And judge not, and ye shall not be judged; condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned. Remit, and it shall be remitted to you.
The Lord has just told His disciples to be merciful, as their Father is merciful. Now He turns that mercy into three commands, and two questions follow: does "judge not" shut down all moral judgment, and what forgiveness does He promise in return?
Luke's version of this discourse does not close the section on love with a call to perfection, as Matthew's does. One commentator marks the difference and then shows what the shift produces in verse 37.
So the call in this Gospel is not the one in Matthew, "You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect," but "Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful." … Any believer can feel the force of a command like "Judge not, and you will not be judged." What is set before us here is the habit of fault-finding, the charging of people with bad motives, and the danger that it all comes back on us.
One writer, looking at the whole passage, sees these commands as the Father's own character, copied by children He has named as His own.
In verses 27-36 we see the character of God their Father, shown in the grace that came in Christ, and they were to copy it. Notice this: He makes the Father's name known, and He puts them in the place of children.
What the Lord bans is an inward habit, not honest judgment about right and wrong. It shows itself in three ways. We give other people needless attention. We assume bad motives. We stay harsh even where the fault is real.
There is a wrong spirit of judgment. Suppose I spend my time needlessly thinking about others and giving my opinion of them. Suppose that, in unclear cases, I put wrong motives on them, even in my own mind. Suppose I do not even hope that the real motive was a good one. Then I am in the spirit of judgment, and away from God. And if I am bound to judge that someone is at fault, but hardness towards the person takes hold of me, that is not the Spirit of God.
The same words suit anyone who wants no one looking at his conduct. One writer warns against that use and marks out two senses of judging.
Selfish people can easily abuse this principle. Suppose someone is living an evil life and uses this passage to deny that anyone has a right to judge his conduct. Clearly he has no conscience about it and no spiritual understanding. Self has blinded him, and he is only turning the Lord's words into an excuse for sin. … It is plain, therefore, that there is a sense in which I am to judge, and another in which I am not.
Even where a wrong is real, your aim decides how you speak of it. And how you treat others shapes how they treat you.
If we are to be merciful, we must drop the judging, critical attitude, even when others are wrong (v.37). We are not their masters. If we do speak of their wrongs, let it be from a real desire to see them restored and blessed, not to put them down. As a rule, if we hold back harsh criticism, we find others are less likely to criticize us. If we forgive others freely, they are more likely to forgive us. And we must remember that there are times when we need forgiveness too.
The third command turns from holding back to letting go. It runs straight on into the giving of verse 38.
On the other hand, the Lord says, "forgive, and you will be forgiven." (The older translation the writer used reads, "release, and it shall be released to you.") That is the spirit of grace when we are wronged. "Give, and it will be given to you." That is the spirit of large generosity. And who ever knew a giver who had nothing to give or to receive?
The forgiveness promised in return is not the settling of a sinner's eternal standing. Commenting on the matching promise in Matthew, one writer separates the two carefully.
The heavenly Father rules His children in holiness, and an unforgiving spirit brings His discipline. If someone wrongs us and we refuse to forgive, we will miss His forgiveness in the way He deals with us day by day. This is not about forgiveness for eternity. The Lord was speaking to disciples, and that great matter was already settled for them.
- Source. The measure is not fairness but the Father's own mercy. He first puts the disciple in the place of a child, then asks the child to act like Him.
- Restraint. The ban falls on a fault-finding spirit: needless opinions, bad motives read into people, harshness even where the fault is real.
- Discernment. The verse never cancels moral judgment; used to shield an evil course, it is turned into an excuse for sin. There is a judging we must do and a judging we must not.
- Release. Then comes action. To let a wrong go is the spirit of grace, and giving is that same spirit overflowing.
- Return. What comes back is the Father's forgiveness in His daily dealings with His children. The eternal question is already settled for them.
Give, and it shall be given to you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall be given into your bosom for with the same measure with which ye mete it shall be measured to you again.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And he spoke also a parable to them Can a blind [man] lead a blind [man]? shall not both fall into [the] ditch?
Jesus tells a short parable about eyesight and leadership. It raises two hard questions. Who is fit to guide others? And what happens to the person who follows a guide who cannot see?
The picture came from real life. Shepherds sometimes gave their flock a leader with no eyes at all.
On blind leaders, compare Matthew 15:14. It refers to the shepherds' custom, when angry with their flock, of giving them a blind sheep as a leader. The same was done with bad administrators of a town.
The saying had a first target: the religious leaders of Israel. But the follower is not innocent. A person takes the shape of whatever he submits to.
