We live in an age where communication travels at the speed of thought and is broadcast with the simple tap of a finger. Social media platforms, once intended as means of connection, fellowship, and encouragement, have sadly become fertile ground for misunderstanding, division, and even malice. What once might have been said in hushed tones or in the privacy of closed doors is now flung into the world with thoughtless ease. And what’s worse—many of those words are being spoken or typed by individuals who boldly proclaim the name of Christ.
Let us be clear from the very beginning of this message: calling oneself a Christian is not the same as living as a Christian. The true test of faith is not in the title we bear, but in the fruit we produce—in our actions, our speech, and yes, even our online interactions. Christ did not call us to a convenient or selective discipleship. He called us to deny ourselves, to take up our cross daily, and to follow Him in word, in deed, and in character.
It grieves the heart to witness how some have used social media as a modern-day slingshot, hurling criticisms, passive-aggressive jabs, and open condemnation under the guise of righteousness. Behind the veil of a profile picture and a keyboard, they lash out at others, sometimes even at fellow believers, forgetting the very words of the Apostle Paul who wrote, “Never pay back evil with more evil... Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone” (Romans 12:17–18, NLT). Sadly, the weaponization of words—especially in public forums—has become commonplace, and tragically, it often masquerades as spiritual boldness.
But, beloved, true spiritual boldness is not found in tearing others down—it is found in lifting Christ up through grace, truth, and humility. This message is a call to reexamine how we live out our faith, not only in our homes and churches but in our digital lives. It is a challenge to those who bear the name of Christ to also bear His heart in every setting—especially in those places where temptation whispers, “No one will hold you accountable.”
In the verses we will explore today, from Romans 12 and the Gospel of John, we will uncover the mandate to act with Christlike mercy, to extend grace even when it is undeserved, and to let our conduct reflect the One who forgave us when we were at our worst. This is the beginning of repentance for those who have misused their voice, and it is the beginning of healing for those who have been wounded by such misuse.
Let us journey now into the Word of God, with open hearts and yielded spirits, and ask ourselves: Am I truly living what I claim to believe?
The Apostle Paul writes in Romans 12:17–21 (NLT), “Never pay back evil with more evil. Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable. Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone... Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good.”
When the Apostle Paul penned these words to the believers in Rome, he did not write as one who was unfamiliar with persecution or cruelty. He wrote as a man who had suffered beatings, imprisonment, slander, and betrayal—all for the sake of Christ. Yet his exhortation was not to retaliate, not to return insult for insult, but to live in such a way that all could see the honor and holiness of God reflected in the believer’s life.
This is the essence of the first pillar of a God-centered life: keeping God as your focus. When our eyes are fixed on Him, our behavior—our decisions, our reactions, our speech—is filtered through His holiness. We no longer operate out of pride or emotion, but out of reverence and obedience. The Christian who has truly centered their life on God will ask before every interaction, “Will this glorify the Lord?”
Nowhere is this more tested than in our digital lives. In the heat of disagreement, when a post angers us or someone takes a jab at our beliefs, the temptation to fire back is real. But here is the truth, dear brothers and sisters: vengeance belongs to God, not to us. Romans 12:19 says, “Dear friends, never take revenge. Leave that to the righteous anger of God.” The moment we repay evil with evil, whether by word, post, or meme, we have taken our eyes off God and placed them on ourselves.
Social media offers instant gratification. A clever insult. A sarcastic retort. A viral rebuttal. But what does it cost? The approval of men is fleeting, but the favor of God is eternal. When we make Him our focus, we are no longer concerned with “winning” an argument or “clapping back” at someone online. We are instead committed to winning souls, extending grace, and being peacemakers in a hostile world.
We must remember that we are always representing someone higher than ourselves. We are ambassadors of Christ (2 Corinthians 5:20). When others look at our conduct—especially when tensions are high—they should be able to say, “That person walks with God.”
So the question we must all ask ourselves today is simple, but convicting: Are my words—spoken or typed—a reflection of the God I claim to serve? If not, then our focus needs to return to the One who gave us a better way. For the Christian life is not one of retaliation, but of reconciliation. Not of cruelty, but of compassion. Not of pride, but of peace.
In John 8:1–11 (NLT), Jesus looks at the crowd surrounding the woman caught in the act of adultery and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!”
