Men see the exterior; God alone sees the heart, and knows the inmost
thoughts of all. Our Blessed Father used to say that the soul of our
neighbour was that tree of the knowledge of good and evil which we are
forbidden to touch under pain of severe chastisement; because God has
reserved to Himself the judgment of each individual soul. _Who art thou_,
says Sacred Scripture, _who judgest thy brother?_ Knowest thou that
_wherein thou judgest another thou condemnest thyself_?[1]
Who has given thee the hardihood to take upon thyself the office of Him
Who has received from the Eternal Father all judgment? That is to say, all
power of judging in Heaven and on earth? He observed that a want of balance
of mind, very common among men, leads them to judge of what they do not
know, and not to judge of what they do know. They, as St. Jude declares,
_blaspheme in what they know not, and corrupt themselves in what
they know_.[2] They are blind to what passes in their own homes, but
preternaturally clear-sighted to all happening in the houses of others.
Now what is this that a man knows not at all? Surely, the heart; the secret
thoughts of his neighbour. And yet how eager is he to dip the fingers of
his curiosity in this covered dish reserved for the Great Master. And what
is it that a man knows best of all, or at least ought to know? Surely,
his own heart; his own secret thoughts. Nevertheless, he fears to enter
into himself, and to stand in his own presence as a criminal before his
judge. He dreads above aught besides the implacable tribunal of his own
conscience, itself alone more surely convicting than a thousand witnesses.
Our Blessed Father pictures very vividly this kind of injustice in his
Philothea, where he says: "It is equally necessary in order to escape being
judged that we both judge ourselves, and that we refrain from judging
others. Our Lord forbids the latter[3] and His Apostle commands the former.
If we would judge ourselves we should not be judged.[4] Our way is the very
reverse. What is forbidden to us we are continually doing. Judging our
neighbour on all possible occasions, and what is commanded us, namely, to
judge ourselves, that the last thing we think of."[5]
"A certain woman" (Blessed Francis continued with a smile), "all her life
long had on principle done exactly the contrary to what her husband wanted
her to do. In the end she fell into a river and was drowned. Her husband
tried to recover the body, but was found fault with for going up the
stream, since she must, necessarily, float down with the current. 'And
do you really imagine,' he exclaimed, 'that even her dead body could do
anything else but contradict me?' We are, most of us, very like that
woman," said the Saint. "Yet it is written: _Judge not, and you shall not
be judged; condemn not, and you shall not be condemned._"[6]
How, then, you will say, is it lawful to have judges and courts of justice,
since man may not judge our neighbour? I answer this objection in Blessed
Francis' own words:
"But may we, then, under no circumstances judge our neighbour? Under no
circumstances whatever--for in a court of justice it is God, Philothea, not
man, who judges and pronounces sentence. It is true that He makes use of
the voice of the magistrate, but only to render His own sentence audible
to us. Earthly judges are His spokesmen and interpreters, nor ought they
to decide anything but as they have learnt from Him of Whom they are
the oracles. It is when they do otherwise, and follow the lead of their
own passions, that they, and not God, judge, and that consequently they
themselves will be judged. In fact, it is forbidden to men, _as_ men, to
judge others.[7] This is why Scripture gives the name of gods[8] to judges,
because when judging they hold the place of God, and Moses for that reason
is called the god of Pharaoh."[9]
You ask if we are forbidden to entertain doubts about our neighbour when
founded on good and strong reasons. I answer we are not so forbidden,
because to suspend judgment is not to judge, but only to take a step
towards it. We must, nevertheless, beware of being thereby hurried on
to form a hasty judgment, for that is the rock on which so many make
shipwreck; that is the flare of the torch in which so many thoughtless
moths singe their tiny wings.
In order that we may avoid this danger he gives us an excellent maxim, one
which is not only useful, but necessary to us. It is that, however many
aspects an action may have, the one we should dwell upon should be that
which is the best.
If it is impossible to excuse an action, we can at least modify our blame
of it by excusing the intention, or we may lay the blame on the violence
of the temptation, or impute it to ignorance, or to the being taken by
surprise, or to human weakness, so as at least to try to lessen the scandal
of it. If you are told that by doing this you are blessing the unrighteous
and seeking excuses for sin, you may reply that without either praising or
excusing his sin you can be merciful to the sinner.
You may add that judgment without mercy will be the lot of those who have
no pity for the misfortunes or the infirmities of their brother, and who
in him despise their own flesh. We all are brethren, all of one flesh.
In fact, as says our Blessed Father, those who look well after their own
consciences rarely fall into the sin of rash judgment. To judge rashly is
proper to slothful souls, which, because they never busy themselves with
their own concerns, have leisure to devote their energies to finding fault
with others.
An ancient writer expresses this well. Men who are curious in their
inquiries into the lives of others are mostly careless about correcting
their own faults. The virtuous man is like the sky, of which the stars are,
as it were, the eyes turned in upon itself.
[Footnote 1: Rom. ii. 1.]
[Footnote 2: St. Jude 10.]
[Footnote 3: St. Matt. vii. 1.]
[Footnote 4: 1 Cor. xi. 31.]
[Footnote 5: _The Devout Life_, Part iii. 28.]
[Footnote 6: St. Luke vi. 37.]
[Footnote 7: _The Devout Life_, Part iii. 28.]
[Footnote 8: Psalm lxxxi. 1, 6.]
[Footnote 9: Exod. vii. 1.]