Let us no longer therefore judge one another; but judge ye this rather, not to put a stumbling-block or a fall-trap before his brother.
Paul has been dealing with believers who disagreed about food and holy days. He has just pointed them to a judgment still to come. Verse 13 now turns the word "judge" around: the Christian is to judge his own conduct, not his brother's.
The first half of the verse closes a door. One writer compares our verdicts with the judgment still to come:
The instruction that rests on this comes in verse 13, and it has two parts — the negative and the positive. The negative side is this: "Therefore let us not pass judgment on one another any longer." There is no need to. Our judgments are at best partial and imperfect. His judgment, which is still to come, is complete and perfect.
Neither side of the dispute is exempt. The two groups fail in different ways, yet both need the same settled decision:
This principle is as true for the strong as for the weak. The weak were more likely to judge, and the strong to look down on others. But both must settle this in their own minds, if they do not want to become a cause of stumbling or offence, whether in what they do or in what they think.
The verse names two things, and they are not the same picture. The first is simply an obstacle left lying where someone walks:
Anything put in another person's way that he might trip over and fall. The law forbade it, and such things had to be taken out of Israel's path. Lev. 19:14; Isa. 57:14… In the church, everyone should take care to do nothing that might make another person stumble. Rom. 14:13; 1 Cor. 8:9.
The second word is sharper. It is the word for a trap:
The Greek word skandalon means a trap or a pit, into which animals are drawn by bait. But this word is used in many passages where "snare" would not work as the translation.
The second half of the verse does not end judgment — it redirects it. A different motive now drives it:
So far, the Apostle has shown us that plain duty would keep us from interfering with one another about food and holy days. Now he shows another motive that would keep us from judging one another in such matters: we are to walk according to love (15). Moved by love for our brother, we should be careful not to put any stumbling block in his way.
A person can claim to answer to the Lord alone and still not care about the people around him:
Someone can boast that he is subject to the Lord while showing no real concern for the blessing of God's people. This is a hollow sham. If anyone says he loves God, let him love his brother also.
The practical outcome is that liberty is real but not unlimited. What settles the question is not what I am entitled to do, but what my doing it will do to someone else:
In such a case I must keep my hands off you. I must not drag you before my judgment seat and demand that you agree with my thoughts. In other matters you may be the weak brother and I the strong. Then I must be careful again, in case I look down on you and insist on going my own way… I may be sure that the thing in question is the will of the Lord, and something I would normally do. But if doing it here would harm you, then it is the will of the Lord that I hold back.
My brother's path is part of my own responsibility. One thing keeps me from blocking it:
He has to make straight paths for those who are off the road (Heb. 12:13). He is to watch his own way with care, in case a careless use of his liberty makes him a hindrance in his brother's path without his knowing it… Meanwhile there is only one way to avoid causing someone to stumble. Love for one's brothers, if it is real, is a sure safeguard against giving offence (1 John 2:10).
- Stop judging. Your brother's case belongs in a better court. Our judgment is partial; His is complete.
- Start judging. The same word comes back, now aimed at yourself. Judge whether your freedom leaves obstacles where your brother walks.
- Two dangers. A stumbling block is an obstacle left in the path. The second word means a baited trap. The harm can be careless or deliberate.
- Both sides. The weak judge and the strong look down on others. This verse calls both to the same resolve.
- Love decides. Duty keeps you out of your brother's business. Love keeps you out of his way. To claim you serve the Lord while ignoring his welfare is a hollow sham.
I know, and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus, that nothing is unclean of itself; except to him who reckons anything to be unclean, to that man [it is] unclean.
Paul states his own conviction: no food carries defilement in itself. Yet the same verse gives the weaker believer's own judgment real weight. What he counts unclean is unclean for him, and the strong cannot overrule it.
Paul does not offer this as a private opinion. He is persuaded "in the Lord Jesus." But being clear about the truth does not settle how a strong believer should treat a weaker one.
The question here is not really about food, which never profited those who lived by such rules. It is a good thing for the heart to be established by grace. The Lord Jesus is also the truth, and He has put everything in the light of God. But we must respect conscience, and the strong must be careful not to weaken or wound another's conscience, whatever his own conviction may be.
Why did he not simply settle the dispute and move on?
He was clear about the Lord's mind, but he would not insist on it at first. He cared more that the affections should be right than that he should lay down an accurate judgment. In truth, only this way can anyone reach soundness in settling every question. Wrong feelings falsify the judgment.
The clean-and-unclean food laws were not woven into creation from the start. One writer traces the whole statement back to Noah, before Israel existed.
These distinctions were not made in Noah's day — see Genesis 9:2-3. This fact, we believe, lies behind Paul's statement that "nothing is unclean in itself" (Rom. 14:14); and again, "all things are lawful for me" (1 Cor. 10:23). In Noah's day all men were in view. In Moses' day only Israel was in view. These special laws had two aims: to impress the holiness of God on the people, and to help keep them distinct and separate from the nations.
If defilement is not in the food, the question is where it does sit. The answer given is that a taught soul can tell the difference between the thing and the person handling it.
As far as God's creation goes, a soul taught by God can see that these things have no moral evil in them. The evil is of course in the heart of man, who corrupts these things. But if a Christian lacks the discernment Paul had, then whatever he regards as unclean is unclean to him. If he indulges in it, he cannot help defiling his conscience.
The second half of the verse is not about the object at all, but about the effect on the one acting. Going against your own light damages you, even when your light is dim.
