Uh-Oh, Judging (Controversies #13)

 

"Judge not lest ye be judged!"

I imagine you've heard people say this, perhaps belligerently, when what they mean is "I get to do what I want without anyone saying I shouldn't!" I know I have.

Or how about this one: "Only God can judge me!" Well, one day He will, and are you sure you're going to love the outcome of that?  

Is the Bible's message really "Don't judge"? Is Jesus' teaching really "Don't judge"? 

No. It isn't.

Let's start with the verse most people are referring to when they say, "Don't judge!" Usually they're referring to, or can quote, Matthew 7:1 only. "Do not judge, or you too will be judged" (NIV). But there's an entire teaching that follows, telling us that it's hypocritical judgment we're being warned against. Jesus is not saying to ignore wrongdoing. He's saying to avoid unwarranted or unjust criticism and nuisance faultfinding. He's saying that the more we point the finger, the more we can expect the finger pointed at us, and that God Himself will see to it that "with the measure we use, it will be measured to us." But He's also saying that if we deal with our own sin first--especially the sin we're accusing someone else of--we do have a basis for addressing the wrong in a fellow believer. He ends that particular discussion by saying, "Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet and then turn around and tear you to pieces." This means, I believe, that we have to make a judgment about whom to share truth or confidences with. It's knowing whom to focus on when we share spiritual or personal things, not unlike Jesus' instruction to the disciples to shake the dust off their feet when leaving an inhospitable house or city. So the passage ends with an example of a right judgment.

That phrase "right judgment" calls to mind John 7:24. Jesus said, "Stop judging by mere appearances and make a right judgment." (He was speaking to Jews who were angry with Him for healing on the Sabbath.) So judging according to how something will look is also what we're warned against. But realizing that if it's legal to circumcise a baby on the Sabbath, then it's legal to heal a man's entire body on the Sabbath, is an example of a right judgment, Jesus is saying. There are right judgments, and we are to make them.

Another example is given by Paul in 1 Corinthians 5. This chapter records an incident of a man having sexual relations with his stepmother. Put him out of the fellowship, Paul says (v. 2). I have already passed judgment on him, Paul says (vs. 3). Hand him over to Satan, Paul says (v. 5)--and I'll bet none of us have gone quite that far. I have firsthand knowledge, though, of an incident where a man left his wife and took up with another woman, insisted on continuing this situation regardless of gentle and prayerful confrontation, and his pastor had to ask him to leave the fellowship. A lot of churches would shy away from or flat-out not dream of doing so--I've been a member of those churches, too--but it is the biblical response (1 Corinthians 5:2, 13). And it is judgment. Paul goes on to elaborate that we don't judge those outside the church, but we do judge those inside. What's more, in chapter 6 Paul talks about the church's future as judges of the world and of angels (in the kingdom of God, Revelation 20:6) by way of saying they really should be able to settle (judge) their own comparatively trivial cases in the here and now. 

So yes, we judge. We make judgments every day about whom to steer clear of, what places or activities to say no to (regardless of whether or not someone thinks we're judging them when we decline to participate), about whether a given action is right or wrong, and we need to. If we don't, we're in danger because our wisdom is eroding and our ability to discern sin is losing its edge. And if someone responds to this with "Don't judge me," it may be their own defensiveness, even guilt, speaking. What we want to avoid is unnecessary criticism, malicious finger pointing, lack of humility, a faultfinding spirit, and trying to correct someone when we are guilty of the same problem. At times like these, it's definitely appropriate to say, "Don't judge." 

In the Beginning was the Verb

 Father, You created.

From nothing material but not from nothing.

From Your will, Your word, Your goodness.

Your character.

Bereshit bara Elohim, word for word:

"In the beginning, He created, God."

Formed, fashioned, brought to be

not plain

colorless

serviceable

neutral, 

but art, beauty elemental to You,

inextricable from You,

Your world Your, our, decor. 

 

Made in Your image, we create too.

Yet with tools we asah and with earth yatsar

from material and not from nothing.

Our humble efforts press toward beauty,

our wish to honor a God like ours.

Every stitch, pattern, word, object, 

every way of craft,

sing of, embody, prophesy

Your splendor,

even to those who sniff, "Trivia!"

Open their eyes to the fullness, 

the completeness,

the beauty

of the ways of our God.  

Why are Christians "Worse" Than the World?

The world expects believers in Christ to be--what, exactly? Well, different. More moral than the norm. To obey Jesus' teachings (even if the world is shaky on what Jesus taught and why Jesus came). To be faithful to their spouses. To "not judge" (which is a whole other topic to come). To treat people kindly, decently, graciously, and generously. And all of this is more than fair. 

