Thesis 44 We must practice a judgment of charity toward others.
“Judge not,” Jesus preached in His Sermon on the Mount, “lest you be judged” (Matthew 7:1). There are, typically, two reactions to this potent warning. Those outside the kingdom of God, despite refusing to bow the knee to Jesus, here cheer Him on. This is, without question, the favorite text in all the Bible amongst those who don’t heed the Bible. These folks find here a blanket condemnation of all judging in all circumstances.
Those inside the church, however, have a slightly more sophisticated understanding of the text. They, perhaps after having this verse used as a club by unbelievers against them, have enough smarts to know we’re being judged, and that rather harshly, by those fussing at us for judging them. We point out the hypocrisy of our unbelieving friends, and move on.
In both cases, I’m afraid, we miss the point. Jesus, contra those outside the church, is not telling us that we ought never to make any judgments. Jesus, contra those inside the church, is in fact saying something about judging. Refuting the unbeliever’s take on the passage may tell us what the text doesn’t mean, but it doesn’t tell us what it does mean. What is means, simply put, is that we can expect to be judged with the same level of care with which we make judgments. If, for instance, we rush to judgment, we can expect others to rush to judgment against us. If we mistake our subjective guesses of the motives of others as gospel truth, we can rest assured that others will confuse their guesses on our motives as gospel truth. Jesus is here calling us to judge, with both care, and with grace.
We judge with grace by not assuming the worst about others. We take our well developed skills at self-rationalization, and use them for good, for explaining in a gracious way the behavior of our neighbor. That is, when we snap at a friend, it’s because we’ve had a bad day. When friends snap at us, it is because they are horribly impious people who are lucky to have us for friends. What we ought to think instead is that we snap at our friends because we are the chief of sinners. Our friends snap at us because our sins would test the patient of a saint, because we are so aggravating.
The practice, of course, puts us in grave danger of being abused. Which is a good thing. When we remember that we are already unchangeably the children of God, when we remember that we are called to die to self, we are in a position to take chances like this. Our snapping neighbor may in fact be a big, fat, jerk, and we are making, in our hearts, excuses for his boorish behavior. The end result is still coals heaped upon our neighbors head (see Romans 12:20). This practice allows us, encourages us to rest in God’s strong right arm, to enter into battle confident that He has numbered our days, and is our strong tower. Not only that, it encourages others to practice a judgment of charity toward us, something we are sure to need before long.