“When you think about the word judgment, what thoughts come to mind?” I asked my Christian Beliefs class. As a rule, the answer would be negative. Occasionally, however, a brave voice would state the opposite. My goal in broaching the subject was to emphasize the truth that judgment, whether divine or human, when correctly conducted, is the best thing that could happen.
But if I had been asked that question 25 years ago, I also might have answered negatively. Indeed, today my answer would be twofold. Theologically, I know God’s judgment is right, for it sets the record straight and exonerates His saints because they have accepted the atoning merits of the blood of Jesus Christ. Deep down, however, I still have some fear because I know there are some spiritual battles that I fight and lose more often than I win.
Do I still have that childhood image of a God whose patience wears thin with me because I seem to be making very little progress with some of my spiritual growth issues—even though my theological understanding tells me God loves me and is unwilling that I should perish?
Authorities
Perhaps I am guilty of ascribing my views of civil law enforcement upon the Divine Lawgiver. How often have I taken my foot off the accelerator when I saw a police officer in the distance—even if I was driving within the speed limit? And if the traffic flow is heavy and an officer pulls onto the roadway, my paranoia convinces me that of all the people the officer could attempt to stop, the officer is coming for me. Or how often have I seen police officers endangering their own lives to help a stranded motorist, and I thought that their doing so was the exception rather than the rule? I fail to realize that police officers aren’t gleefully looking for troublemakers. Indeed, they would be thrilled if their days and nights were free of conflict.
Anxieties
Or perhaps my anxieties arise because I have seen judgment misapplied. History is replete with accounts of those who can afford the best legal counsel and escape the judicial process with nothing more than the proverbial “slap on the wrist.” They may not have even received that much—while the innocent are, more times than we wish to admit, convicted based on circumstantial evidence and the testimony of unreliable witnesses.
Often people have come to me and said, “Has anyone ever told you that you look like . . . ?” And I say to myself, “I hope no one who looks like me commits a crime, because the authorities might come looking for me!” As I write this editorial I am in a hotel room more than two thousand miles away from home, in unfamiliar surroundings. No one in this beautiful city knows me, and that can add to my anxieties. What if I were to be falsely accused of some crime? (Not that I expect something to legally go awry.)
Approval
But if, for some stranger reason, I was brought before the criminal authorities, I should not fear judgment. Why not? Because if I can account for where I was and what I was doing, then I should quickly be exonerated. At this point judgment would become a process that leads to my approval; therefore, I should welcome judgment with open arms.
While I still wouldn’t cherish the possibility of human judgment (since something could go wrong), I’m glad I don’t have to worry about God’s judgment, for God does not err.
Some do wonder, though, about the justice of God in administering the negative elements of judgment—better known as hellfire or destruction. Is it fair for some to burn longer than others? Why do those eternally lost individuals even have to experience such a cruel ending? Couldn’t they just die and no longer exist? In our lead article, Woodrow W. Whidden explores the justice of God as He passes judgment upon the unrepentant.
Appreciation
A lot of things about God’s judgment I still grapple with. Most notably:
• how great the grace of God must be—that it can reach down to rescue and redeem me
• that He actually is “just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (Rom. 3:26, NASB).
• that God made Jesus “who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2 Cor. 5:21, NASB).
Knowing that Jesus bore the judgment of eternal death for me, that He experienced the negative elements of judgment for me, that He endangered His own life to help this poor stranded sinner—all this elicits my appreciation.
And if His sacrifice elicits your appreciation, then why don’t you, along with me, live each day that He gives us His breath as a life of steadfast devotion?