Do not judge, and you will not be judged?

As I attended my congregation’s new minister installation service earlier today, a reading of Luke caught my attention:

‘If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. (Luke 6:33-36)

‘Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you…’ (Luke 6:36-38)

The passage as a whole contains a paradox. Jesus acknowledges that it is a challenge to treat others well, even when they do not treat us well. Our own good treatment of other people is not always transformative — we cannot always expect that when we lend of ourselves, we will be fairly repaid.

Most people are tempted then to take the more cautious route. Rather than indiscriminately giving ourselves to others in loans of love/trust/help/etc., we instead become more careful lenders, giving only to those who seem likely to repay our good will. And we try to give only what we can afford to lose.

This attitude of caution makes sense to me. And I’m guessing it did to many others when Luke was written.

But in Luke, Jesus doesn’t leave it at that. He says, “love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return.” The phrase “expecting nothing in return” may also be read as “despairing of no one,” according to the New Revised Standard Version.

Why? Why should I give abundantly, even as I know that I will not receive it in return?

The second part of the passage (Luke 6:36-38) seems to offer an answer, depicting a more balanced universe. If we forgive, we will be forgiven. And at some moments in life, this too rings true — sometimes love seeds more love. (Although it’s worth noting that Jesus describes God as “kind to the ungrateful and the wicked,” so those who are spiteful and unmerciful receive love too!)

In short, while each line of the passage seems to ring true, there is conflict among them. Although I am not a follower of Jesus, I am fascinated by the paradox and want to unravel it. I want to know: how can it be that even though we don’t always have our good deeds (or our bad ones) reflected back to us, it still seems that the goodness of those deeds can improve our experience of the world?

I’m of two minds on the meaning of the passage. Part of me believes that violence and other forms of wrongdoing can take a considerable toll on a person’s health and wellbeing — a toll that doing good cannot erase. But another part of me wonders if striving to be and do good can in someway immunize us from the deepest erosion of our soul that might otherwise result from the onslaught of wrongdoing in the world. By striving to treat others with love, do we keep a fire burning in our soul that cannot be extinguished by the cruelty of others, but that keeps us warm and ready to receive love if and when it is returned?