Judging Is Contrary To Loving

 

Stop Judging So That You May Love

A Reflection by Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB

Scripture Reading:
Romans 14:7-12

Leaving church one Sunday, a woman said to her husband, "Do you think that Flanagan girl is dyeing her hair?" "I didn't notice her," replied the husband. "And that skirt Mrs. Jones was wearing. . ." continued the wife. "that’s very inappropriate attire for a mother of four, don't you think so??" "I'm afraid I didn't notice that either," said the husband. “Well then, surely you noticed how Sean McConnaghy was giving so much attention to that young lady who was seated near him. He’s a married man.” “Well, dear,” replied the husband once again, “I didn’t notice them either.” "Huh!" scoffed the wife. "A lot of good it does bringing YOU to church."

Today we heard St. Paul say, “Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister?” This echoes Jesus words in the Gospel, “Stop judging, that you may not be judged.” Yet, not only do we not refrain from judging, but we . . . I know I do . . . even sit in church, or in the monastic refectory, looking around at some other person or persons and making judgments about them.

When we judge another person we “point the finger” at them - usually in a metaphorical sense, but sometimes quite literally. How often we “point the finger” at others. My father strictly forbade us from pointing anything at another person, whether it was our finger, or a stick, or anything else. He very vehemently forbade us from pointing at someone, especially if what we were pointing imitated a gun. We were strictly forbidden to play war games with our toy guns. We were not allowed to point even a water pistol at another person. If paintball had existed when I was growing up, my father would have strictly forbidden us to do that. He would sternly correct us whenever we would point our finger at someone. Perhaps his revulsion for pointing things at another person, especially when the object being pointed was imitating a weapon, was a consequence of the horrific experiences that he had during World War II. “Pointing the finger” feeds into anger, and anger into violence. The pointing of the finger certainly does imitate the pointing of a pistol, and judging is a subtle weapon. I believe that my father was correct in his belief that “pointing the finger” and passing judgment can indeed be a kind of wielding of a weapon, however subtle it may be. Even if we disregard the idea of “pointing the finger” as a kind of weapon, it certainly can be regarded as a way of putting oneself in a position of power over another person. When I judge another person I am setting myself above that person, as though I am able to know the heart of that person. We may not realize it but “pointing the finger” and judging another person gives us an illusion of power and control over that person. For this reason judging is contrary to humility, and is therefore contrary to love. My father would sometimes remind us of that old axiom: “Whenever you point a finger at someone, there are three fingers pointing back at you.” This reflects the words of St. Paul: “For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God;” and the words of Jesus: “For as you judge, so will you be judged . . . the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.”

I remember once seeing a cartoon which depicted an open closet door with skeletons falling out, and the caption read: “While you were busy judging others, you left your closet open. Ooops!”

Judging contradicts loving: it builds a barrier to block loving interaction. Judging serves as a way of rationalizing my own reticence or even inability to step out of my comfort zone to be charitable and show mercy when doing so is difficult. Judging rationalizes away my stubbornness and unwillingness to imitate God, the Good Shepherd, to go the long distance over rough terrain to find and bring back the lost sheep. Judging helps to rationalize away my apathy and sluggishness about imitating God, the furiously sweeping woman, lighting the lamp and sweeping the house energetically in search of the lost coin. Judging lends a certain sense of legitimacy, justifiability, or acceptability to my own lack of charity. There is no loving God independently of loving our neighbor. I remember going a whole year avoiding a confrere in the monastery who offended me. I wouldn’t sit near him at table or other social settings to talk. During that year I received Holy Communion daily and would engage in my usual morning meditation before the Blessed Sacrament. One day, as I was meditating before the Blessed Sacrament, that passage from John came to my mind: “If anyone says, “I love God,” but hates his brother, he is a liar; for whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. This is the commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother (John 4:20-21). I suddenly felt a deep crisis of conscience: I was receiving Jesus in the Holy Eucharist every day and adoring him in the Blessed Sacrament while at the same time holding a grudge toward a confrere. During that year, I was speaking to God the very same way that I was speaking to my confrere: very graciously, and very superficially. That day I sought him out and got together to talk. What was so funny (or, I should say, sad; certainly embarrassing to acknowledge,) was that I could not for the life of me remember just what it was that caused me to feel so offended and feel so angry. He couldn’t remember either. While I was judging, I left my closet open. Ooops!!

All for Jesus,

Fr. Max