Guilt Show
The Danger of Jumping to Conclusions
SOME YEARS AGO, I pulled my rental car into the parking lot of a Catholic parish where I was scheduled to present a weekend seminar. Across the street, up on a hill, stood a large non denominational Protestant church. Modern. Impressive. Impossible to miss.
What grabbed my attention was the huge banner stretched across the front of the building. In bold capital letters it read:
GUILT SHOW
I stared at it.
“Guilt show? What on earth is a guilt show?” I muttered.
Within moments, irritated, I became convinced I knew exactly what it meant. Those Protestants up there on the hill must be mocking Catholics. I mean, what else could it be? The banner faced straight toward the Catholic church so its parishioners would see it clearly every time they arrived for Mass.
My mind began shaping a negative narrative: “They must think we Catholics fixate on guilt and confession. They believe salvation cannot be lost, so they don’t accept the need for sacramental confession.”
With no evidence, I assumed that that must be what the banner meant.
I walked into the parish office and asked the secretary what she thought of the banner. She said she hadn’t noticed it. That surprised me, considering how enormous it was. Perhaps it had been hung that very afternoon, just before I arrived. When I explained how I had interpreted the message, her expression shifted from puzzled to uneasy. It had never crossed her mind that the church on the hill might be sneering at her parish.
Feeling righteous and ready to defend Catholics everywhere, I decided to call that Protestant church myself.
“Hi,” I told the receptionist, “I’m visiting from out of town. I’m curious about the big banner in front of your building. What does ‘Guilt Show’ mean? Is it some kind of message directed at the Catholic parish down the hill?”
A pause.
“Guilt show?” she repeated quizzically. “Guilt show?” Then she laughed kindly.
“Oh, you mean the Quilt Show banner. Yes, we’re hosting a quilt exhibition here next weekend. We do it every year. It’s really popular and everyone is welcome.”
A quilt show.
Not a theological attack. I felt so foolish. I exhaled a chuckle of relief as the nice lady speculated that the banner must have gotten a bit wrinkled by the wind, just enough to hide the bottom curve of the Q, making it look like a G.
She thanked me politely and said she would have the janitor smooth the banner so no one else would misunderstand it. Like I had.
I hung up the phone feeling really embarrassed. I had leaped to an uncharitable conclusion, assuming motives I could not possibly have known, mentally putting strangers on trial and declared them guilty.
“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get.
Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?
You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.” — Matthew 7.1–5
The lesson learned by that banner has stayed with me ever since.
Whenever I feel tempted to assume the worst of someone, to interpret actions through suspicion, or to judge motives I cannot see and don’t really know, it helps to remember that moment. The banner wasn’t about guilt. It wasn’t about Catholics. It wasn’t even about theology.
But it did reveal something about me.
Maybe the Lord allowed me to see what I thought was GUILT SHOW because He wanted to show me that I had something in my eye.
Copyright © 2025 Patrick Madrid. All rights reserved. All text, images, and other original content are the property of the author.
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Jesus came to save us from our Quilt.
That’s why He sent the Comforter.
Sounds like something I would do.