THEOSISAugustine of Hippo
The Judgment of Christ
It is not uncommon for one to hear the phrase, “Judge me, O God,” and question its significance. While many might comfortably express, “May God forgive me” or “Have mercy on me, O God,” the idea of inviting divine judgment seems daunting. Often, this line appears in a responsive chant, initiated by the reader and echoed by the congregation. One might wonder if hearts would not be weighed down with trepidation at the thought of singing to God, “Judge me, O God.” Yet, the faithful do sing this line without fearing that the words of Holy Scripture will yield harm; they trust that their praises are well-placed. The psalm itself, however, provides clarity on the type of judgment it references: it is a judgment of reason rather than condemnation. The psalmist continues, “Judge me, O God, and judge my litigation.” Thus, in this context of judicial reasoning and the resolution of disputes, we are all called to stand before the judgment of Christ.
The Lord our God makes known His truths and enlightens us through His Scriptures regarding the concept of judgment. I encourage great caution in this matter. Judgment can sometimes be interpreted as punishment and other times as discrimination. In this framework, when judgment signifies discrimination, each of us must stand before the judgment seat of Christ, where we will receive recompense for our earthly deeds, whether they be good or evil. The process of separation serves to distinguish the righteous from the wicked. If judgment were always viewed in a negative light, the psalmist would not cry out, "Judge me, O God" (Psalms 42:1).
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When one hears the plea, "Judge me, O God," it often prompts reflection. Typically, a person might exclaim, "May God forgive me! Have mercy on me, O God!" So who is it that calls for divine judgment? At times, this line appears in a psalm as a refrain, pronounced by the reader while the congregation responds. Is it not natural for someone to feel apprehensive about uttering, "Judge me, O God"? Yet, the faithful celebrate this line without fearing they are invoking harm upon themselves through these sacred words. Even if their understanding lacks completeness, they believe it signifies something positive. The psalm itself does not leave the inquirer without further clarification; it continues, providing insight into the nature of judgment, which is one of separation rather than condemnation. The psalm states, "Judge me, O God," which implies, "And separate my case from those of the wicked" (cf. Ps. 42:1). Thus, in accordance with this understanding of separation, all of us will ultimately appear before the judgment seat of Christ (2 Cor. 5:10).
This psalm is succinct and meets the spiritual needs of its listeners without overly straining the hunger of those who fast. Let our spirits be nourished by this, our souls described as being cast down in this psalm, perhaps due to some affliction or, more likely, as a result of the hunger being felt. Fasting is a choice; hunger, however, is often a result of circumstances beyond our control. What hungers is the Church, the Body of Christ—this universal Man who encompasses all, with the Head above and members below. It is His voice we should recognize and become intimately familiar with throughout all the Psalms—expressing joy and sorrow, celebrating hope, and lamenting our present condition as if it were our own.
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Therefore, let us not linger too long on who is speaking here: may each of us embody a part of the Body of Christ, and He will speak through us.
“Judge me, O Lord, and separate my cause from the wicked people” (Psalm 42:1). I do not dread Your judgment, for I trust in Your mercy. The psalmist cries out, “Judge me, O God,” and yet, in this state of wandering, You do not yet distinguish my place from that of the weeds, as I must coexist with them until the harvest: You do not yet set apart the rain that falls on me from that which falls on them, nor my light from their darkness; please distinguish my cause. Let there be a clear difference between believers and non-believers. Our afflictions may be similar; however, our consciences differ, our sufferings align, yet our aspirations are not the same. The desires of the wicked will fade away, but in regard to the hopes of the righteous, we may doubt only if He who promised is uncertain. The object of our longings is He who gives the promise: He will offer Himself to us, having already given Himself to us; He will grant us His eternal life, just as He offered Himself to us in His physical form, in His mortality.
Furthermore, since endurance is required to hold firm until the harvest, there exists a distinction that does not imply division—after all, the tares are present among us but are not yet separated, yet the tares remain tares, and the grain is still grain, making them discernible. Therefore, a certain fortitude is essential, for which we must earnestly pray to the One who urges us to be strong, without whom we cannot possess any strength nor become what He commands us to be. O You who declared: “He that endureth to the end shall be saved” (Matthew 24:31), lest we mistakenly attribute our own strength to ourselves, the psalmist quickly adds: “For Thou, O God, art my strength: why hast Thou rejected me, and why do I walk in mourning, while my enemy oppresses me?”