Bread and Butter
4/16/98 Our Daily Bread
read Matthew 7:1-5
A small-town baker brought his butter from a local farmer. One day he weighed the butter and concluded that the farmer had been reducing the amount in the packages but charging the same. So the baker accused the farmer of fraud.
In court the judge asked the farmer, "Do you have measuring weights?"
"No sir," replied the farmer.
"How then do you manage to weigh the butter that you sell?"
The farmer answered, "When the baker began buying his butter from me, I thought I'd better get my bread from him. I have been using his 1-pound loaf as the weight for the butter I sell. If the weight of the butter is wrong, he has only himself to blame."
Making hasty, unjust judgements about others is sin. The Pharisees of Jesus' day seemed to be especially adept at this. They would try to elevate themselves by tearing down and slandering people's character. Not only is this a sign of pride and self-satisfaction, but it is certain that we will be judged in a similar manner. Jesus said, "With what judgement you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you." (Matthew 7:2)
What is the measure you use?
Don't be too hard on the person who sins,
For the yardstick you lay on another,
May someday be used as a measure for you;
Oh, be gracious and judge not, by brother!--------------------
THE FAULT WE SEE IN ANOTHER
MAY BE THE REFLECTION OF OUR OWN.
JUDGE NOT ACCORDING TO THE APPEARANCE...
JOHN 7:24
Overhung with maple, oak and birch, the Massabesic River gently winds through my New Hampshire hometown until it broadened by the dam in Auburn center. Here, local anglers rest against the massive granite wheel from an eighteenth-century gristmill as they watch their bobbers for jerky clues of pickerel and horned pout in the cola-colored depths. Only the most nimble fishermen venture out on the lip of the dam, close to the dark water, which cascades about three feet into the regional water supply, fishing is permitted but swimming is not.
One spring evening when I was about sixteen, as my parents and I watched television, our neighbors turned into our dirt driveway. Mom hurried out to greet them. Even before I reached the porch I could hear her normally soft voiced become agitated and high-pitched: "...Too early to go swimming yet! Even your shoes!..."
My brother Dennis, then about fourteen, sat drenched in the back of the pickup. Water dripped from his hair and squelched from his sneakers. He grinned and ate chocolate cake from a piece of waxed paper.
Oh, boy, I thought, you're in big trouble now. Since Dad worked for the water department, we figured he'd lose his job if we kids were ever caught swimming in the Massabesic.
Our neighbor ignored our grim reactions. His six-year old was soaked too. "Dennis just saved our little son." We stopped our critical chorus mid-breath. "Roger was trying to fish from the dam and slipped. We didn't know it happened, but Dennis was riding by on his bike and saw him fall under the waterfall. He jumped in and pulled him out. And all I have to give him is this cake."
Mom signed and smiled indulgently, and I gazed with bewildered respect at my brother. He just grinned and licked frosting off his fingers.
Heavenly Farther,let me always look for
the big picture while You do the judging.
Amen
from Daily Guideposts 1999, April 23