The "blind" here are, no doubt, first of all the Jewish leaders. But being a follower will not save a man from the pit. The truth speaks for itself to anyone who has ears to hear. Suppose a man hands himself over entirely to another's leadership. Then his conscience stands before man, not before God... Whatever a man yields himself to is bound to shape him. So if he gives himself to a teacher of error, he will not rise above his teacher. Once fully trained, he will only be like him.
If the follower still falls into the pit, a guide's standing counts for nothing. Something outside the guide must be the test.
Authority then is nothing, if it is not the authority of the word of God. That is the test — is it according to the Scriptures?... To say, "I could not, of course, know: I trusted another" will not save you from the pit.
The parable sets a standard for anyone who helps others. The goal is not a sighted man towing the blind along. Both are meant to have their eyes open.
The first principle the Lord lays down here is this: a man must see for himself to lead others rightly. Christianity supposes a new nature and the Spirit of God. A man without that nature and the power of the Spirit cannot rightly help others... Anyone called to help others on must be taught of God. Not in mind only, but in heart and conscience. He must be well furnished in Scripture, so that he can rightly handle the word of truth. The blind, therefore, cannot lead the blind. Nor is it Christianity that the seeing should lead the blind. The true principle of our calling is that the seeing should lead the seeing — the very reverse of the blind leading the blind.
That principle has a practical test built into it. What a believer receives should be able to survive the loss of the person who taught it to him.
Whatever the believer receives, whatever the means used, rests on the word of God and not on the authority of a church or a teacher. If the teacher is removed or goes astray, he still sees the truth for himself in the light of God.
The warning did not stop with Israel's leaders. Kelly saw the same fall happening in the wider Christian world, and in two opposite directions.
This is just what the Christian world is falling into fast, by confusing Christianity with Judaism. Some take the side of unbelief, some the side of superstition. But both fall into the pit, on the one side or the other.
The parable follows straight on from the Lord's words in verses 37 and 38. Read that way, it is an invitation, not only a warning.
The Lord's parable in verse 39 connects with verses 37 and 38. If someone is blind to what the Lord has been teaching, he needs another with open eyes to lead him. If both are blind, neither has a proper example to follow: they both fall into the pit. The believer is not blind, but let him keep his eyes open!... Let us therefore learn well from the Lord Himself, and we shall become more like Him.
So how does anyone gain clear sight? The work begins inside.
A man must judge evil within himself before he can judge it outside. That gives tenderness and compassion, as well as clear sight. Judging without self-judgment is only hypocrisy.
- The picture. A blind sheep put in front of the flock. That is the picture of Israel's guides, and of anyone who leads without sight.
- The guide. Only a man taught of God in heart and conscience, and furnished in Scripture, is fit to lead others on.
- The led. Whoever you surrender to shapes you. A blind follower ends up like his teacher — and in the same pit.
- The test. Authority is nothing unless it is the authority of God's word — "I trusted another" is no defence.
- The cure. Judge yourself first. Self-judgment gives clear sight, and clear sight keeps you out of the pit.
The disciple is not above his teacher, but every one that is perfected shall be as his teacher.
These words close Jesus' sermon on the plain, right after the picture of one blind man leading another into a ditch. They set the limit and the goal of learning from Him: no student outranks his teacher, yet the trained student ends up like Him.
Leading others starts with seeing the way yourself.
The first principle the Lord lays down here is that a man must see for himself if he is to lead others rightly... he who has not that nature and the power of the Spirit is incapable of rightly helping others... The blind, therefore, cannot lead the blind. Neither is it Christianity that the seeing should lead the blind. The true principle of our calling is that the seeing should lead the seeing. That is the very opposite of the blind leading the blind.
The same writer shows where good teaching leaves the learner. He does not stay dependent on the man who taught him.
Although every believer is supposed to see, yet he may not see clearly. He has the capacity, but he may not yet have practised using it. But once the truth is set out plainly, he can see it at once, and perhaps as clearly as the man who taught it. So what he receives stands on the Word of God, whatever means were used, and not on the authority of a church or a teacher. If the teacher is taken away or goes astray, he still sees the truth for himself in the light of God.
Older translations render "fully trained" as "perfected." One writer ties the word to conduct and standards, not to the disciple's inward nature.
"Everyone that is perfect shall be as his Master." (Luke 6:40, older translation.) This points to the principles of the believer's conduct. It means taking in his Master's principles in full. There is no reference here to the nature of the disciple, but to the light and principles that ought to guide him. We can allow no example but the perfect walk of Jesus Christ Himself.
Another writer draws the same line: the subject here is discipleship, not salvation.
The disciple is to be conformed to Christ... It was not salvation, but discipleship, that was in question here. What He expressed was the thing to learn, and the blessed privilege of the disciple was to be conformed to his Master. The teaching was the expression of the truth of His character.
