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. [Matthew 7:1-2 (ESV]
In a classic Peanuts comic (drawn by Charles Schulz), the meek Linus asked his bossy big sister Lucy, “Why are you always so anxious to criticize me?” She answered, “I just think I have a knack for seeing other peoples’ faults.” When Linus queried, “What about your own faults?” Lucy replied, “I have a knack for overlooking them.” Along with her over-sized ego, Lucy has what psychologists call “fundamental attribution error.”
Fundamental attribution error is the tendency people have of attributing other people’s actions to their character flaws while ignoring any impact the situation might have on their behavior. Rather than considering how circumstances can affect a person’s actions, we tend to think people do bad, rude, thoughtless, or foolish things simply because they’re bad, rude, thoughtless, or foolish people. On the other hand, although we attribute other people’s faulty behavior to shortcomings in their character, we typically attribute our failings to the challenges of our situation.
It’s not just Lucy who makes this error! When someone cuts us off, forgets something, or has a fit of pique, they’re a jerk, inconsiderate, or unpleasant but, when we do the same things, we excuse or defend our behavior because we were rushed, over-committed, or under stress! Flawed beings that we are, even the best of us manage to screw up now and then—let’s show some grace when others do! “Stop having a measuring rod for other people,” said Oswald Chambers before adding, “There is always one fact more in every man’s case about which we know nothing.”
When Jesus referred to measuring people, He was borrowing from a Jewish proverb usually applied to the markets: “It is measured to one according to the measure by which one measures.” In Jesus’ day, a Roman inspector of measurement and weights (an agoranomos) would be stationed in the marketplace. His measuring table and scale weights were used to calibrate vessels and balances to a standard measure. Rather than an agoranomos keeping watch on the fairness of our weights and measures, we have God. If we measure ourselves in yards, we can’t measure others in fractions of an inch and, if we round up when appraising ourselves, we can’t round down when appraising others! If we use a short measure or light weight when judging others, God will use that same short measure or balance when judging us! The standard we use for others is the standard God will use for us and I suspect the way we extend grace to others may affect the amount of grace He extends to us, as well.
There is a Chinese proverb that says, “Deal with the faults of others as gently as your own.” Rather than dealing with our faults, however, like Linus’ big sister Lucy, we have an uncanny knack for overlooking them completely. Jesus, however, tells us to deal with our own faults before we begin to deal with anyone else’s. Let us remember that the first principle of judgment is to start with the logs in our eyes before concerning ourselves with anyone else’s specks!
It is the peculiar quality of a fool to perceive the faults of others and to forget his own. You can‘t clear your own fields while you’re counting the rocks on your neighbor’s farm. [Cicero]
Since we both attended liturgical churches as girls, my friend and I were trying to recall the terms for the various parts of a traditional church building. We knew the foyer is called the narthex and the congregation sits the church’s nave. We also knew the altar rail usually separated the nave from the chancel in the front. It’s from the chancel that the service is conducted and where the altar, pulpit, and lectern are located. We even recalled that the sacristy was the room holding Communion supplies and linens. Since we were worshipping in a park that morning, my friend asked the location of our sanctuary. In historic usage, sanctuary and chancel were synonymous but, in modern usage, a sanctuary consists of the entire worship space of a church. With no building, we had no narthex, nave, or chancel but we did have a worship space; our sanctuary was a gazebo in a county park.
While baking banana bread, I decided to add in the last of the walnuts I found in the refrigerator. After pouring the dough into the prepared pans, I spotted a few walnut pieces that hadn’t made the mixing bowl and popped them in my mouth. One taste told me they were rancid! Not only are rancid nuts horrid tasting but, if enough are consumed, they can make you sick! Just as there’s no way to get a little bit of yeast out of a lump of dough, there was no way to get every last bit of nut nastiness out of the bread. A mere cup of nuts managed to turn more than eight cups of what should have been sweet and delicious into something bitter and sour. As I emptied the pans into the garbage, I recalled a sermon illustration about a thirteen-year-old girl.
For a single-cell microorganism member of the fungus family, yeast is mighty powerful. When added to water and flour, it starts to grow and multiply as it ferments the sugars in the flour, releases carbon dioxide, and causes the dough to rise. Moreover, once added to something, yeast can’t be removed. When a small amount of old fermented dough called a starter or seor is kneaded into flour and water, it permeates the dough and makes it rise. Some of the newly leavened dough can be saved to become the starter for the next batch of bread and so on.
Last week, after singing we’d come in the opening hymn, we promised to go in the closing one: I the Lord of Sea and Sky. Originally written for a Roman Catholic ordination mass in 1981, it has found its way into many Protestant hymnals. As I sang the refrain, “Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?” I thought of Samuel and Isaiah, both of whom were called by God and both of whom responded by saying, “Here I am.” I wonder if I would have responded as positively as did they. Like Moses, would I have protested or, like Jeremiah, say my age disqualified me? Would I simply have run away as did Jonah? Although Moses, Jeremiah, and even Jonah eventually answered God’s call, I’m not so sure I would have (although three days in the belly of a fish might have convinced me)!
Devotions of the Heart 