Clear Vision

We have spent 2 months already walking through Jesus’s famous sermon on the mount, in our series called “upside down” and we’ve still got a ways to go.

But if you are new, don’t worry. You won’t be lost I promise. Jesus has been spending his time helping us to understand that the human heart needs to be transformed or turned upside down so that our lives and our world can experience the healing offered to us through God’s plan and will for us.

So we turn our attention today to the beginning of Matthew Chapter 7 — which is the beginning of the final chapter of Jesus’s sermon.

Matthew 7:1–12 NRSV

“Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while 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 neighbor’s eye. “Do not give what is holy to dogs; and do not throw your pearls before swine, or they will trample them under foot and turn and maul you. “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him! “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets.

I need to confess something to you.

I love driving at night but i have not been particularly gifted for it to be easy.

Maybe you can sympathize with me.

It’s not easy because I have astigmatisms.

Plural.

Which means headlights don’t look like headlights. They look like exploding starbursts. Every streetlight blooms into a glowing halo like I’m driving through a sci-fi movie. And rain? Add rain and I’m basically navigating by prayer and vibes.

And here’s the humbling part — even with corrective lenses, it’s not perfect.

Glasses help. Contacts help.

But the distortion never fully disappears.

So I lean forward. I squint. I tilt my head. I slow down more than everyone else thinks is necessary. Turn the music down like that does anything.

And if you ever ride with me at night, you will learn that I suddenly become extremely invested in how bright other people’s headlights are.

I have opinions.

Strong opinions.

“Does that Ram truck really need stadium lighting?”

Which is ironic.

Because the problem isn’t their headlights.

It’s my eyes.

And that’s what makes Jesus’ words in Matthew 7 so unsettling.

“Do not judge, so that you may not be judged… Why do you see the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own?”

It’s exaggerated. Almost comedic.

A person with a plank sticking out of their face offering vision advice.

But it lands because we all know what it feels like to assume the glare is out there… when part of the distortion is in here.

If you zoom out, this whole section — 7:1 through 12 — is not disconnected wisdom sayings.

It’s one movement about vision.

It begins with judgment. Moves to discernment. Shifts to prayer — ask, seek, knock. And lands in the Golden Rule.

And underneath all of it is a single question:

What are you seeing through?

Now let’s clarify something.

When Jesus says, “Do not judge,” he is not asking us to abandon discernment.

The word he uses — krinō — means to evaluate, to distinguish, to render judgment.

But here’s the thing:

The Bible consistently calls us to wisdom. And part of wisdom is developing and using the moral clarity that comes from evaluation and distinguishing. Just a few verses later Jesus will say to beware of false prophets. That requires moral clarity, which does in fact include some form of judgment.

So Jesus, in one of our favorite sayings, is not eliminating judgment.

He is confronting distortion the distortion of judgment that we always seem to slide into.

He is exposing the posture of superiority.

The instinct to sit in the judge’s chair rather than beside someone with grace.

“With the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

That’s courtroom language.

Jesus is not condemning discernment.

He is condemning condemnation.

Not clarity — but self-justifying clarity.

The problem is not that you see a speck, the issues with another.

The problem is forgetting you have a log — your own mess to deal with before you start looking down on someone else’s faults.

And here’s where this connects to everything we’ve been talking about in this series.

Last week Jesus talked about treasure and trust.

Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

What he was talking about was that whatever it is that we place our ultimate security in becomes our master. So if it’s anything other than God, we stand in a place of deep confusion and concern.

If your security is fragile, your vision becomes defensive.

If your stability depends on being right, then disagreement feels threatening.

If your identity depends on moral performance, then other people’s flaws become opportunities to steady yourself.

Judgment can become a stabilizer.

Correcting others can feel like control.

And when we’re anxious, superiority can feel safe.

But it doesn’t clear vision.

It distorts it further.

“First take the log out of your own eye.”

Notice that word — first.

Jesus assumes you will see the flaws in others

Discernment remains.

But clarity begins with confession.

Clear vision begins with confession.

That’s the line.

Clear vision begins with confession.

And this is why this text belongs in Lent.

Lent is not the season of fixing other people.

It is the season of allowing God to examine us.

It is the season where we voluntarily step out of the judge’s seat and back into the posture of repentance.

Where we admit:

Maybe my fear has sharpened into harshness. Maybe my insecurity has become criticism. Maybe my exhaustion has turned into impatience. Maybe my need to be right is actually a need to feel safe.

Repentance is not humiliation.

It is clarity.

It is letting the Spirit clean the windshield.

Not so we can see others more harshly.

But so we can see them more truthfully.

And in this we are given the gift of discernment, which allows us to choose when and where it is appropriate for us to expend our energy.

This whole talk of giving what is holy to dogs or giving pearls to pigs is one way that Jesus is teaching us to pause. Not every battle is yours to fight. You are not responsible for fixing the world, for changing every mind. Sometimes the best thing you can do is just pause, and allow God to redirect your gaze while God works in the hearts of those whom you disagree with.

After all of this, Jesus says something that feels almost like a shift in tone:

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened.”

That is not random.

It is the foundation of mercy.

Because if the Father is generous… if you are already secure in divine love… if you are not standing before God trying to justify yourself…

If you are living each moment of your life like God has given you an extraordinary gift called grace,

Then you don’t need to establish your worth by measuring others.

Trust in God’s love for you clears your vision.

Security in knowing that God has already deemed you worthy of love softens your posture towards others.

And when your life is steady in God’s care, you can afford to repent.

You can afford to soften.

You can afford to see clearly.

Which is why this whole section ends with the Golden Rule.

“In everything, do to others as you would have them do to you.”

That is not sentimental.

It is the fruit of clear vision.

When you know you stand under mercy, you extend mercy.

When you know you are forgiven, you forgive.

When you know your identity is secure, you no longer need to diminish someone else to feel stable.

And here is the quiet good news underneath this entire passage.

Jesus does not say:

“Stop judging or else.”

He says:

Let me help you see clearly.

And clear vision begins not with condemnation…

but with confession.

So maybe this week the practice is simple.

Before you critique, confess.

Before you react, reflect.

Before you assume the glare is out there…

ask what might be happening in here.

Because beneath all our distortions, beneath all our defensiveness, beneath all our anxious measuring…

there is a Father who gives good gifts.

And you are secure enough in that love to see clearly.

Amen.