Who taught you how to judge?

Who taught you how to judge?

Our day is filled to the brim with judgements. Bacon is good, bacon is bad. This money is enough, that money is too much. This look was lust, and that look was appraisal. This thought was flesh, and the other was Spirit. This guy is half-baked, and that guy is toast.

Who taught us how to judge? We'd like to say that most of our judgements come from scripture, from illumination, from reason, from wisdom, from knowledge, from experience.

I recently was reminded how much of my judgement comes from other sources.

I was in the midst of renewing a relationship with a figure from my youth, a spiritual authority, the closest thing I had to a father figure. After what looked like a good start, I was given the brush-off. Intellectually, I understand the reasons for it. But the pain of rejection was real, and came with insight.

For days after the brush-off, I would experience pangs where I was reminded of the closed-door. I would be going about my ordinary day, working, driving, pondering, and then wham, the painful reminder of rejection. I began to see a pattern emerge regarding the timing of the pain.

It was like hurting a toe. While I remained still, everything felt fine. But when I walked on that foot, ouch. That sprained toe happened to be my sense of judgement.

I had inherited many daily judgements from this figure. Unconsciously, I would would judge a person, or thing, or situation in light of something he had said to me years ago. And if that wasn't bad enough, I would judge things in light of his imaginary approval. For days after the rejection, I felt a twinge of pain every time I employed a judgement which I inherited from him.

God is good, I needed this pointed out to me.

All my judgements are questionable. In addition to judgements inherited from the paternal, add the worries from the maternal. Add the fear of bullies. Add the approval of peers. Add the prejudices of culture. Add all the assurances and guilts of fundamentalism.

Given all of this, how many of my daily judgements are the result of illumination of scripture, from reason, from wisdom, from knowledge, from the Spirit? Twenty percent? Ten percent? Five?

Eph 6:4 And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but nurture them in the chastening and admonition of the Lord.

The first glance at the verse tells us not to exasperate them. But there is a second observation. Children inherit their wrath from us. If I hate a political figure, they'll probably hate him too. If I am angry at the neighbor, the kids are angry the neighbor. The immigrant. The fellow driver. The person at the front of the line. The waitress. The customer. The government. The opposite sex. The church on the other corner. "Yeah Daddy, they're all jerks."

Who taught you how to judge?

Remembering and Forgetting

Forgive me, I am probably about to do violence to the text. You with weak constitutions, look away.

Matt 7:21-23 Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!’

What we have here are Christians presenting their resumes. It can be no one else. Prophecy in His name, exorcisms in His name, many wonders in His name. I don't think the "many" would be capable of lying at this point. I think they really did these things, and did them while employing His name.

But it's interesting that "Lord, Lord" can be apart from the will of the Father. It is interesting that works and wonders in the name of Jesus are set in contrast to the will of the Father. It's interesting that the allegation of lawlessness would be made against a record of ministerial achievements. It's interesting that the works and wonders could be so effective and visible if Jesus can claim He never knew the practitioner.

It is interesting, the word "we". It does not appear that they are in single file. As a group, they present their case. Contrast them to another group which was asked for an account.

Matt 25:37-39 Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’

Group number one knew exactly what they were presenting. They put a value on their work from the very beginning, and committed it to memory. Group number two seems ignorant or else downright forgetful.

Consider the separation of one kind of work from another, things forgotten and things remembered. It often happens that someone will thank us for something we said or did, and we have no memory of it. It was just an offhand remark, or a practical act of kindness, just a gesture. But it might have meant everything. Nevertheless, the thing we remember best are our own conspicuously religious words and deeds. These are also the things that we use for our defense and justification.

The Lord is forgetting the conspicuous things which we remember, and gathering up the hidden things which we have forgotten.

Maybe I listened to a brother in the Sunday gathering for 52 weeks in a row for ten years, but can only give a hazy account of his eloquence. But then there was this one time in the car where he made a thoroughly secular remark that will edify the rest of my days. Which will stand in the coming age?

