Orthodoxy: Its Truths And Errors

by James Freeman Clarke

§ 9. When Christ's Judgment takes Place.

Nevertheless, there is a more important question to be answered in relation to the time of judgment. When is the judgment? For it may be thought, from what we have said, that we consider judgment as taking place only in this world. But such is not the fact. Christ's judgments take place at Christ's coming, whether here or hereafter. Whenever Christ comes, he comes to judge. His first coming, in Judea, was a judgment; and he said, “Now is the judgment of the world.” His coming judged all those who were near him; revealed the state of their minds and hearts; showed them what they were. Wherever he went, men arranged themselves at once according to their real characters, and the thoughts of many hearts were revealed.

It is true that people at that day did not understand that they were thus condemning themselves. They did not know that the awful judgment of God was being pronounced upon them; that they were standing before his bar in the presence of angels. They did not know that the day of judgment had come, and that they were giving an account of every idle word even then. But so it was. When they scoffed at Jesus and said, “He is a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber,” they may have forgotten their words almost before they left their mouths. But there they stand, recorded against them [pg 344] forever—an everlasting proof of their blindness of mind and their hardness of heart. When the penitent woman brought the ointment and anointed the feet of Jesus, and bathed them with her tears, little did she think that it was her day of judgment also, and that the approving sentence of her act would be read by angels in heaven and countless myriads on earth. None of them knew that it was a judgment then; but it was so.

But was that the only judgment? No; for whenever Jesus comes, he comes to judge; and since that, his first coming, he has come again and again to individuals and to the world, and every coming has been a new judgment on the state of the human mind and heart. It has therefore been well said, that the history of the world is the judgment of the world. And it is always true that this judgment is not understood when it is pronounced, but is seen and recognized afterwards. It is so with individuals; it is so with communities. Who is there who, in looking back over his past life, does not witness many an hour in which the truth has come to him, and he refused to admit it, and so sentenced himself to receive a lie? in which he has had opportunities of improvement, opportunities of doing good, and has refused to accept them, and so the talent has been taken from him and given to another. This is the judgment—that light has come into the world, and we have chosen darkness. At the time we did not know it: blinded by prejudice, heated by passion, we rushed recklessly on. But sooner or later comes the calm hour of recollection, and we see ourselves as we are.

But is this judgment which takes place in this world the only one? It is unreasonable to think so. There are, in fact, two extreme views on this subject. The views of those who say that all judgment is in this life, and the views of those who say that no judgment is in this life. The New Testament teaches that we are judged here, and that we are also judged hereafter. The coming of Christ is here, and [pg 345] also hereafter; and the judgment which commenced with his first coming will not be completed till all of us stand before the judgment seat to give an account of the deeds done in the body, whether they be good or evil. “It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment.” There is a judgment in this life, and another to come. But those will be best prepared for that future judgment who understand the present judgment. Here is an example of the nature of the judgments which take place in this world.

In the year 1633, an old man was brought before the Court of the Inquisition, consisting of seven cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church, to hear a sentence and to pronounce a recantation. The crime he had committed was the publication of a book in the form of a dialogue, maintaining that the sun stood still, and that the earth moved; which proposition these holy cardinals pronounced to be absurd, false in philosophy, and formally heretical, seeing that it was expressly contrary to Holy Scripture. Whereupon they call upon him to abjure, execrate, and detest these errors and heresies; prohibiting his book and condemning him to confinement, with the penance of reciting once a week, for three years, the seven penitential psalms. And thereupon, this man, Galileo Galilei, of the age of seventy, on his knees, with his hands on the Gospels, abjures his opinion.

These seven cardinals thought that they were pronouncing sentence on Galileo and on the Copernican system. But, in reality, they pronounced sentence on themselves and their own church. They put it upon record forever, that the Roman Catholic Church, claiming to be infallible in matters of faith, had, by its highest judicature, declared the Copernican system a heresy, and thus declared its own claim to infallibility a lie. This was the condemnation—that light had come into the world, and they chose darkness rather than light.

So it is whenever a new truth comes into the world: it [pg 346] attracts the free-minded, the lovers of truth; it repels those bound by interest or passion. Those who believe, with Solomon, that a living dog is better than a dead lion, leave behind them the past, and with open eyes go forward, leaving the dead to bury the dead. Those who change the maxim, and love a dead dog more than a living lion, turn their backs to the east and to the rising sun, and hug their much-loved errors to their hearts. So the truth stands in their midst, awful in its beauty, and judges them—sending away its foes, drawing its friends to its embrace.

But it is not in abstract truth, whether of science or theology, that Christ comes to us now. It is in the truth in its concrete shape, embodied in the reforms which overthrow evil, in the great moral improvements which do away with the sin and woe of the world. Every new cause of this sort parts the sheep from the goats, and causes the thoughts of many hearts to be revealed. We do not mean to assert that all who sympathize with any particular reformatory measures, or any particular reformatory party, are on the side of Christ, and all who disapprove these measures, or this party, are against him. Such an assertion would be the sign of the narrowest bigotry or the most foolish ignorance of human nature. But we mean to say, that when any great human and moral movement comes to rouse men's minds to a great evil—such as the evil of war, slavery, intemperance, licentiousness, popular ignorance, pauperism, infidelity, it is impossible for good men not to take an interest in it, and in their own way to aid it. If men neglect and ridicule such movements, find fault with all that is done, and do nothing themselves, they show thereby that they do not care so much for their brother's happiness as for their own ease and comfort. In this way it becomes true that

“Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight,

Parts the goats upon the left hand, parts the sheep upon the right,

And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and the light.”

We read in the book of Acts, that after Paul and Barnabas had preached the gospel to the Jews in Antioch, the Gentiles were interested also, and great multitudes came together to hear the word of God. But when the Jews saw the multitudes, they were filled with envy, and contradicted Paul and blasphemed. Then Paul and Barnabas waxed bold, and said, “It was necessary that the word of God should be first preached to you; but since you put it from you, and judge yourselves unworthy of eternal life, lo, we turn to the Gentiles.” A hard judgment for a man to pronounce on himself—that he is not worthy of eternal life!

But do we not often all do the same? Christ comes to us in the form of a new truth, which will correct our errors and enlarge our hearts. But loving our own little creed better than the truth, we reject it without examination, and so judge ourselves unworthy of the light, strength, and peace it might bestow. Christ comes again in some opportunity of usefulness to our neighbor. But loving our own selfish ease, we excuse ourselves, and so judge ourselves unworthy of the happiness we should enjoy in doing the kind action. He comes in some deep conviction, calling us to a new life. We feel that we ought to leave our frivolity, and live for God and eternity—live for what is real and permanent. But we stifle these convictions, and go back to our old lives, and so judge that we are not worthy to become the friends and fellow-workers of Jesus, and companions of the pure and good. The great feast is ready, and the invitation is sent to us, and we, with one consent, begin to make excuse. Do we think that in that moment we are standing before the judgment seat of God, and pronouncing sentence on ourselves? It is our own heart that condemns us, and God, and Christ, and the everlasting truth of things must confirm the sentence.