God’s Judgment vs. Human Judgment
What does it look like when God judges evil? Does it look the same as when I judge someone?
The Cross & God’s Judgment
The cross was God’s ultimate judgment of evil (John 12:31, Galatians 3:13). So what happened on the cross will tell us a lot about how God deals with the evil in us. But there are many different views of what actually happened on the cross.
Was it:
Jesus becoming our sin? (2 Cor. 5:21)
Jesus taking on our sin? (1 Peter 2:24)
Jesus’ sacrifice replacing our sin’s punishment? (Isaiah 53:5)
Jesus being sacrificed by the Father? (1 John 4:10)
Jesus being murdered by humanity? (Acts 3:15)
Jesus offering Himself up willingly? (Hebrews 10:12, Ephesians 5:2, Hebrews 9:14)
The Father forsaking the Son as He took on the world’s sin? (Psalm 22:1-2)
The Father never leaving the Son as the Son took on the world’s sin, but rather reconciling the world to Himself through Him? (Psalm 22:23-31, John 8:29, 2 Corinthians 5:19)
The cross shows us everything we need to know about sin, evil, and shame. We could gaze upon the cross, meet Jesus there thousands of times, and still not completely unravel its mysteries, but I’m convinced that the answers are all there.
If we believe God’s judgment of evil means separation and distance from us in our own evil and shame, if we believe the Father actually turned away from the Son on the cross, then won’t we tend to treat ourselves the same way? Leading to greater dis-integration and mental illness, not healing and wholeness?
What we think God did with evil on the cross has a great impact on not only how we believe He responds to the evil in us today, but also how we respond to the evil we see in others and ourselves.
God’s Judgment vs. Human Judgment
Human judging is analyzing a person’s heart and motives, that I may distance myself and separate if the person doesn’t measure up. When we “cancel” people, we’re basically saying, “I would condemn you to hell—ultimate separation and cutting off—if I could.” So when we think of God judging evil, we also tend to think of Him distancing Himself, cutting us off, canceling us.
But on the cross, God comes closer—becomes our evil and sin, even. Throughout Scripture, we see God leaning in and asking questions:
Where are you?
Where is your brother?
Has no one condemned you?
Do you love me?
Not instead of judging evil, but as part of it.
He doesn’t shame; He lets the light, His very being, dispel the darkness. He doesn’t cast us out; on the contrary, He draws closer so that the enemy may be cast out (John 12:31).
If we are cast out as well, it is because we choose the enemy over God, because we choose to be cast away along with the evil, not because God chooses to cast us away. In fact, Jesus seems to indicate that those who play judge are the ones cast into outer darkness—by their own doing and choosing (Matthew 18:21-35)! All He does is honor their choices.
The Paradox of God’s Judgment
The cross is where judgment and mercy meet, even kiss. Yet, paradoxically, in drawing closer, entering in—becoming, even—a clear distinction is made between good and evil. In the union, the stark contrast is finally clear. But the defeat of shame, sin, and death is ultimately a victory of love and truth. The distinction is made utterly apparent by the ghastly yet bewilderingly beautiful union between the two things that cannot meet except in Christ crucified.
Somehow, in the very union, in the very fusion of the highest love, beauty, and honor, and the lowest ugliness, hatred, sin, and shame, that’s how sin, shame, and evil are defeated. That’s how they’re judged. Darkness is dispelled by light. Death is swallowed up by life, hate is swallowed up by love, shame is swallowed up by vulnerability, intimacy, honor, and ultimately the covering of God’s righteousness. It is not in God turning away from evil that the evil is cast out; it is precisely God’s steady, relentless gaze that casts the evil out.
When We Judge, We Despise the Cross
Why do we distance and analyze? Why do we separate? Does the head think it can protect the heart by doing so? Does the head look at the shame and horror of the cross and try to figure out any way it can to resist going there, while the heart is irresistibly drawn to the dual horror and beauty, the dual loss and victory, the dual shame and glory, like a magnet?
And is the reverse not also true? The heart struggles, kicks, and screams, while the head gently but firmly “sets its face like flint” (Luke 9:51)? Perhaps the head and the heart each have their own ways of going to the cross at the end of the day. Which is why they must enter into conversation to be willing to go there. And the Holy Spirit is the Interpreter between the head and the heart.
As Above, So Below; As Without, So Within
The same measure we use on others is also applied to us (Matthew 7:2). When we look on the worst parts of us, we feel unbearable shame—so the response, for many of us, is to not look at those shameful parts—to either deny that they exist, or to justify them (to lie). If we starve the parts of us that we’re ashamed of, if we separate from and ignore them, do they grow weak, even if perhaps they never quite die? And what does it even look like to starve them? Is the goal even for them to die, or to transform? Or, somehow, paradoxically, is it both?
Do the least lovable parts of us actually just need nurture to transform? Do we just let the light in—God’s steady, relentless gaze—rather than trying to beat up on the darkness? Do we starve them of alcohol and candy while at the same time training them to enjoy whole foods?
What if, instead, we draw near to them, love them, and ask them questions—just like Abba did with Adam and Eve in Genesis 3, and just like Jesus did with Peter in John 21:15?
