The Righteous Judgment of the Log-Handler Text: Matthew 7:1-5
Introduction: The World's Favorite Verse
There is perhaps no verse in all of Scripture more beloved by the ungodly than "Judge not." It is the great charter of relativism, the supreme get-out-of-jail-free card for every libertine, heretic, and rebel who wants to silence the clear testimony of God's law. They rip it from its context, wave it like a flag of truce, and declare all moral discourse to be out of bounds. In their hands, "Judge not" means "You are not allowed to say that what I am doing is wrong." It is the great silencer. It is the verse they use to judge the judgers. The irony is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Our age is allergic to discrimination, which is simply another word for discernment. We have been taught that the highest virtue is a kind of gelatinous, indiscriminate acceptance of everything, except, of course, for those who hold to biblical standards of right and wrong. For them, there is no mercy. The tolerance of the tolerant is a very thin veneer. Scratch it, and you find a seething intolerance for the law of God.
But this passage is not a command to switch off our brains. It is not an injunction to abandon all standards. In fact, just a few verses later, Jesus will command us to identify dogs, swine, and false prophets (Matt. 7:6, 15). How can we possibly do that without making a judgment? It is impossible. So, Jesus is not forbidding all judgment. He is forbidding a particular kind of judgment. He is forbidding hypocritical, proud, self-righteous, and unmerciful judgment. He is teaching us that before we can ever speak a word of correction to another, we must first submit ourselves to the searing, purifying judgment of God. This passage is not a prohibition of judgment, but rather a set of instructions on how to do it right.
The world wants to use this text to create a moral fog where no one can see anything clearly. Jesus uses this text to teach us how to perform delicate eye surgery. The world wants to abolish the judge's bench. Jesus wants to qualify the judges. And the first qualification is that you have stood before the bench yourself and have been thoroughly searched.
The Text
"Do not judge, so that you will not be judged. For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with what measure you measure, it will be measured to you. And why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye."
(Matthew 7:1-5 LSB)
The Law of Reciprocity (v. 1-2)
We begin with the famous prohibition and its underlying principle.
"Do not judge, so that you will not be judged. For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with what measure you measure, it will be measured to you." (Matthew 7:1-2)
The Lord Jesus establishes a foundational principle of His kingdom: the law of reciprocity. The standard you apply to others is the standard that will be applied to you. This is not talking about our final justification before God. For the believer, that judgment is past. We have been declared righteous in Christ, and there is now no condemnation for us (Romans 8:1). Rather, this refers to the ongoing, familial judgments within the covenant community and the consequential judgments of God in this life.
If you are a harsh, merciless, and unforgiving critic of others, you are inviting the same treatment. If you are constantly finding fault, always assuming the worst, and delighting in the exposure of other people's sins, then you are setting the terms of your own trial. James says it plainly: "For judgment is without mercy to the one who has shown no mercy" (James 2:13). This is a terrifying warning. The person who deals in condemnation as his stock-in-trade is stockpiling condemnation for himself.
The verb "judge" here carries the sense of condemnation, of passing a final, damning sentence. It is the spirit of the Pharisee who looks at the tax collector and says, "God, I thank you that I am not like other men" (Luke 18:11). This is the kind of judging that is forbidden: the kind that comes from a heart that has forgotten its own desperate need for grace. It is the judgment that sets itself up as the standard, that refuses to be measured by the same yardstick it applies to others.
So the command is not "do not discern," or "do not evaluate." The command is "do not be a condemning person." Do not be the kind of person whose default setting is criticism. Why? Because God will deal with you on your own terms. If you want grace, you must give grace. If you want mercy, you must be merciful. The measure you use will be measured back to you. This is a sober call to humility. It forces us to ask: "If God were to judge me by the same standard I use on my brother, how would I fare?"
The Parable of the Ocular Lumber (v. 3-4)
Jesus now illustrates this principle with a brilliant and humorous image.
"And why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and behold, the log is in your own eye?" (Matthew 7:3-4 LSB)
The imagery is intentionally absurd. A man with a telephone pole sticking out of his eye socket is trying to perform delicate surgery on his brother's eye to remove a tiny splinter. It is a picture of a man who is utterly blind to his own catastrophic moral failure while being keenly, microscopically aware of the minor faults of others. He is an expert on splinters and a complete amateur on logs, especially his own.