So why do we often seem not only no better or different, but actually of worse character than people who don't claim Christ? I suggest the reasons fall into two categories: cultural/sociological and theological. 

Most of the time, good character is apt to be a result of being raised in a loving, functional, stable family, regardless of that family's religious practice or lack thereof. And often (not always) these are the people who grow up handling life on their own. They know how to behave, they've been taught the importance of preparing to find meaningful and remunerative work, they've had healthy family life and friendships modeled for them and are likelier to be able to build the same for themselves. They are also likelier to feel they are basically good people (with their share of foibles, they will admit), and that it's up to them to make their own way in life.

Contrast this with those who grew up in more chaotic, unsafe, disadvantaged, or undependable environments, who learned unhealthy patterns of relating, didn't feel loved, didn't have their needs met, or had all they could do to just survive. Often (not always) it's those who grow up more broken than whole who know they need God because they can't make it otherwise. Jesus said He came not to call the righteous (those who think they're good on their own) but sinners (those who know they need Him). Jesus told the Pharisees (self-righteous) that the tax collectors and prostitutes (repentant sinners) would enter the kingdom ahead of them. It starts to make sense, then, that the church might be a little messier than the world is when it comes to propriety. Cleansed by the blood though they may be, the wounds inflicted by their backgrounds will usually heal only gradually as they walk out their saved lives with fear and trembling--and that's only if they allow God to work in those areas. So, from the world's point of view, the church may indeed contain more riffraff, to be blunt. Of course, we who know we are ragged have opportunity for greater character growth in Christ than the temporal world can offer or attain.

What about the theological reasons? Why can the world system produce any good solid people at all, and where do they get any moral standard by which they can evaluate moral standards? Four principles, I think. First, least palatable, but still true, is that we have a spiritual enemy who knows where we're weak and is going to go after Christians harder. Why? Because the unsaved world is already on its way to hell without him having to lift a finger, and because he hates God and will try to discredit Him by discrediting His people. This is not an excuse for "The devil made me do it!" at all, as the choice to "do it" was ours, but when he tempts vulnerable people who haven't fully healed from trauma, sometimes stuff happens. Second, and second least palatable, is that we have wolves among the sheep, meaning some of this sin "in the church" is committed by people who aren't actually the church. Jesus and Paul both warned that false prophets and teachers and "grievous wolves" would infiltrate us, and we'd be foolish to think a time will come when they won't be here. Fortunately, they are at times discovered and rooted out, but this can cause so much damage that through it we gain a better understanding of the parable's admonition to let both the wheat and tares grow until the harvest. 

The two other principles are (a) God made all people in His image, and (b) the human race is sinful. We have both "universal image of God" and "universal sinfulness," to borrow phrasing from author Timothy Keller in his book The Reason for God. Scripture says real Christian behavior will be approved by general culture (Matthew 5:16; 1 Peter 2:12), which can be explained by the fact that God's image resides in every human being. If all bear God's image, then we can reasonably expect unbelievers to be "better people" than their unbelief would suggest, and if all are universally sinful, then believers will likely be "worse people" in practice than their belief would suggest. So, though our respective eternal destinies couldn't be more different, down here on Earth we often look more alike than we'd think. 

Made in God's Image (His Mysteries #6)

 

Photo by Ravenwood on FreeImages

What does it mean to be made in the image of God?

I'm not sure this is something we grasp all at once. Or grasp in its entirety. Because, like everything with God, it's deeper and grander than we think, and may dawn on us in glimpses and aspects over a lifetime. The word "mean" can also be considered in two ways: What defines us as being made in God's image, and what are the consequences to us of being so made? 

From the start, I recognize that a Trinitarian point of view is basic to my understanding. If God is eternal in three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, this means they have been together in a loving, united relationship without a beginning. "Without end" is much easier to imagine than the idea of something having no starting point, no before. If God weren't three persons, I can immediately think of a couple of things that would be tougher to explain. First, our human threefold nature--spirit, soul, and body--wouldn't match God's image as well. Second, the phrase "God is love" would have a less rich meaning. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were in loving communion and agreement for eternity before humans were created. If God were unitarian, we'd have to ask when love got its start. Was it not until humans were made? At any rate, until something was made? Do we think love had a beginning? I say no, because if so there would have been a period--an eternity--when God was not love. But I don't want to get too far into the weeds here. I think perhaps the first way we are made in God's image is that we are triune like He is.

Another way is that we are made for relationship, inwardly and outwardly. Our spirit, soul, and body communicate within us, and we reach out to others. Both God and we are persons, which also means consciousness, identity, reason, and moral agency. Deny it though some will, our sense of right and wrong is built in. No matter how much individuals and cultures may disagree on some of the particulars, for mentally healthy people there are acts too heinous to commit and lengths to which they won't go. Even people who do unconscionable things sometimes think they are doing them for a good reason; thus a sense of right and wrong, even if twisted, is operating. Our personhood, capacity for relationship, and inherent moral code are all ways we are made in God's image.