The second pillar of a God-centered life is the importance of family, and this extends far beyond the walls of our homes. It reaches into our churches, our communities, and even our digital fellowship. We are, in Christ, members of one body—a spiritual family called to love, restore, and uplift one another.
In John 8, we are presented with a powerful encounter between Jesus, the Pharisees, and a woman caught in the act of adultery. The religious leaders dragged her publicly into the temple courts, not out of concern for righteousness, but in an attempt to trap Jesus and parade their own self-righteousness. They shamed her, condemned her, and demanded judgment. They saw her as a tool in their plot, not a soul in need of mercy.
But Jesus saw her differently.
Instead of answering their cries for condemnation, He stooped down and wrote in the dust. Then He spoke the words that continue to echo through the centuries: “Let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone.” And one by one, they walked away—silenced not by clever argument, but by the weight of their own guilt. Jesus, the only one qualified to condemn her, offered her forgiveness and a new beginning.
This is the posture we must take—not just in moments of face-to-face confrontation but in our responses online, where modern-day Pharisees often wield their keyboards like stones. It is heartbreaking to see how believers, who are supposed to be part of one spiritual family, often devour each other in public view. Posts meant to encourage become battlefields. Threads of conversation become threads of condemnation. And what is most tragic is that the watching world sees not the grace of Christ, but the fury of religious pride.
Beloved, our families—both biological and spiritual—learn from what we model. Our children see our interactions. Our spouses observe our tone. Our fellow believers take note of our witness. And our words, though typed in pixels, carry weight in the spiritual realm. When we attack others, even in the name of truth, without love and grace, we betray the unity of the body of Christ.
Jesus could have used that moment in the temple to issue a public rebuke of sin. Instead, He issued a private call to repentance and a public display of mercy. What would happen if we, too, embraced mercy over condemnation? What would change in our churches, our homes, and our social media feeds if we acted not out of pride, but out of familial concern for one another's well-being?
To love our spiritual family means to protect one another from shame, to restore gently, to bear burdens, and to reflect the patience and kindness of Christ. This love extends to our online behavior. The anonymity of the internet does not excuse us from biblical decency; it only tests the sincerity of our discipleship.
So I ask you now: Are we casting stones with our posts, or are we stooping down like Jesus, drawing mercy in the dust and offering restoration instead of ruin?
As we draw this message to a close, let us return once more to the powerful words of Paul in Romans 12: “Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good.” And let us recall the voice of our Savior as He stood beside a broken, humiliated woman and declared, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” These are not just holy words preserved on ancient scrolls. They are divine instructions for every believer who walks the path of grace in a world soaked in cruelty.
We have considered the first two pillars of a God-centered life—Keeping God as Your Focus and The Importance of Family. These are not merely theological concepts; they are anchors that keep us grounded in righteousness when the world tempts us toward vengeance, sarcasm, and self-righteousness.
When we keep God at the center, we are reminded that our every action is seen by Him. Nothing is hidden, not even the comments we post or the messages we send in private. Our pursuit is not to be right in the eyes of men, but to be righteous before a holy God.
When we honor our spiritual family—our brothers and sisters in Christ—we reflect the love that binds us together through the blood of the Lamb. We are not spiritual vigilantes called to expose and shame; we are servants of the cross called to restore, forgive, and build up.
The question, then, is not, “Do I call myself a Christian?” The real question is: “Am I living in a Christlike manner—especially when no one else is?”
The world is watching. Our families are watching. But more importantly, God is watching. And He is calling His children to rise above the noise, to speak with gentleness, to post with wisdom, and to shine with the light of Christ in all they do.
If you have misused your words—whether online or offline—take heart. Grace is not withheld from the repentant. Jesus still stoops beside the guilty, not to cast a stone, but to offer a new beginning. Today can be that day of renewal.
And if you have been wounded by the cruelty of others, know this: the Savior who defended the woman in the temple stands to defend you as well. He knows your pain, and His mercy is your healing.
So let us commit ourselves anew to the calling of Christ—not just in name, but in truth. Let us be slow to speak, quick to listen, rich in mercy, and steadfast in love. And when we are tempted to cast stones, let us instead draw mercy in the sand.
So, I say to you, "May the Lord strengthen your faith and use it for His glory, as you walk humbly in His presence."
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