The "speck" represents a small, minor fault. The "log" or "plank" represents a massive, blinding sin. The hypocrite is the man who majors on the minors in others, while minoring on the majors in himself. He is outraged by his brother's white lie but completely at ease with his own secret lust. He is incensed by a friend's gossip but blind to his own bitter envy. His moral vision is grotesquely distorted. He sees the sins of others through a magnifying glass and his own sins through the wrong end of a telescope, if he sees them at all.
Notice the question: "Why do you look...?" This gets to the motive. The hypocrite is a fault-finder by profession. He is on the hunt for specks. He enjoys it. It makes him feel righteous. By focusing on the splinter in his brother's eye, he can conveniently ignore the massive beam protruding from his own. His criticism of others is a smokescreen to hide his own unrepentant sin. He offers to help, "Let me take the speck out of your eye," but his offer is a fraud. He is not motivated by love for his brother; he is motivated by pride. He wants to play the hero, the spiritual expert, the one who has it all together. But his own condition makes him utterly unqualified to help anyone.
The Prerequisite for Righteous Judgment (v. 5)
Jesus concludes not by forbidding the surgery, but by establishing the proper order for it.
"You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye." (Matthew 7:5 LSB)
The Lord's diagnosis is blunt: "You hypocrite." A hypocrite is an actor, someone playing a role. This man is playing the role of a righteous judge, but it is a sham. The first step toward true righteousness is to drop the act and deal with your own sin. "First take the log out of your own eye."
This is the call to repentance. This is the prerequisite for all true ministry. You cannot help another person with their sin until you have first gotten honest about your own. You must feel the weight of your own log. You must confess it, you must hate it, and you must, by the grace of God, gouge it out. This is not a call to sinless perfection. It is a call to be a repentant sinner. The man qualified to help his brother with a speck is not the man who has no sin, but the man who is actively and honestly at war with his own sin, starting with the biggest ones.
And notice the result. When you deal with your own log, something happens to your vision. "Then you will see clearly." The log was blinding you. Your pride, your self-righteousness, your unconfessed sin made it impossible for you to see straight. But repentance restores your spiritual sight. You can now see your brother's speck for what it is. You can see it with humility, because you know what a log feels like. You can see it with compassion, because you know the grace you have received. You can see it with the goal of restoration, not condemnation.
This verse is a limited commission to judge. It does not say, "take the log out of your eye and then mind your own business." It says, "then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye." We have a responsibility to help our brothers and sisters in Christ. The goal is not to leave the speck in, but to take it out. But we can only do so after we have dealt with our own, much larger issues. The best kind of accountability comes from fellow repentant sinners, not from self-righteous Pharisees.
Conclusion: From Condemnation to Restoration
So, what is the takeaway? Are we to judge or not? The answer is yes, but only after we have first judged ourselves in the light of God's Word. The world's mantra of "Judge not" is a lie that leaves everyone wallowing in their sin. It is a false peace, a cowardly refusal to love our neighbor enough to tell him the truth.
The Christian life, however, begins with a massive act of judgment. At the cross of Christ, God judged our sin in the person of His Son. Jesus took the log of our rebellion upon Himself. He who knew no sin was made to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). Because God has judged our sin in Christ, we are now free from condemnation. We are free to be honest about our own logs. We do not have to pretend anymore.
And because we have received such astonishing mercy, we are now equipped to extend that same mercy to others. The gospel transforms us from hypocritical critics into humble surgeons. It takes away our desire to condemn and replaces it with a desire to restore. We learn to approach our brother not with a gavel, but with a basin and a towel.
The sequence is crucial. First, look in the mirror of God's law and see the log in your own eye. Second, run to the cross and let the Great Physician remove it by His grace. Third, and only then, with clear eyes and a humble heart, turn to your brother and say, with all gentleness, "Friend, I know something of logs. Let me help you with that speck." This is the path of righteous judgment, the way of truth, and the foundation of all true Christian fellowship.