This shows how important it is to act in line with the light you have. The question here is not the Lord's will in itself, but the effect on your own conscience. If I believe a certain thing is unclean or wrong and still indulge in it, my conscience is defiled. It is unclean to me, whatever it may be in the Lord's estimation.
Scripture itself sets this up, so conscience is not being raised above the Bible here.
The word is, of course, the test of truth. But in certain cases the word itself makes the conscience or judgment of the believer the rule of conduct (Rom. 14:14). This gives individual conscience or private persuasion a high authority.
So pressure is dangerous. Talk a man into an act he still doubts, and you do him harm.
Paul was fully persuaded that no meat in itself was unclean. But if eating meat gave a brother a bad conscience, it would become an occasion of defilement to him. So we must be careful not to use our liberty to persuade a brother to do something his conscience is against. We are persuading him to act beyond his faith. As far as the effect of our act goes, we are leading him to violate his conscience and so drive him from Christ.
Knowing which side is right is not Paul's first concern.
Paul's primary question is not "Who is right?" or even "What is right?", but: "How can we deal with our brothers and sisters in a Christian and Christ-honouring way?"
This patience has a limit. Bearing with a brother's scruple is one thing; letting anyone make that scruple a rule for all is another.
Suppose someone tried to force the eating of herbs, abstinence from meats, or the keeping of days as a yoke on the necks of the disciples. Then it would be our place to resist without compromise.
- Clean. Nothing in God's creation is defiling in itself. The food laws marked out Israel for a time; they were not there from the beginning.
- Corrupted. Where evil exists it is in the heart of man who spoils these things, not in the thing he handles.
- Conscience. A believer's own persuasion becomes his rule. Act against it and you defile yourself, whatever the thing may be in the Lord's estimation.
- Care. Since that is so, arguing a brother into acting beyond his faith wounds him and can drive him from Christ.
- Christ. Paul's leading question is not who is right, but how to treat a brother in a way that honours the Lord. Even then, no scruple may be made binding on all.
For if on account of meat thy brother is grieved, thou walkest no longer according to love. Destroy not him with thy meat for whom Christ has died.
The word translated grieved is not about hurt feelings over a difference of taste. It describes what happens inside a believer who is pushed to act against what he believes is right.
Paul was fully persuaded that no meat in itself was unclean. But if eating meat would give a brother a bad conscience, it would become a cause of defilement to him. So we are to be careful not to use our liberty in trying to persuade a brother to do something he has a conscience about. We are persuading him to act beyond his faith. As far as our act goes, we are leading him to violate his conscience and so drive him from Christ.
The freedom Paul defends earlier in the chapter is real, and he never withdraws it. But a believer holds that freedom in his own heart. Among others, love governs how he uses it.
A Christian always holds this sense of liberty firmly in his heart. But where he is with others, the mightier principle of love is to temper it in practice. He is not to think of himself, but to have regard to the state and needs of those he is with, or before whom he walks.
The same action can be right in one setting and wrong in another. The difference is the brother standing next to you.
I may be convinced that the thing in question is the will of the Lord, and one I would usually do. But if, in these circumstances, doing it would damage you, then the will of the Lord is that I refrain from doing it.
This is the strongest word in the verse, and commentators handle it carefully. One writer stresses that the ruin is what our action tends toward, not something we can achieve.
The importance of this principle cannot be overestimated. The apostle does not mean that we can bring about the destruction of a brother. He means that, as far as we are concerned, we act by asserting our liberty in a way that would tend to damage him eternally.
Another writer draws the line more sharply still.
Do not for a moment suppose that the words "do not destroy" can mean the destruction of eternal life. Scripture cannot contradict itself. If it appears to, then clearly we have not got the true sense of at least one of the texts. If the eternal life we have in Christ could be destroyed, then it would not be eternal.
Yet the warning still stands. Another writer refuses to let the reader stop at what the word rules out:
How terrible it is that we can destroy, or cause to perish, our brother. Do not say, This does not mean this or that; think of what it does mean, rather than the opposite. Surely it means at least this much: a wasted life that might have been fragrant with Christ. A missing of the mark God desired for him. A grieving of the heart of the Christ who died for him.
Paul does not argue from the weak believer's merits. He names the price Christ paid for him, and that price settles how you treat him.
Christ died so that he might be your brother, and that you might be his brother. How are you treating him — as a brother, or as a criminal? He may be weak in the faith, and ignorant of much knowledge that has made you proud; he may be anything you care to call him, but Christ died for him. He could not have done more for him than that. What value the Lord has set on him! To die for him!
One writer weighs what Christ gave up against what we refuse to give up.
"By what you eat, do not destroy the one for whom Christ died." The attitude of disregard for a brother's conscience is the very principle of destroying him. But Christ died for him! — what a contrast. He sacrificed His life to save him from destruction. Shall we sacrifice nothing for the blessing of the saints of God?
- Grieved — the issue is a brother's conscience, not his taste. Push him past his own faith and you lead him to violate himself.
- Love — liberty is real, and a believer holds it firmly in his heart. Among others, love tempers it. A weaker brother nearby can make it the Lord's will that you refrain.
- Cost — the brother's worth is measured by the death of Christ; Christ could have done no more for him than He did.
- Contrast — Christ sacrificed His life to save that man from ruin. Will we not sacrifice a meal for him?
- Restraint — "destroy" never means lost eternal life. What is at stake is a wounded conscience, a wasted life, and grief to the Christ who died for him.