The Fifth Sunday of Easter
10th May 2009: 9:00am & 11:45am
Preacher: The Revd Dr Anthony
Hutchinson
In Love there is No Judgment
God, breathe into us a desire to change— take
away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.
“God is love.” People often quote this
striking line from today’s epistle (1 John 4:16). But they rarely quote the
great insight about human nature that immediately follows:
God is Love
and the person who lives in love
lives in God and God lives in that person.
It is in this way that our love has reached perfection.
As a result we are open and confident on Judgment Day
because already in this world we are like Christ.
Love has no room for fear;
Rather, perfect love drives out fear,
for fear involves punishment.
Love has not reached perfection in one who is still afraid.
But as for us, we love because He loved us first. (1 John 4:16-19)
The logic of the passage depends on this insight: “In
love, there is no judgment.”
As people who love and are loved, most love we experience is flawed. It is
distorted by our demands and by the conditions we place on it. And so it is
often rejected, or turns toxic.
When our daughter was at college, she went through a rough time. She stopped
communicating with us. Through a lot of hard work, she got back on track. She
came home for a holiday and we reconnected. At a joyful moment in private, we
reassured her of our love, and said how proud we were of her.
Her body suddenly stiffened; her face went taut. Then she said caustically,
“Mom and Dad, I’m glad I meet your approval.”
We were only trying to express love, but all she felt was our appraising her
progress, measuring her performance. We loved her, and couldn’t help but want
“the best” for her. So our love was mixed necessarily with our judgment of what
was best for her, and this judgment of ours judgment provoked fear in
her. Things are much better now. But the experience is common, and tells us
about love.
Think of times when you have loved or been loved. Think of any kind of love you
have experienced—that of a friend, a sibling, a parent, a child, a romantic
lover, or even just that of a fellow human being.
When was that love at its best? Wasn’t it always when the love was there simply
because of love itself, not because of some need met, some desire realized, or
some standard fulfilled?
Think of when love went horribly wrong. Maybe it turned to hatred or loathing,
or became abusive in some way. Wasn’t the problem always at root some kind of
judgment, condemnation, or criticism?
How many of us have heard the following words where once there had been only
words of joyful love? “Stop judging me.” “She is always trying to change me.”
“I wish you would take me just as I am.” “Why do you always have to be so
critical?” “I love you, but I can’t be with you. It’s just too painful.”
When
We seem to be made in such a way that so far as our emotional selves are
concerned, love is incompatible with judgment and fear. If mixed, love is
rejected or corrupted. Even a whiff of evaluation will turn an expression of
love and approval sour through fear of not measuring up.
That’s why one of the basic principles of counseling is to listen without
judging. You cannot build trust as a counselor if you judge.
It’s why most conscious efforts at “tough love” generally
only alienate their object.
It’s why Jesus taught us to love, and not to judge.
But wait a minute: Isn’t Jesus going to be our judge? He loves us. How can
there be no judgment in love?
Even when we talk about God and Christ, there is no room in love for judgment.
At least, that’s how it feels.
When I was a student at the Catholic University of
America, I prayed regularly in the nearby National Shrine of the Immaculate
Conception. The main nave is cavernous. On the ceiling above the high altar is
an immense mosaic of Christ on the Day of Judgment. As you look up, he peers
down at you accusingly, eyes ablaze in anger.
Looking up at that mosaic, I always felt condemned, and
bound for hell. I always retreated to the crypt church in the basement for
prayer. That mosaic was just too threatening. I just couldn’t pray to Jesus for
mercy in the nave.
The Day of Judgment is an important part of the Church’s teaching about justice
and moral responsibility. But these doctrines do not require us to take the
image of God’s wrath more literally than we take God’s love.
In the Gospel of John, Jesus says, “If anyone hears me and doesn't obey me, I
don’t judge and condemn him. For I have come to save the world and not to judge it.” On
the last day, it will not be me doing the judging, he says, “it will be the
truth I have spoken that will judge all who reject me and my message” (John 12:
47-48).
C.S. Lewis describes this by saying that in the end, there will be only two
kinds of people, those who have said to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to
whom God must finally say, “Alright, have it your own way.”
The Day of Judgment does not mean that God’s love, like human love, is
corrupted by judgment and bound to produce fear. When we say “Christ will come
again to be our judge” in the creed, we affirm God’s love and mercy, not God’s
harsh judgment.
But wait—in this life we have to judge. What if the person we love is doing
really bad things? Aren’t we obliged to help? And doesn’t this include
recognition of standards?
There are non-judgmental ways of responding to real problems. We don’t accuse
or say “you are wrong here.” We talk about how the person’s behavior affects
us. We are honest about our feelings, but we don’t try to apply labels. Couples
and family counselors regularly teach people how to address real problems
fairly. Usually it involves use of the formula: “I feel [fill in the emotion] when
you [fill in the behavior] because [fill in how the person’s behavior causes
your feeling.]
Just trying not to judge or not to get angry because Jesus
taught us this simply won’t do. We end up doing both anyway, and usually
alienate ourselves from our own emotional lives to the degree that we disengage
from others. That is not love. That is emotional death.
In today’s epistle reading, John doesn’t say simply that love is incompatible
with fear and judgment. He says that perfect love drives out fear. It
heals the hurt caused by judgment and in its stead gives openness, frankness,
and confidence.
In today’s epistle, it is only as we seek to love, and remain in love, that we
live in God and God lives in us. He gives us his spirit. As a result, our love
is made more and more complete. In the end, our love ends up being like God’s,
even here and now.
Paul calls this process “sanctification.”
Today’s gospel describes it in the image of Christ as the true vine and
believers as his branches.
Such practice in love must start in love. If it starts through a sense
of obligation because of fear of condemnation, it won’t last. That is just
going through the motions of love. This is better than not going through the
motions. But unless it finds it can root itself in love, even this effort at
imitating Christ is bound to corrupt itself and end in contempt and cynicism.
Gratitude for perfect love freely given is the only sure beginning point. Just
as the human heart cannot feel love and judgment at the same time, it cannot be
full of gratitude at the same time as judgment and resentment.
Trying to build love on anything other than gratitude is like my mother telling
me and my brother as little boys to hug, forgive each other, and make up after
a particularly nasty fight. We would sullenly go through the motions, and spit
out the words. She would say “Now do it again and MEAN it.” Love cannot come
from being commanded. It can only come from the gratitude from being loved
first.
John describes this: “In this, then, does love consist: not that we have loved
God, but that He loved us and sent his son as a means to drive away our
failings.” (1 John 4:10).
Friends, God is Love. Our love is imperfect,
corrupted by fear and judgment, and often fails. But God’s love is perfect. He
has loved us, pathetic creatures that we are, through coming to us in the
person of Jesus. And Jesus did not come to judge us. He came to save us. May we
be grateful for this, and be transformed by our gratitude. May we let him
perfect our love and drive away our fear.
In the name of God, Amen.