Monday, April 21, 2014

To Judge or Not to Judge, that is the Question

Ever had this happen to you?  You see a brother who appears to be engaged in some sort of sinful activity.  You approach them with concern, only to be told, “Judge not, lest ye be judged!”

Never mind the fact that this person would never use the words “lest” or “ye” in any other context, and that they only partially quoted a Scripture and couldn’t narrow down it’s location to anything more than “somewhere in the Bible”, it shut you up, didn’t it?  Because you know, whether the person quoting knew it or not, that Jesus really did say that.

Look at the actual passage.  I’m sure you know where it is, but just in case, it’s at Matthew 7:1-2, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

That seems pretty straightforward, doesn’t it?  Unless … we read these verses from Paul: 1 Corinthians 6:1-3, “When one of you has a grievance against another, does he dare go to law before the unrighteous instead of the saints?  Or do you not know that the saints will judge the world? And if the world is to be judged by you, are you incompetent to try trivial cases?  Do you not know that we are to judge angels? How much more, then, matters pertaining to this life!”

Wait a minute, did Paul just contradict Jesus?  Are we supposed to judge or not?  Or, maybe it’s OK to judge angels but not people?

Before we answer that question, let’s look back at what Jesus said next back there in Matthew 7:3-5, “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?  How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?  You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

Now, if I see a speck of sawdust in my brother’s eye, I’m just supposed to ignore it, right?  No, that’s not what it says, is it?  What I’m supposed to do is take the plank out of my own eye, and then I’m supposed to remove the speck in my brother’s eye.  (i.e., my problem is bigger than his!)

Go back to my first paragraph.  This brother (or sister) I have seen engaged in sin, how did I approach them?  With a purity of heart or self-righteousness?  Years ago, Joe Martin drew a cartoon depicting the “lowest level of authority”.  A guy in a jail cell is looking out a window and shouting at someone (we can’t see), “Hey, you!  Get away from there!”  Is my approach to my brother the same?  Is he going to look at me and see the log in my eye (or the jail of my sins surrounding me) and think, “Who’s this guy to tell me anything?”

Or, will he—or she—see someone who, as Paul admonishes elsewhere, speaks the truth in love?

See, what our world wants to object to—and we Christians have let them set the standard here—is to eliminate both judging and judgment.  What’s the difference?  It’s a poor illustration, but maybe I know from previous conversations that you are a recovering alcoholic and I see you going into the liquor store.  Judgment, informed by a heart that is given over to God, sees that and reaches out in love to give you a hand.  To give you a friendly and helpful reminder to stay on the wagon.

Judging, on the other hand (and this is what’s condemned), sees you entering that liquor store and pronounces, “Well, that guy’s lost!  He’s off the wagon and drinking again.  No point in wasting any more time on him!”  The self-righteous log in my own eye has made this pronouncement because I am seeing myself as God’s judge, jury and executioner.

Judgment, which is encouraged, combined with love, means I approach you.  Maybe I find out you’re not off the wagon, you’re just needing a lot of boxes to help a friend move and everyone knows the best place for boxes is a liquor store.  Or, maybe you were just about to jump off the wagon.  If I have approached in love, as a brother, you might be a little embarrassed or even chagrined, but you’re eventually thankful.

And see, within this, is another element that is often left out of this equation: brother.  (Or sister.)  Both Jesus and Paul are talking about our relationships with people who are in the kingdom of God with us.  You know, elsewhere, Paul says the first piece of godly armor we are to put on is the “belt of truth”.  I am convinced this is not just the belt of “telling the truth” but of also “hearing the truth”.  I don’t like having my faults and sins pointed out to me, but then again, I know it needs to be done.  Sometimes, I don’t take the correction too well at first, but if I’m letting the Holy Spirit work on me, I come to see its value.


The world (or Satan, who’s leading this charge) doesn’t want us to think this way.  If I see a brother or sister in Christ doing something questionable, I’m just supposed to shut up and not say anything because “who am I to judge?”  Where does that attitude get us, though?  “Little” sins that grow into big problems because they were never addressed.  I’m not saying we take after the Enemy and prowl around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour, but in our dealings with our brothers and sisters in Christ, let’s hold each other up to a loving, Godly standard.  Use the judgment he has given us.  And when the logs are out of our own eyes, he says we’ll be able to see the speck in our brother’s eye better.

3 comments:

  1. Good article, Steve. Not sure how it's a reply to what I wrote :-), but glad to read it! (& I agree)

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  2. Good observations on Judgement Sam. I've wrestled with that a bit myself. I've always felt like I should keep the focus on Him and not them. And I should let Him sort it out. But now I see that turning my back may also be a form of judgement. Instead of rushing to judge, offering to help - after making sure I'm not in a worse mess - might be the better path. I've always been leery of coming off as self-righteous in my approach to others. So I've tended to just keep my mouth shut. Because of that, I've probably missed a few opportunities to offer a hand when it was needed and may have been appreciated.

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  3. I struggle with that all the time, Robert. Sometimes, I think I've done what I was supposed to do, but too often I have either done nothing (and hoped it worked itself out) or rushed in and done the wrong thing.

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