Being made in the image of God also means we are creators--small c--like He is. Though we think of ourselves as creating from created materials while God created from nothing, there's a further point to consider. Proverbs 18:21 says life and death are in the power of the tongue. James says the tongue is a fire that can cause a destructive blaze. Our prayers, curses, oaths, and vows have power and produce results. Just because we can't say "Let there be a planet!" and poof there's a sphere in the sky doesn't mean our words don't create any number of situations and paths. As beings in God's image, we create, and our speech produces both life and death.

One more, and this idea comes from Francis Schaeffer in his book The God Who is There. Schaeffer contends that the Bible teaches we are "...made in the image of God as a personality who can make a free first choice." The phrase free first choice is important. It would mean we aren't programmed, not by our biology, psychology, nor by God Himself. We are neither machines nor animals. There are those who would claim we are "human animals," but we are not. The image of God in us is an unbridgeable gulf between humans and animals. 

What do we do with the fact that we're created in God's image? First, we regard all other people as fellow image-bearers, and if we can get this truth down in our spirits it should raise our respect for everyone--and ourselves as well. Also, we're to love our brothers and sisters in Christ (yes, our enemies too, but that's beside the point here), not just because it's a good idea but because we're to model the Trinity's love among its three persons. And we can take courage that when even unbelievers see our good deeds and moral excellence, they will (generally) glorify God (Matthew 5:16) because they are made in His image and have that "stamp," "compass," or conscience in and on them. We can also realize that being made in God's image helps make sense of the Incarnation. People sometimes say--and I have thought--that Jesus deigning to become a man must be akin to a human being deciding to become, say, an ant, to die for an anthill. But it isn't the same. Ants are not made in humans' image. Because we are imago dei, there is a tie between God and humans that doesn't exist between any other pair of beings. Because we are imago dei, we are meant to be His family. Because we are imago dei, He purchased salvation for us and only us, whereas we can't, and needn't, for anyone. 

This is surely not exhaustive, but it's what I have. God having made us in His image speaks louder, and quieter, and in many more ways, than we think. It's one of His mysteries. 

It's Literally Greek to Me

 

Nerd alert: 🤓🤓🤓

To supplement my Bible college journey, I have decided to teach myself Biblical Greek. As I write this post, I'm on Chapter 4 in my beginning Greek textbook/video series, which almost certainly means I've learned just enough to be dangerous. 🤣 But I got SO EXCITED today when I realized I could read aloud, and translate, this sentence from my text:

ό Θεὁς αγαπη ἐστἱν

This says "God is love," and is taken from 1 John 4:8. Phonetically, in Koine Greek, it sounds like "haw thee-aws ah-gah-pay es-tin," and left to right it reads, "The God love He is." As a complete aside, this is why I don't take sides in the "word for word" versus "thought for thought" debate in Bible translation. Maybe I'm being rigid in my definition of word for word (or maybe I'm not; I'm not sure), but if the New Testament were literally translated word for word into English, it would be filled with sentences like this--an especially big problem in English because the language relies so much on syntax (word order) to determine meaning (which Greek does not). I would argue that all translations are in essence thought for thought, because the whole point is to convey the true meaning of the original in a form that readers of the target language can accurately decipher. Unless syntax is identical in the two languages, a word-for-word translation will "twist words out of order," sentence after convoluted sentence, meaning readers will become confused and bogged down at best and mistakenly infer inaccurate meanings at worst. 

Anyway. I'm grateful to God for giving me the opportunity to unleash my inner scholar in a way I'm not sure has happened before, even though I once earned a degree with honors way back when. I pray He will receive whatever glory there is to be had from this, in whatever form He desires. Meanwhile, I must cop to the fact that this is my idea of fun. 😍  

Today's Thoughts

 Life may be a test, but it's an open-book test. 

Rebellion is as witchcraft because both are rooted in control. 

Beauty is a bridge to the wonder of significance. 

Threshold

 The fourth month blows in on the four winds

opens the year's door

sweeps the air clean

and gives it a shower.

Yet slate sky

dun grass

taupe trees

pewter river

speak not of winter nor of spring,

suspend the land in a timeless between.

But a threshold is a place of contending

and a gate, even if unlovely,

always beckons you through.

Prayer for April

Father, thank You for the physics and geometry of rain. The dailyness and faithfulness of Your principles of creation. That You speak through everything, everything.

Thank You for water, that the soil might store up moisture and become rich for spring plantings. May the land we walk grow lush and green, not parched and dangerous to life. 

