Epiphany 7

Do you ever read the warning labels on things you buy? Some of them are fascinating. Some of them make you stop and wonder just why they have been put there.

For example, a sticker on a wheelbarrow reads, “Not intended for highway use.” Keep that wheelbarrow off the interstate!

The label on a baby stroller says, “Remove child before folding.” I’m sure the kiddo would appreciate that. The warning label on an electric drill reads, “This product not intended for use as a dental drill.” Don’t try drilling those cavities out in your garage.

A warning on a jet ski says, “Never use a lit match to check fuel level.” Would a lighter work better? Then there’s that warning label on a bottle of dog medication that reads, “May cause drowsiness. Use care when operating a vehicle.”  Don’t let Rover drive when he’s taking that stuff.

Today’s Gospel comes with a warning label of its own. Jesus says, “Do not judge, and you will not be judged.”

But it’s so easy to pass judgement. We look for flaws in others and ignore our own.

Each of us is made up of certain unique experiences, ideas, prejudices, and expectations; these things make up a “filter” through which we see the world. Like a pair of faulty glasses, this “filter” allows us only limited vision. We think we can see ourselves clearly, but the further we get from ourselves, the fuzzier our vision is. There’s a great chart that lists how we see ourselves as opposed to how we see others around us. It’s called “I’m, You’re, They’re”:

I’m chatty. You’re unusually talkative. They’re a motor mouth.

I’m neat. You’re fussy. They’re far too exacting.

I’m neighborly. You’re a little nosy. They’re a gossip.

I’m a good shopper. You’re thrifty. They’re a tightwad.

I’m sparkling. You’re flamboyant. They’re an insecure show off.

Like an acutely farsighted person, we are often blind to our own faults, but quick to notice the faults of others.

Today’s Gospel tells us not to judge. None of us has any bragging room as far as righteousness is concerned. We would like to believe that there is a hierarchy of sin. In our minds, there ought to be a grading scale for sins.

People magazine once did a survey called “The Sindex: A Reader’s Guide to Misbehavior.” Readers were asked to rate how guilty they would feel on a scale of one to ten, if they engaged in any of fifty-one activities.

We often assume that God has a “Sindex.” Gossip, anger, lack of charity, and gluttony should be benign sins in our estimation, and should be covered by a quick prayer and attending church for a month. Drug dealing and murder are major sins, and God should be just as repulsed by these sins as we are. That’s what we’d like to think. But it’s a lie. A sin is anything that separates us from God. Anything. Romans 3:23 says, “There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

And because we are all sinners, we make imperfect judges of one another. Have you ever seen one child tattling on another child? The tattler rarely gets rewarded for his or her efforts. Few parents want to encourage that behavior in their children. And just because one child knows about another child’s bad deed, the children aren’t allowed to punish one another. Any disciplinary measures are reserved for the parents to enforce. Why? Because children rarely have the wisdom, maturity, compassion, and foresight to correctly judge one another’s actions.

Joe Pyne hosted a rather remarkable TV talk show back in the 1960s that was syndicated from California. This program was ahead of its time. What made it distinctive was Pyne’s caustic and confrontational style with his guests. Some people claimed that Pyne’s acidic personal style was partially caused by a leg amputation that had embittered him in life; others said no, that he was just vituperous by nature.

One evening rock musician Frank Zappa was a guest on the show. This was at a time in the sixties when very long hair on men was still unusual and controversial. As soon as Zappa had been introduced and seated, the following exchange occurred:

Pyne: I guess your long hair makes you a girl.

To which Zappa replied: I guess your wooden leg makes you a table.

It’s so easy to criticize, so easy to judge. But we don’t know the other person’s circumstances or expectations. We don’t know the burdens that they carry. But God knows. He knows the road that each one of us has traveled on. God also has two vitally important attributes that we don’t have: perfect holiness and perfect love.

All of God’s judgements are filtered through His holiness and His love for us. Our judgements are stained by feelings of revenge, self-righteousness, anger, contempt, and jealousy. God doesn’t have that problem. No matter what we have done in life, God continues to love us. No sin can shock Him. Romans 5:8 says, “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

A woman who was dying as a result of an addiction summoned a minister. Her emotional pain was as real as her physical pain. Everything seemed hopeless. “I’m lost,” she said, “I’ve ruined my life and every life around me. I’m headed for hell. There’s no hope for me.”

The minister saw a framed picture of a pretty girl on the dresser. “Who is that?” he asked. The woman brightened, “Ah, that’s my daughter, the one beautiful thing in my life.”

“Would you help her if she was in trouble,” asked the minister, “no matter how many mistakes she’d made? Would you forgive her if she asked you to? Would you still love her, no matter what?”

“Of course I would,” the woman replied. “Why would you even ask a question like that?”

“Because I want you to understand,” explained the minister, “That God has a picture of you on His dresser.”

Now that’s good news indeed.  God is all about mercy – not condemnation.

A man was convicted of a certain crime.

The man’s mother, a poor widow, wrote a letter to the judge, asking him to overturn the judgement and forget the fine. She explained that her son was broke and unemployed; it would fall on her shoulders to pay his fine. The financial burden was more than she could bear.

With tears in his eyes, the judge signed the docket which sealed the poor man’s fate and adjourned the court. To remit the fine would violate his oath to uphold the law, and justice would suffer for the sake of mercy. But when the judge wrote back to the widow, he enclosed with his letter a personal check to cover both the fine and court costs. Concluding his letter, he said, “I send this check with joy because it gives me the opportunity to be both just and merciful.”

God is both just and merciful. All of God’s judgements are filtered through His perfect holiness and His perfect love. Why are we commanded not to judge one another? Because we’re no good at playing God. Because the only reason to judge anything is to separate things, to divide things. But God has called us to unite things, to bring people together.

So, let God handle the judgment. May we be just. And merciful.