead of pointing them out critically, he offered practical help and encouragement.

When he saw Hans the baker with flour on his apron, instead of criticizing, Gottfried said, “Hans, you’ve been working hard this morning! Is there anything I can do to help you with your heavy flour sacks?”

When he encountered Anna the seamstress with her mending, instead of pointing out loose threads, he said, “Anna, your skill with needle and thread is remarkable. Would you be willing to teach my apprentice some of your techniques?”

When he saw Wilhelm’s apprentice with his tools, instead of criticizing their condition, Gottfried said, “Young man, I know a excellent way to sharpen chisels. Would you like me to show you?”

The change in Gottfried was so dramatic that the entire village noticed. People who had previously avoided him began to seek his counsel and friendship. His business prospered as people enjoyed coming to his shop, knowing they would be greeted with kindness rather than criticism.

“What happened to Gottfried?” people would ask each other. “He’s become so helpful and encouraging instead of critical and harsh.”

Those who knew the story would explain: “Gottfried learned to remove the beam from his own eye before trying to remove the specks from others’ eyes. He discovered that when we focus on our own faults and failings, we become much more patient and understanding with the imperfections we see in others.”

Years later, when people in the village would begin to gossip or criticize their neighbors, someone would always tell the story of Gottfried and the beam, reminding everyone that the most important examination we can make is the examination of our own hearts and consciences.

“Before you point out the speck in your neighbor’s eye,” they would say, “make sure you have removed the beam from your own. When we are honest about our own faults and failings, we find that we have much more compassion for the struggles and imperfections of others.”

And Gottfried himself became known not as the man who found fault with everyone, but as the man who had learned to see clearly - both his own need for improvement and the many good qualities in the people around him.

The lesson of the beam became a treasured teaching in the village, passed down from parents to children as a reminder that true wisdom begins with honest self-examination, and that the person who is quickest to judge others is often the one most in need of examining his own character and conduct.

Moral: Before criticizing the small faults in others, we must first examine and correct the larger faults in ourselves. True wisdom begins with honest self-examination and humility.