Luke 6:37-42 · Judging Others
The Jump To Judgment
Luke 6:39-49
Sermon
by David E. Leininger
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Mr. Jones picked up the wrong umbrella in a hotel, and the umbrella's rightful owner called his attention to it. Embarrassed, Mr. Jones offered his apologies, picked up the right one, and went on his way. But the incident served to remind Mr. Jones that he had promised to buy umbrellas for his wife and daughter, so he went across the street to a store and purchased one for each of them. As he came out from the store and began to get in his car — three umbrellas on his arm now — the man whose umbrella Mr. Jones had mistakenly taken happened to becoming out of the hotel and saw him. He eyed poor, old Jones suspiciously and said wryly, "Hmm, I see you had a good day after all."

Oops! Someone observed that the most exercise many people get is jumping to conclusions — the jump to judgment. It is obviously not a new problem. It has been around for thousands of years. Even Jesus had something to say about it. Folks quote him all the time, even using Elizabethan English: "Judge not that ye be not judged" (Luke 6:37 cf).

There is more to what he says, of course. 

Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, "Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye," when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye. — Luke 6:41-42

This is fun stuff. Somebody dumb enough to try to get a little teeny speck out of a friend's eye while all the time trying to peer around a huge log in his own. It's a funny picture. But then Jesus always was good with pictures. It is one of the reasons why people liked him so much. It was a cute way of bringing the point home. But cute or not, the point was one with eternal validity. "Don't tell him his troubles; you've got troubles of your own."

Clearly, we are to be most careful in condemning anyone if for no other reason than we are not perfect ourselves. We remember that when we point the finger of judgment at someone else, the other three fingers folded back in secret in our own hand are pointing right back at us. As that little poem from childhood has it,

There is so much good in the worst of us,
And so much bad in the best of us,
That it hardly behooves any of us
To talk about the rest of us.[1]

One more issue has to be dealt with here. Does this admonition about being judgmental mean that we have to ignore the evil that surrounds us? Is that French proverb that says, "To understand all is to forgive all" to become the guiding principle of our life? I think not. There are times when we are called upon to make judgments, but we need to be careful about them.

Sadly, one of the problems in today's church is that no one feels compelled to exercise solid judgment. It takes the most egregiously awful behavior before anyone is willing to call a halt. Ask someone to leave a church? Horrors! Not these days. But if you go back into the history of our tradition, you will find that the Protestant definition of the church is "that place in which the word is preached, the sacraments are administered, and discipline is exercised." Discipline? People are afraid. After all, "Judge not, that ye be not judged" (Luke 6:37 cf).

Recall the situation Paul addressed in chapter 5 of 1 Corinthians. A certain man in the church was sleeping with his stepmother, a practice that even the heathens would think immoral. But the good church folk in Corinth did not want to say anything; they did not want to judge. Paul had no problem — he was willing to judge by long-distance. "Throw the bum out," he said. "Don't you know that a little leaven leavens the whole lump?" (1 Corinthians 5:13 cf). There are times when judgments must be made.

Think about that fellow who saw the man with all the umbrellas. I suspect that most of us would have thought the same thing (that some wrong had been done), and we would have probably done the same thing (nothing). But the message we get from our legal authorities is that keeping quiet and failing to report suspected wrongdoing is simply bad citizenship. Obviously, as the case with Mr. Jones and his umbrellas points out, some investigation should occur before accusations are made. But failure to make any judgment at all, including a judgment to go ahead and investigate, is nothing more than callous indifference. And, if there is anything we should learn from Jesus' teaching it is that God's people cannot be indifferent. We are called to a life of love, and no one who truly loves can ever be indifferent.

Making judgments can be a dangerous thing. That is precisely why Jesus went on in such detail about being careful in them. But he would never have wanted to be misunderstood to the degree that some have misunderstood him saying that no one should make any kind of commonsense judgments at all.

So saying, let me offer this role model for you. Her name is Melanie Wilkes and you know her from Gone with the Wind.[2] Two  scenes involving Melanie are particularly significant. In the first, she, Scarlett O'Hara, and Mrs. Mead are leaving the Confederate hospital after a long day of nursing wounded soldiers. As they leave, a gaudily dressed, heavily made-up Belle Watling, the town prostitute, approaches them on the steps of the hospital. Scarlett tells Melanie not to talk with her but Melanie receives her with complete kindness, and then graciously takes Belle's contribution for the hospital, which neither of the other women would stoop to accept.

The second scene is one of the dramatic high points of the movie. You may remember that all through the story, Scarlett has had eyes for Melanie's husband, Ashley, and nursed secret dreams of running away with him. One day, Scarlett and Ashley are caught in mad embrace in the lumber shop. Word spreads through town like wildfire. Later that night, Melanie throws a surprise birthday party for Ashley. Rhett Butler demands that Scarlett go to the party as invited, so that Melanie can have the public satisfaction of throwing Scarlett out of her home. Scarlett arrives at the door dressed in a red gown, wearing plenty of rouge. Her eyes flash coldly like a cornered cat. The fiddler playing "For He's A Jolly Good Fellow" suddenly stops mid-phrase, and all the guests gasp. Eyes turn toward Melanie — what will she do? Melanie walks all the way across the room, greets Scarlett with open arms, and asks her to help receive the other guests. Then she takes her by the arm and escorts her through the gauntlet of people who had all judged her and wanted to see her thrown out.

Melanie Wilkes would never judge another person, even when it appeared she had every right and opportunity, even when her whole town would have cheered her if she had. When she died at the end of the movie, Rhett said simply, "She was the only truly kind person I have ever known." What a wonderful epitaph!

The jump to judgment. Jesus says be careful. Lord, let me be a Melanie Wilkes.


1. Edward W. Hoch (1849-1925) as it appeared in the Marion, Kansas, Record, a newspaper owned by him.

2. Margaret Mitchell, Gone With The Wind (New York: Scribner, 1936).

CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit, by David E. Leininger