Being like Him has a price in this world.
On the other hand, "the disciple is not above his teacher." Our portion is according to Christ. Christ was despised, and so are we. Christ was persecuted, and so must the disciple be content to be. He has Christ's portion: if above, so upon earth.
One writer applies the verse to Paul's trials, where the likeness runs both ways.
Through his trials the Apostle proved the truth of the Lord's words to His own: "A disciple is not above his teacher" (Luke 6:40). If the Master suffered in passing through a world of sin and sorrow, so will His disciples suffer. But if in our little measure we taste "the sufferings of the Christ," we shall also experience the consolations of Christ.
Christ teaches by giving away what is His own.
The disciple is not above his master, but you shall be as your Master... If Christ teaches you, it is to make you have the divine learning that He has Himself. And see what a place He gives us! When He gives, what does He give? The very same that He has Himself. "As He is, so are we in this world."
Christ is our Master as well as our Lord. He teaches much that He never commands.
There may be things, and there are many, which Jesus as Lord does not command, but which as Master He teaches. I believe most inconsistencies are justified on this ground: they are not forbidden, or the word does not lay down that line of conduct in an orderly way... I believe many of the good works that adorn the gospel are not pressed on us by a positive commandment. We learn them in the school of Christ. He is our one Master, and we are His disciples.
- See first. No one leads others further than his own sight reaches; the seeing lead the seeing, never the blind the blind.
- See for yourself. Truth taught well leaves the learner standing on God's Word. If the teacher goes or fails, the light stays.
- Trained, not flawless. "Perfected" means a disciple has taken in his Master's principles. It speaks of discipleship and conduct, not of a changed nature.
- Likeness costs. Not being above Him means sharing His portion: despised, persecuted — and comforted in the same measure.
- Likeness gives. He teaches to hand over what is His own: "As He is, so are we in this world."
But why lookest thou on the mote which is in the eye of thy brother, but perceivest not the beam which is in thine own eye?
The Lord is teaching His disciples how to treat the faults of other people. He does not ask whether the fault in the other person is real. He asks why the small fault in someone else is so easy to see, while the large one in your own eye is not.
The verse sets a speck (older translations say "mote") against a log or beam. One writer explains what each one stands for:
The Lord Jesus now gives His disciples a very clear picture. It shows how foolish a person is who thinks he can judge his brother while looking down on him. The speck in the brother's eye is the wrong thing one thinks he sees in him. But the beam in the eye is the evil in one's own heart. A person deliberately overlooks it, though it is plain to see. An experienced man once said: "I do not know as much evil about anyone as I know about myself. That makes me careful in judging others."
The comparison of sizes is also a comparison of knowledge:
And this self-judgment is always of the "beam" as compared with the "mote" in others. For what can we know of others compared with what we may and should know of ourselves?
The Lord asks "why". One writer names the root:
Then there is another danger, and that is being critical. We should warn against the habit of always seeing faults in others, and watch against it. "Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye?" What is the real root of it? Wherever there is the habit of noticing faults in others, there is always an overlooking of our own... love would meet another's need. Self is blind and busy. It forgets its own faults, but can be eager to correct others for its own glory.
Why does the beam matter so much? It ruins the sight a person needs to help anyone else:
The picture of the eye points to the state of the heart, as it does in chapter 6:22-23. The Lord seems to be thinking especially of the spiritual ability to judge. Think of someone whose ability to judge is badly blocked by his own unjudged sin. How could he help another who may have been caught in a fault through spiritual carelessness? It is simply impossible.
The Lord calls the other man "your brother". One writer weighs that word:
"To your brother." There is no spirit of love in it. A person cannot say "brother" sincerely while doing this. There is really pleasure in seeing the fault, a spirit of comparison... No one ought to find fault until he is able to say "Brother," in that spirit and because he loves him... "You do not notice" — it may be forgetfulness. But there is surely a real moral fault in this: we see our neighbour's sin and not our own. It is not so with the repentant man. Until he is cleared, he is full of his own sins. Then he can speak in the spirit of love that knows forgiveness.
The Lord's order is not "never notice". It is "deal with yourself first":
Get the large thing removed first — the thing that stops you from seeing clearly. Most likely you will then find that the speck in your brother's eye is gone too. Very often people in a bad, sour state of soul are the ones who spot these specks. And if we really do see failure in another, what is the best use we can make of that discovery? To correct it in ourselves. Then we may help our brother.
Clear sight is not the only result:
Self-judgment by grace always tends to produce humility and love. Take the man who has been through such an exercise about the beam in his own eye. He will be able to act far more tenderly in taking the speck out of his brother's eye.