I pray those who need the rain will cheer and welcome it, even rush out and stomp in it, toss umbrellas aside and raise their faces to it. 

I pray those who don't need any more of it will be spared, that You will calm the storm, let the rising waters ebb, sweep the clouds away and make Your sun shine on them. 

I pray those who are saddened by it will not see weeping as much as they see freshening and the final banishment of snow. I pray those who have no shelter from it will receive such shelter from You--knowing that it does come from You even if through human effort, provision, or circumstance--to their joy and great surprise and to Your glory and praise. 

Let April be a month of hope for many, in many different ways. A time when death loses its grip. When new breezes stir. When relationships mend and deep healing happens and the promises of God overtake the lies of the enemy. When paths that have looked figuratively or literally muddy become, if not flawless, clear. 

In April, as we are encouraged by nature's newness, let us not settle for same-same in our lives, as if just trudging along, putting one foot in front of the other, living in ruts because they're familiar instead of asking if You have change in store for us. In this new season, what remains or stays the same for us, and what pivots or drops or opens? Give us insight, and willingness to follow where you lead. Give us eyes to see and ears to hear, and may what we see and hear be Jesus. Amen.

He is Risen!

He rose. 

He did it. 

Jesus bought us back, paid the price for our sin, the veil is torn (top to bottom). God's great plan is victorious and human life is worth something.

He did it sinless. 

He did it early, preempting anyone's arrival at the tomb to mourn Him dead. He caused the grave clothes to be folded and neatly placed; sending a message of deliberateness; of "I don't need these anymore"; refuting, by the lack of either jumbled or absent wrappings, that His body could have been stolen in haste. Jesus spoke, in even this way, to those who had eyes to see, ears to hear.

Jesus is risen. It's the most important day in history. The most important in eternity.

Most don't know that, which is to be expected. The road to life, Jesus said, is found by few. 

Thank you, Jesus, that I--even I--could be one of the few, not because of anything I've done or anything I'm worth, but because of You. Thank you, Father, for drawing me. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for indwelling me. 

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, thank you, Jesus.   

Jesus' Final Week

During Holy Week, we concentrate mostly on Sunday, Thursday, Friday, and Sunday. But what about Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday? Knowing it was His last week, what were the last things Jesus chose to do? Let's look at two events from Monday. 

It was Monday, most scholars believe, that Jesus entered the temple and overturned the moneychangers' tables. John tells us he did so with a whip of cords (John 2:15, although John also places this event earlier in Jesus' ministry--might it have happened twice?). He quoted Scripture, saying, "My house shall be called a house of prayer, but you are making it a robbers' den" (Matthew 21:13; Isaiah 56:7; Jeremiah 7:11). This was not some gentle warning or reasoned explanation. Jesus went in swinging, for several reasons. The animals being sold for sacrifice were priced exorbitantly and sometimes not up to standard, the moneychangers were making excessive profits exchanging Roman money for temple coinage (Jewish leaders required the temple tax to be paid in Jewish money), and apparently general merchants were traipsing through temple grounds hauling their wares as a means of taking a shortcut (Mark 11:16 AMP 2015)! Jesus' message: Corruption in the house of God, and among the people of God, is not tolerated.

It was likely also Monday when Jesus cursed the fig tree. Matthew says Jesus saw a "lone" fig tree, and my first thought was, "Uh-oh. There wasn't another tree to pollinate it?" But my research tells me figs do not commonly need cross-pollination from other trees, and that a lone tree will bear. So expecting the tree to produce fruit was reasonable. Mark 11:13 says Jesus found no fruit on the tree because it wasn't the season for figs, so on the surface His anger seems unfair. Fig season would have been May or June, and this was only March or April. The problem was that the tree leafed out, as expected, but it should also have contained edible fruit buds, as shown in the photo. The fact that it didn't meant it wouldn't produce a crop at the proper time. Jesus cursed the tree, declaring no one would ever eat from it again, to make a point. The next day, when He and His disciples passed the tree again, they saw it had withered from the roots up. Jesus then gave a teaching on the power of prayer, but I think there's another message as well, one that made His choice of a fig tree deliberate. The leafy tree looked good. It was fine for show. But it bore no fruit. There's a parallel danger facing us, that we might walk and talk like Christians but not really belong to Jesus, thus not be indwelled by the Holy Spirit, who is the one who bears fruit in and through us. No fruit = not His. By their fruit, Jesus was saying once more, you shall know them.

The parables Jesus told during the week, the other things He did and that were done to and for Him, are all so full of meaning to be plumbed. The more we read the Bible, the more ways we discover to read it. Studying the accounts of His final week through the lens of "This is what Jesus wanted to get across at the end" is another fresh way to approach the Scriptures.