The Beam in My Eye
"Judge not, that ye be not judged.
For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.
And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?
Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?
Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.
Matthew 7:1‑5 KJV
The Parable of the Mote and the Beam by Domenico Fetti c.1619
A Few Words on Judgement - Tuesday Morning
I think I've spent a lot of the last year considering the nature of judgement
perhaps in all my time spent alone in reading,
(our body of literature itself being a product of the mystical body of humanity)
I am inclined to view those rhythms called life
through the lens of those divine laws and virtues that whirl about,
pitching our souls in every possible direction,
assuming some position deep within the centre of every possible action we take or word we speak.
Laws and virtues that bear the name at the beginning and end of all things.
Perhaps it weighs so heavy on me as I find myself being made to walk the same grounds I have
caused other to walk in the past, who knows.
I guess the lesson there is to sow only the seeds of love before the feet of others,
and you'll find your own path strewn with heavenly fauna.
Still, this doesn't mean one may halt judgement entirely,
because awareness of self is at once the sweetest and bitterest fruit one can taste.
and in that bite, you will find the seeds of judgement.
I sometimes wonder,
if judgement looks the same to every age,
but every person in every age is quick to say,
Oh how all has changed,
it would seem then that it is the forms to which we find ourselves applying judgement are in constant flux,
and in a world entirely subsumed in the forceful elements of image,
having arguably cast aside some of the most fruitful forms of substance,
the eye of judegment reigns supreme,
and what I see I don't like
ever newer forms of information distribution and communication designed to
manipulate and inundate the senses of humanity,
systems of oppression so silent
that my judging eye is quick to shout
that these forms are not for our benefit
but for the benefit of a few
and still some people will think youre joking when you say
we have our own Babylonian kings,
and that the beam in your eye is growing every day
and the beam is festering with a nauseating mould,
and all you want to do is have it excavated,
but you cant and the beam has grown so large,
that you might need a crew of twelve and a half men to remove it,
and you often see that snapping judgement bounce about
from one person to the next,
and when it hits you, you wish to absorb it in the cleansing
rivers of forgiveness, but sometimes you can't,
you see, this here is a tale as old as time,
the eternal and spontaneous story of the heart,
that finds it falling to the dust, or rising to the light.
I know I wish to rise.
If we are cursed to bear this judging eye,
let the source of this judgement be in mourning,
mourning the image of the fall that we find sprawled across the earth,
mourning for those who suffer at the hands of those who spite life and redemption,
the people who see it fit to cast earthly judgement
on the fates of the living, in the name of that fruitless gain called power
let it also be known that the people who walk those paths gain nothing
the world they walk in knows little but the damning trumpets of treachery and hate
and that no earthly reward
will ever compares to love and loyal companionship
which bears no judgement