- Look. The speck is the wrong thing you think you see in someone else. The beam is the evil in your own heart that you overlook on purpose.
- Root. A habit of noticing faults in others always comes with an overlooking of our own. That is the root the Lord's question exposes.
- Blindness. The eye pictures the state of the heart. Unjudged sin blocks the ability to judge, so you cannot help anyone else.
- Brother. Do not find fault until you can say "Brother" and mean it in love. Otherwise the correction is only a spirit of comparison.
- Removal. Take out the large thing first. Very often the speck is then gone too. Where it remains, self-judgment makes the hand that removes it a tender one.
or how canst thou say to thy brother, Brother, allow [me], I will cast out the mote that is in thine eye, thyself not seeing the beam that is in thine eye? Hypocrite, cast out first the beam out of thine eye, and then thou shalt see clear to cast out the mote which is in the eye of thy brother.
The Lord has just pictured a man who offers to take a speck out of his brother's eye while a log blocks his own sight. Now He names that attitude with one sharp word — hypocrite — and then promises clear sight to anyone who deals with himself first.
(The quotations below use the older wording "beam" and "mote" where the ESV has "log" and "speck.")
The contrast is one of size:
Any small particle or splinter. It pictures small failings, in contrast to larger faults, called "beams." The Lord Jesus was exposing the hypocrisy of those who see and magnify small faults in others, and pass over greater ones in themselves.
But the measurement is not fixed by the fault itself. Samuel Ridout reads the two words as describing where the fault sits rather than how bad it is:
No matter what it is, if it is in my eye it is a beam, and no matter what it is in my brother's eye it is a mote until I have judged myself — "and then you will see clearly to cast the mote out of your brother's eye."
The charge is not that the fault-finder is wrong about the fault. It is that his own mind has never changed about the same thing. The word "brother" on his lips is hollow:
There is not the spirit of love in it. One cannot say "brother" sincerely in doing it, for indeed there is pleasure in seeing the fault, a spirit of comparison... Therefore He says elsewhere: "You hypocrite." It shows our mind is not changed about the thing, yet we find fault with it in another. So it is plainly not love... you are bad enough yourself, and so you cannot have a right moral judgment to direct others.
The order of judging decides the character of the whole act:
We must judge evil within ourselves before we judge it outside. This will give tenderness and compassion, as well as clear sight. Judging without self-judgment is but hypocrisy.
William Kelly traces the sharp eye for others back to a blind eye for oneself. Self-judgment, he says, gives more than clear sight:
Wherever there is the habit of beholding faults in others, there is an overlooking of our own... Our own fault, unjudged, always obstructs our giving real help to another. But when we have judged ourselves, we not only see more clearly. We also take up the work more humbly and lovingly.
There is another reason we make poor judges of other people. We do not know them as we know ourselves:
If we fail to see our own grave shortcomings and sins before God, we do not know our brothers with anything like the same certainty and clearness. So love and the fear of God call each of us to think others better than ourselves. We judge ourselves for what we do know, instead of judging others for what we do not know and ought not to think.
Once the log is out, the result is often a surprise — and one a loving heart welcomes:
Again and again we find that when the beam is gone, the mote is nowhere to be seen. It has already disappeared... Should I not rejoice to find the grace of the Lord in my brother, if I discover in self-judgment that only I was wrong?
The verse ends by sending you to your brother's eye, not away from it. Commentators warn against turning the Lord's words into a shield:
How often devout people use it to fend off any criticism of their own position! They use it to avoid any care against false doctrine, evil associations, or the responsibility for the discipline Scripture calls for. But this is a failure in godliness. Godliness covers not only personal conduct but also public walk.
So why does evil so often go unchecked? Not because God is content to leave it, but because the qualification is missing:
Does God want evil like that dealt with in His Church? Surely He does. But what is the reason there is no power to deal with it? The reason is this. If I am to carry out any discipline on my brother, there must first be the deepest judgment of self. There must be the sense of my own sin and shortcoming, and the most unbending judgment of myself.
- First — the log. Whatever fault is in my own eye counts as the large one. The fault in my brother's eye stays a speck until I have judged myself.
- First — the heart. Hypocrisy is not misreading the fault. It is never changing my own mind about it, and enjoying the comparison. Then I cannot call him "brother" and mean it.
- Then — clear sight. Self-judgment does more than sharpen my sight. It also makes me humble and loving toward my brother.
- Then — a surprise. Often, once the log is gone, the speck is nowhere to be found. A heart set on the Lord is glad to have been wrong.
- Then — real power. The verse does not cancel dealing with evil. It gives the one qualification for it, so the speck really comes out.