Torn Out of Context – The Most Misunderstood Words of Jesus

Particularly often cited is Jesus' statement: “Judge not, that you be not judged” (Matthew 7:1). Hardly any statement is invoked more frequently in social and moral debates. It is often taken to mean that no one may judge the behavior of another person, especially regarding their way of life. Moral judgments are then considered fundamentally un-Christian. But that is exactly not what Jesus says. Just a few verses later, He urges his disciples to beware of false prophets: “By their fruits you will know them” (Matthew 7:16). Such a distinction necessarily presupposes a judgment. Jesus speaks even more clearly in the Gospel of John: “Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment” (John 7:24). Jesus does not forbid all moral assessment. He forbids self-righteous judging, which condemns the other without recognizing one's own guilt. The context makes this clear. Christ does not call on his disciples to ignore the speck in their brother's eye. He demands that they first remove the beam from their own eye. Only then should they help their neighbor (Matthew 7:3–5). The goal, then, is not indifference toward good and evil, or their relativization, but humility as the precondition for a just judgment. For only humility keeps a person from putting themselves in God's place. Behavior can be judged, because it is visible and can be measured against the standards of the Gospel. The human heart, however, remains reserved to God alone. Only He knows the innermost motives, the history of a person, and the degree of their personal responsibility. Therefore, Christ does not forbid judgment about good and evil, but the presumption of passing final judgment on the person themselves. The distinction between truth and error remains; the final judgment on the person belongs to God alone.

A similar misunderstanding appears in the story of the woman caught in adultery. When Jesus says, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (John 8:7), this is often taken as a rejection of all moral judgment. But the decisive conclusion of the encounter is frequently overlooked. After the accusers have left, Christ says, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin anymore” (John 8:11). Jesus protects the woman from the self-righteous condemnation of her accusers. At the same time, He calls her behavior sin and calls her to conversion. And this is decisive. His mercy consists precisely in giving the sinner a new beginning. But together with the condemnation of the sin itself. Christ neither approved of the sin nor rejected the sinner. He heals by uniting truth and mercy.

Among the most difficult sayings of Jesus is His word: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Matt 10:34). At first glance, this seems to contradict everything the Gospel says about Christ. Did not the angels proclaim peace on earth at His birth (Luke 2:14)? Does not Jesus call peacemakers blessed (Matt 5:9)? The answer, of course, lies in the context. Jesus is not speaking here of a physical sword. It is the sword of decision. His message separates truth and error, faith and unbelief. Whoever follows Christ will not infrequently encounter resistance – sometimes even within their own family. This is precisely what Jesus describes in what follows (Matt 10:35–36). The sword stands for the division that can arise when people react differently to His message. Not everyone accepts the truth. Nevertheless, the peace of Christ must never be bought at the cost of truth. A peace that separates man from God is no true peace. The Gospel calls for reconciliation with God. But as has been said, where this reconciliation is rejected, contradiction unfortunately also arises.

Equally challenging are the words of Jesus about family: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me” (Matt 10:37). Even more sharply put: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters, yes, even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26). Without knowledge of biblical usage, these verses seem more than strange. But Jesus is by no means calling for contempt toward one's own parents. He Himself confirms the fourth commandment and rebukes those who evade their responsibility toward their parents (Mark 7:9–13). In Semitic usage, contrasts are often deliberately sharpened in order to express an order of priority. The word “hate” (שָׂנֵא (śānēʾ) or μισεῖ (misei)) can mean to place someone second in comparison to someone higher. This very usage is already found in the Old Testament. Thus it is said of Jacob that he loved Rachel and “hated” Leah (Gen 29:30–31). What is clearly meant is not hatred in the modern sense, but that Leah was placed second to Rachel. This is also what Jesus is doing here. He does not demand enmity toward one's own family. Rather, He makes clear that following God takes precedence over every other bond. Jesus' demand is therefore directed against any order in which even the closest human relationships take the place of God. Only when God receives the first place do all other relationships find their rightful order and their true meaning. Thomas Aquinas explains that God, as the highest good, must be loved above all things. But this highest love does not destroy human bonds. On the contrary: it orders them: “Therefore God must be loved first of all, as the cause of happiness; the neighbor, as sharing with us in happiness” (Summa Theologiae, II–II, q. 26, a. 2). Whoever loves God above all things also learns to love father, mother, spouse, and children rightly, because God “is everywhere the same” (Summa Theologiae, II–II, q. 26, a. 2). Love of God preserves one from making the family the ultimate standard of life.

In this context, love of enemies is just as often misunderstood: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt 5:44). Some see in this a call to accept every injustice in silence or to renounce truth. But Jesus Himself shows that love of enemies means something else. He loves His opponents, but He calls their hypocrisy by name (Matt 23:13). He forgives His executioners on the cross and at the same time proclaims the truth without compromise (Luke 23:34). Love of enemies means wishing salvation even to the enemy and not letting oneself be governed by hatred even where injustice is being done.

Finally, the exhortation to turn the other cheek is also among the most misunderstood words of Jesus: “Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other one to him as well” (Matthew 5:39). It is often concluded from this that Christians must accept every form of violence or injustice without protest. But Jesus’ own behavior shows otherwise. When a servant of the high priest strikes him, Jesus does not silently turn the other cheek. He answers: “If I have spoken wrongly, testify to the wrong; but if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?” (John 18:23). Christ renounces retaliation, not truth. He meets injustice without hatred, but also without consent. Jesus therefore calls his disciples to a different attitude toward evil. Wrongdoing may be named and opposed. The Christian is not to repay evil with evil, but to overcome evil with good (Romans 12:21).

All these examples lead to the same insight. The words of Jesus lose their meaning when they are torn out of context. If, however, one reads them in the light of the whole Gospel, a remarkably clear picture emerges. Christ calls neither to arbitrariness nor to harshness. He unites mercy with truth, love with justice, and peace with fidelity to God. His words remain challenging even after two thousand years. For they invite us to become the person God created us to be.

debradeka-jesus-7220256_1920 Pixabay

Hearing only what we want to hear?

We live in an age that loves brevity—even when it comes to quotations. A single sentence is often enough to justify an opinion or end a discussion. But Christ cannot be reduced to a calendar saying. If we pick out only the words that fit our own ideas, we will inevitably create a Jesus in our own image—a Christ who never contradicts, never demands, and never calls to conversion.

Yet such a Jesus does not meet us in the Gospels.

The real Christ comforts the broken, but He shakes the self-righteous. He forgives sins, yet He also calls them by name. He grants peace, but at the same time demands a decision for the truth. His love is boundless precisely because it does not leave man in his passivity, relativity, and untruth.

The words of Jesus have not changed. What has changed are people, their language, and their ideas. Precisely for this reason there is a danger that we read our own thoughts into the Gospel instead of allowing ourselves to be corrected by Christ himself.

For is everyone truly willing to let Jesus speak in his entirety—even where He contradicts our convictions, questions our habits, or shakes our comfort? Perhaps the words of Jesus are so often misunderstood because they challenge not only our understanding. They demand something harder: that we let ourselves be changed by them.