Who's to Judge? (Friday Devotional)

“The Lord judges the peoples; judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness and according to the integrity that is in me.”

- Psalm 7:8

There are some things we want God to do for us, and then there are those things we would rather he only do for other people. Lead me, guide me, empower me, encourage me, forgive me—all of these are prayers we’re quick to utter. Following the examples of countless prayers in the Bible, we look to God for that strength which is beyond our own means, expectantly hoping that from His grace He will give us what we lack. We long for the wisdom, mercy, and love of God to be made manifest in our lives, and so we rightfully do not hesitate to ask.

But while we are quick to appeal for God’s grace for ourselves, God’s justice is something we tend to only want for other people: rebuke him, judge her, punish them. When someone else steps out of line, we want to see righteousness more than restoration—we expect God to hand out the sort of divine discipline that keeps the scales weighted toward justice, and our prayers reflect that. But when we are the ones who falter, justice is the furthest thing from our minds.

So Psalm 7 makes for an uncomfortable reading experience, because the psalmist asks God to do something dangerous: “Judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness and according to the integrity that is in me.” Seeking refuge from God in the midst of persecution—one of those prayers that rolls off the tongue pretty quickly—the psalmist nevertheless has the humility to seek not only God’s grace for himself, but His justice. “If I have done this, if there is wrong on my hands,” he says in v. 3, then I want to see things set right. Not my will, but Yours be done.

Is that something you could pray? Are you so confident in your integrity that you would ask God to judge you based entirely upon it?

Most Christians, I suspect, would flee from such a prayer. Even those who pride themselves on their integrity would shudder to think how they would be judged apart from the righteousness freely given to them through faith in Christ. We are all imperfect, all sinners, and so none would ask to be held to God’s perfect standard of justice without the grace of God in Christ to bail us out.

And that recognition should change how you pray, not only for yourself, but for others. Instead of seeking grace when you stumble only to demand justice when others fall, remember that in Christ justice and grace are inextricably bound together. Rather than treating grace as a privilege extended to you alone, treat is as the good news it is, something to be extended to those otherwise condemned. Instead of responding to sinners with angry condemnation, follow Jesus’s example, responding with the assured compassion of one who knows grace’s power to save.

You would not wish judgment on yourself apart from Christ, so may you be slow to wish it upon others. Instead, may you lift up others—from your closest friends to your most bitter enemies—in prayers covered with grace, desiring and extending the same mercy to them which you desire for yourself. For truly, God’s grace is big enough for the both of you.