Judgy, Judgy
People hate being judged. Those decades younger than I use the words “judgy, judgy” to reprimand anyone about to do it. And should judging occur in Christian circles, Jesus' words from the Sermon on the Mount will be quickly retrieved for retaliation—"Judge not, lest you be judged!"
We must understand, though, the kind of judging that is forbidden. What is forbidden is the judging that minimizes virtue and maximizes fault, the judging that gazes with gladness on the faults of others, the judging that treats rumor as fact and suspicion as truth, the judging that never seeks to reclaim but only seeks to punish, the judging that ascends to the throne of God and hurls invectives at all those strugglers coming up short. There’s a wrong kind of judging, obviously, which itself should be judged.
Deeper down we know that if there is right and wrong, judging has to factor in somewhere. The Bible speaks of two judgments—the Great White Throne Judgment that Christians will miss since all their sins were already judged at the cross, and forgiven there—but also the Bema Judgment that all Christians will attend; and it is there they will be judged according to all their works (I Corinthians 3:13; I Peter 1:17).
In this respect, Jesus’ judging isn’t at all like the judging that goes on at the county fair. At the county fair, Aunt Minnie will enter her largest pumpkin in the vegetable competition; and Uncle Harold will enter his roundest, pinkest pig in the livestock competition. Yet, Aunt Minnie grew more than one pumpkin; and Uncle Harold raised more than one pig.
In their respective attempts to win the coveted blue ribbon, Minnie and Harold will select and submit only the best of what their labor produced. But it won’t be this way at the Bema Judgment. Selections and submissions aren’t going to be the name of game. All our works will be judged.
If the judging of our works were like the judging at the county fair, only rare exhibits of excellence would be put forth: at best, small slice-of-time actions, as if these represented our entire life. But this arrangement would lend itself to considerable distortion, and perhaps to a false elevation of self-esteem.
For example, a golfer may take pride in being able to hit the ball out of the sand trap and into the cup, even if he achieves this only twice out of a hundred attempts. Likewise, a tennis player may boast of a wicked crosscourt backhand shot that will send a puff of chalk skyward for the winning point—game, set, match!
Well, in his dreams, maybe; or perhaps he got a shot off a like that in practice once. But shots like these—from the golfer or the tennis player—are hardly a part of their regular repertoire. Besides, confusing rare excellence with normal performance results in a tennis racket slammed onto the court, or a golf club wrapped around a tree.
To avoid distorted thinking like this, the Judge of all the earth will judge every work you and I ever did. Horatius Bonar addressed this point when he reminded us that “a holy life is made up of a multitude of small things. It is the little things of the hour, and not the great things of the age that fill up a life … Little words, not eloquent speeches or sermons; little deeds, not miracles, nor battles, not one great heroic act or mighty martyrdom, make up the true Christian life …."1
Affirming this perspective, G.D. Watson wrote, “There is no better way in the world to test every trait in a soul than by little things. Every Christian duty, every grace of the Spirit, every privilege in life is being proved and manifested to the eyes of God and angels in things so small we seldom take thought of them.”2
By examining all, there can be no complaints about the Lord judging one part of the record and not that part we preferred his eyes to see. Moreover, by judging everything, God reinforces the principle that all aspects of life are important: every part and particle, every word and deed, every intent and outcome, every aspiration and accomplishment—the motive, the method, the glory—all will undergo full inspection!
Nothing will be accorded one ounce of weight, or one penny in value, that is in any way less than what his all-knowing mind will accurately assess. On this point, Scripture raises a rhetorical question that needs no answer: Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?
In his book, The World’s Last Night, C.S. Lewis describes the perfect Judge rendering his verdict:
... it will be infallible judgment. If it is favorable, we shall have no fear; if unfavorable, no hope that it is wrong. We shall not only believe, we shall know, know beyond doubt in every fiber of our appalled or delighted being, that as the Judge has said, so we are: neither more, nor less, nor other. We shall perhaps even realize that in some dim fashion we could have known it all along.3
That this Judge will be sympathetic, yet impartial, is a point A.W. Tozer addressed in his book, And He Dwelt Among Us.
… there will be no dodging, no whimpering, no whining, no crying on our wrists and saying, “But Lord, you didn’t understand.” He does understand, because he became one of us and walked among us. Never was a tear he did not share; never a bitter disappointment he did not feel; never a grief he did not suffer; never a temptation that did not come to him; never a critical situation that he was not in.4
Consequently, there will be no need for more affidavits, more testimony, and more proof, since the Judge we will one day stand before knows all and understands all.
So, if what will be revealed on that last day is largely knowable now, wouldn’t it make sense to retrieve this truth from the deeper recesses of our soul where we often—with no spirit of reverence and no motivation for obedience—hide it? To continue such a charade means that one day we will be exposed as an ostrich without sand.
Suggesting a better processing than the one commonly employed, C.S. Lewis advised: “We can, perhaps, train ourselves to ask more and more often how the thing we are saying or doing (or failing to do) at each moment will look when the irresistible light streams in upon it ….”5
Oh, I know, no one ever built a statue honoring a critic, but daily judging like this will serve all of us well.
Notes
1. Horatius Bonar, God’s Way of Holiness, (Chicago, Moody Press, 1970), p.110.
2. G.D. Watson, Soul Food, ((Hampton, TN., Harvey Christian Publishers, 2000), p.34.
3. C.S. Lewis, The World’s Last Night, (New York, Hardcourt, Brace, Janovich, 1959), p.113.
4. A.W. Tozer, And He Dwelt Among Us, (Ventura, CA., Regal, 2009), pp.164, 165.
5. C.S. Lewis, The World’s Last Night, p.113.
