No one is like Jesus; no one spoke like Him. Every time I read the Sermon on the Mount, I smile at the vast understatement at the end: “And when Jesus finished these sayings, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he was teaching them as one who had authority …” (Matthew 7:28-29 ESV).
There are the words He said, and then there is the spiritual power that we understand as we read the Gospels. He actually stood up and told the wind and the waves to be still. Already, that defies all regular human activity, although I’ve wanted to do that myself many times. But then the silence from the clouds and rain came at His command. There was no delay in their obedience.
Another example of the unique way the Lord spoke is that He said some harsh things to His disciples. I don’t know what I’d do if someone told me to “get behind me, Satan,” or “why are you so slow to understand,” or “you are acting like an unbeliever,”… Now what most surprises me in respect to my own experiences and downfalls is that He said those things in such a different way than anyone else could have even spoken. We read it in the disciples’ responses. Instead of despising Him, they love Him even more! Why? I’m convinced it’s because He didn’t condemn them while He was speaking. He said difficult things in perfect love.
Now we, who the Spirit has regenerated, have a new belonging in His Kingdom. We’re citizens, adopted children, yes, but citizens of heaven. As we wait for our place with Him, we live as if with our feet on the ground. If only we spoke like Jesus, too. And yet, we’re not of the type to condemn others. I’ll even go as far as to say it will be irrelevant for us to do so.
Let’s begin by examining our point: the citizen of heaven wasn’t made to live in judgment of other people. Instead, we were made to live in communion with others, like a family, not like a litigious society. We see this in the new believer classes we teach: “We’ve been adopted into the family of God,” we tell new believers. No one for a moment imagines that family to be secret lawyers!
Jesus brings this out through the principle of reciprocity. We reap what we sow, and I especially like the way He shows us this through a wisdom speech. In Matthew 7, verses 1 and 2, Jesus says: “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you” (ESV). How you look at others, they’ll look at you. Though you secretly judge in your heart, it always seems to find its way back in the mirror.
So we ask: are we to judge or discern? Should we practice prudence or sanctified naivety? What is the difference? Many have asked me these questions over the years, and to be honest, I’ve asked myself the same questions.
Part of the confusion might be the language we’re reading in. In English, “to judge” has many nuances that span from condemning to discerning, and the elasticity of our language can mean anything in between. For example, in my judgment, the new deacon of our church has a judgmental look about him, judging from the decisions he makes in his Sunday school class … We can use the word in many ways to the confusion of all who listen to us.
Knowing that Jesus wasn’t speaking English is helpful; it’s also notable that when Matthew sat down to write his Gospel, he chose a language to express the original words he’d heard with his own ears. The word that Jesus uses in the text, “κρίνω” (krino), is often used in a judicial sense. Almost every commentator I read emphasizes this. Not that our English translation is faulty, but it helps us to understand how to read it. Jesus is talking about condemning someone. Although they aren’t synonyms, the meaning is close enough to substitute the words to bring the meaning close to home. It would go something like this: “Do not condemn, that you will not be condemned. The measure with which you condemn others, it will be measured back to you.” Suddenly, the text becomes a little more poignant.
To bring the thought closer to our context, there is, therefore, a sense of being reproached by those who feel excluded by the Church. This isn’t talking about Church discipline, where the leadership takes action to help someone become aware of and turn away from a destructive path. I’m referring to the feeling I once had as a young believer when I visited a church and was gently asked to find another congregation where I would see people who looked more like me. Or the stares I got from congregants in another church when I was broken and searching. It’s that piercing, uncomfortable look that builds impenetrable walls. Who wants to go to the church of the “holy judges” anyway?
Then there’s a comedy of errors and misconceptions that lead to judgment—one person may come in lacking coffee, feeling a little tired, which gives a wrong impression to someone else, who takes it badly. The downward cycle continues with another unsuspecting parishioner, and before long, no one feels welcome. A cold judgment prevails instead. This would be the best-case scenario. The worst would be a true feeling of condemnation or exclusion because of one’s ethnicity, dress, mannerisms, gender, age, or sexual orientation (supposed or real). The condemned one leaves angry from exclusion and condemns the entire church, exemplifying reciprocity. They feel judged, and then may even write a condemnatory review on Google Reviews.
How can we get past the judgment? There is a place where all our sins were judged and our acquittal bought at the highest place. It’s the cross that stands as our place of dying. It’s where our condemning of others fades into the ridiculous smallness it is compared to what the Lord paid for our forgiveness. It’s the cross that allows us to die to the thing that makes us feel good and in the right, looking down on others. The cross is an open door to a better way because it’s a way paved by the love of the Father who saved us through Jesus. I believe this is the love the disciples felt when they received some difficult words from the Lord. Far from condemning them, in all things, He cared for them and for us too, as He would ask us to lay down our judgmental attitudes.
Next time, I’d like to take the text from another angle!
This article was taken from a project with Dr. Zack Eswine and Western Seminary. It was then preached as a complete message at Calvary Chapel, Paris, France.
