Showing posts with label judge not. Show all posts
Showing posts with label judge not. Show all posts

Thursday, July 13, 2017

A Good Judge, or Too Quick to Judge?

First Impressions


Not

Final Conclusions



As I was walking over to the office this morning two disparate thoughts sat down side-by-side in my mind.
I was thinking about something somebody said to me yesterday. I think he meant it as a compliment. I took it as such, even thought I'm not completely sure he is right. He told me that I'm good at reading people--making judgments as to whether someone is dependable, has good motives, that sort of thing. 
The thought that began my cogitation had to do with an arm-full of stuff I was carrying, laptop, power cord, a really thick book, a couple of smaller ones, and a check that I wanted to be sure not to lose. Since my days as a freshman at Bremen Township High School, close to fifty-five years ago (back when only soldiers and boy scouts used backpacks), I have had the clear idea that guys carry stuff, like my collection this morning, one way, and girls another. Guys put the biggest flattest--in this case my laptop--thing on the bottom, and arrange the rest on top. Then they grab that big, flat thing by one edge, and carry it vertically at their side. their forearm will clamp the rest down. This leaves the other hand free for back-slapping, scratching, and other manly things.  Girls on the other hand hug their pile of books--assuming they can't get a guy to carry them (You independent women cut me some slack. I'm old-school.)--like a Teddy Bear. As is often the case, the female method has many advantages. Both arms share the load and books are much more secure.
To this day, though, if I see a woman carrying a load "like a man," or a man carrying a stack of stuff "like a woman," my first impulse is, "That's odd." or, "I wonder if Bob has a sore arm?" or, "I don't want to mess with her today." I know that my barely adolescent first impression makes no sense, and my sixty-seven year-old self talks me out of it, but the reaction, like a preference for chocolate over vanilla, persists.
Then I looked at the other thought, my friend's comment from yesterday. You can see where this is going, can't you? In our fast-paced world where first impressions are often the only impressions we have to work with, being able to size somebody up quickly is a great asset. BUT, But, but, we have to be careful and humble. Even if we are good at it--and in spite of my friend's compliment, I'm not all that sure I am--we need to not be overly quick to make that first impression our lasting conclusion.
As I think back, I remember two preachers who made a very bad first impression on me. One I came to respect as one of the greatest preachers I ever heard. He inspired to be better at my craft. The other was my pastor for two years, and had a profound impact on my life.

I'm glad those first impressions weren't my final conclusions.

It's STTA (Something To Think About). 

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Get the beam out!

Something
To
Think
About,

Seeing Clearly:




If you were sitting on a hillside listening--in the same time and place--to Jesus Christ, God the Son, preach a sermon, would you dare laugh?

I think it would be hard to suppress a chuckle when Jesus using masterful hyperbole and ruthless ridicule of some of the religious leaders of His day said:

 
“Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye,
but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?
Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’
and behold, the log is in your own eye?
(Matthew 7:3–4)   

 The scene is ludicrous.  Yet, ridiculous as it is, the cartoon is played out in real life every day.  
"Guilty as charged."  says the STTA guy.

Let's think about this lumber in the eye for a moment.  In the context of Jesus Sermon on the Mount, He identifies the species of fence post this way:  
In Matthew 7:1 He introduces His point with these often misquoted, and more often misunderstood words.  "Judge not."  Those who cherry pick these words to use as a shield against any criticism neglect to note that Jesus goes on, in the same breath to condemn this 2x4 in the optical syndrome.  If one is to apply what Jesus says in the rest of the chapter he must exercise judgment.  Jesus does not say to ignore the speck in a brother's eye.  Clearly one reason we ought to rid ourselves of excess lumber is so our sight will be clear enough to actually help our brother who really does need to be rid of the splinter in his own eye.  (v.5)  If we are not to put holy things in the dog's dish or throw our pearls into the hog pen we must first recognize the sacred, properly identify the precious, and make a roster of dogs and hogs.  (v. 6) Those are highly judgmental activities.  I'll let you peruse the rest of the chapter.  You'll find a number of commands and exhortations that require the exercise of judgment.  Even the"Golden Rule," v. 12, requires one to decide, based on how one concludes he would want to be treated--surely in the context of the words of Christ this cannot be "if it feels good do it"--and then treat the other person that way.  What if they have a warped view of what is good and want to be treated differently?  The application of this very charitable principle can be highly judgmental.
While Jesus is not giving a blanket condemnation of all judgment, He does come down hard on hypocritical judgment.  When I judge another based on a standard that I will not accept for myself I am on the wrong side of Christ's standard.  Like the Pharisees we have gotten good at this.  You can get some idea of how the Pharisees did this, by reading Matthew 23.  The Apostle Paul condemns a version of this in 2 Corinthians 10:12.  We get very good at hiding our worst faults, and shining a light on what we perceive as the faults of others.  We do the reverse about virtues.  We find ways to explain away our sin--it's different, there are extenuating circumstances, etc. etc.--while we allow no cover for others.

The result is we end up attempting the delicate procedure of removing splinters from eyes, with our vision grotesquely blocked with enough wood to build a porch.

 
It's STTA.