What if the Lord forgets our prophecies, exorcisms, and wonders (Matt:7)? What if He instead remembers the food, drink, bed, clothes, remedies, and visits (Matt:25)?

What if the Lords forgets the sermons and remembers the potlucks? What if He forgets the pageants and remembers the campfire sing-alongs? What if He forgets Sinners in the Hand of an Angry God and remembers Rack, Shack, and Benny?

What if he plucks out the right eye of theological discernment, and cuts off the right hand of ministerial achievement so that the rest can enter in?

I Consider You Pointless

In Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Charlie Bucket says to Mike Teavee, "Candy doesn't have to have a point. That's why it's candy."

I gather with you brothers and sisters because it is pointless. You are all useless. I know how that sounds, but I mean it in the best way.

Folks will more readily make time for you if there is a payoff. Of course, if someone is paying for goods or services, the schedule is wide open, isn't it? But there are non-monetary payoffs, like imagined treasures in heaven or the legacy of reputation on this earth. Some people will meet with you if it furthers their entry into a social circle or business network. Some people can find the time for you if you'll become part of their hierarchy of discipleship or mentoring. Some people might consider you worth their time if you have information they want.

But I guarantee you, if I look forward to getting together with you, it's because it is pointless. If I'm genuinely happy to be with you, it is because I have no use for you.

By you should be thinking about the "one-anothering" verses, and the stuff about edification. Surely that's a "point", right? Folks who know me will understand I'm all for that. What I'm saying is that getting together without an agenda creates a vacuum, which sounds useless, but is actually an opportunity for the Lord.

You see, you exist for the Lord, and the question of your usefulness is a question for Him. The question of our usefulness to each other is also  a matter for Him. If I'm getting together with you, I'm looking for His point. We might have our reasons to be in the same place at the same time, but He has His own. We might pick up on His agenda right away, or much later, or never (and that's okay). We have agendas for our encounters which might succeed or fail according to our measure, but it is His agenda which stands, His motive which matters.

I'd love to have lunch with you, or gather unto the Lord in a group, or whatever. Especially if there is no point. Because if it has a point, because if you or I are useful to one another, it will take that much longer to discern the result the Lord is working on.

You are useless to me, and our fellowship is pointless. That's a high compliment.

Unity in Futility

Among the simple gatherings, a lot has been said and a lot has been written about unity regarding what it is, how it is achieved, and its priority.

I'm going to overturn a table now.

We have two components to our unity, a visible component and an invisible component. And these components are the polar opposite of how we think and how we operate and what we say to one another.

We tend to unify around visible righteousness and invisible unrighteousness. But our real unity is in visible unrighteousness and invisible righteousness.

That is, we tend to gather around good things that are publicly regarded as reasonable and correct, whether doctrines or practices. And we shove all the crap into the closet. When we're outside of the house, we say the same things and do the same things, and hide the same things. We're all together in this, all in lockstep. That's how unity has been working.

But the truth is that we're really and truly united in our weakness and our need. Though we strive to hide it, we're not fooling anybody. This is what unites us with the rest of the human race, that we collectively all fall short. But when we try to cover this fact up by wearing our religious heritage in order to distinguish ourselves from the world, we become an inverse parable. The world knows the truth. We mean for our religion to show forth our God by what we are, but it causes the world to understand God by what we are not. They can point to us and say, "Whatever God is, He is not like that". In truth, we are united in our visible crapulence (which is a good starting point for a parable), not our visible righteousness (which becomes an inverse parable, a cautionary tale). Thus the visible component of our unity is not what we think it is.

The true and invisible component of our unity is the spiritual component. We might attempt to somehow fashion this invisible component into the visible banner of our unity. But in our attempt to promote the true and invisible things as rallying points, we instead produce philosphies and practices that can be set alongside all the other doctrines and laws of this world. Unification contains the seeds of its own destruction. Once we crystallize our invisible unity into visible forms, they become tangible opporunities to show ourselves approved, to divide from one another.

Unity begins in the mind of God. Confronted by God, we're all subjected to futility, so that He can have mercy on all. My futility is my connection to you. Whether you are a believer or not, I don't have to know you very well to know that we have something in common at the very pit of our existence. You and I, we're bumping our heads against the same barriers of ignorance and death. No man has seen God at any time. We are in the same boat, this is visible and evident.

If you're a believer, I'll gather with you in our shared need, in our shared impotence, in our search for the things which are not visible or knowable apart from revelation from the Unknown God who (we believe) becomes known to us through the Son, who speaks in parables through a glass darkly.

The Technical Solution

I had an acquaintance contact me about something related to my vocation. He was building a fence on his lot and needed to know where to put it.

Upon reading his note, my mind went to what I do at work. Coordinates, bearings, distances, legal descriptions. But I then realized it was all overkill. I told him to find a metal detector and a shovel, walk out to where he guessed his corners might be and when the detector made a noise, dig a little circle and pull out the grass plug to see if he saw an iron rod in the ground. Build there.

At the job, most of us are experts at what we do, at least to a degree. When family, friends, or neighbors ask for advice touching upon our expertise, we might look at it as an opportunity to shine.

But the fence builder did not need a full-blown survey. He just needed to know where his corners were. He didn't need me to shine. He didn't need my expertise. He needed a metal detector and a shovel. All I provided was a sense of confidence that he was perfectly capable to work his own land, and that everything would be okay. All I did was give a token of encouragement.

We have young folks in the gathering who are learning guitar. Sometimes when giving advice, the impulse is to overload them with music theory. But I have to remember to point out that what I'm doing in the meeting boils down to something simple. Three chords, most of the time. Kids, learn G, C, and D. Start there. You can do anything with those. Once you get that under your skin, we can talk about three more. With a guitar and three chords, the world is your oyster.

The first impulse is the technical impulse. If the layman asks for his corner, the technician needs to prove his worth by surveying the world. If the layman wants to sing and play Jesus Loves Me on guitar, the technician shows off his expertise by giving him music theory at the piano.

You've guessed I'm talking about the church. A possible objection to my trajectory: we need experts among us to provide technical content to protect us from error which leads to disaster.

To that objection, I must recall what Paul said to a disastrous Corinthian church, thirteen chapters into his corrective letter:

"Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Are all workers of miracles? Do all have gifts of healings? Do all speak with tongues? Do all interpret? But earnestly desire the best gifts. And yet I show you a more excellent way." Then Paul launches into his famous illustration about love.

"And yet I show you a more excellent way." Who speaks like that? Who says that today?

Not just tell you, rather Show You. Not merely correct, but More Excellent. Not a theory, but a Way.

People don't knock on your door with literature in their hand and offer to "show you a more excellent way". They knock on your door to sign you up, to conform you to their theories, and thereby justify themselves. But we've all knocked on each others "doors" this way. We've all received the door-knocking treatment while sitting in a pew or on a sofa. We've given the door-knocking treatment with an open Bible in our laps.

What is Paul's more excellent way? Yeah, you know it. It is love. And he goes on to give a famous (and surprisingly secular) description.

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned,but have not love, it profits me nothing. Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails."

We ought to feel a little uncomfortable with this. Paul has just negated our expertise. He has called into question every technically correct solution. He causes us to question our image of God, which may only faintly smack of love.

When Paul opens with, "And yet I show you a more excellent way," it is an invitation to prove him wrong. It is an invitation to observe him whose authority is inseparable from his example. It is an invitation to imitate him and see whether or not there is an objective pay-off, individually and corporately. We should feel uncomfortable that apart from the action of the More Excellent Way (which measures us), our words are weasel-words, our advice is theory, our assertions are beyond proof.