A story tells of gossip that circulated in a neighborhood after a resident observed that the milkman went inside a certain house and stayed a rather long time every day. The gossips concluded something of an immoral nature must be transpiring.
After much maligning of reputation had occurred, truth emerged: the milkman and the woman were brother and sister. He scheduled delivery at her house last on his route so they could visit; she prepared breakfast for him.
The fact that the story has several versions drives home the point that "facts" sometimes become distorted as they're repeated. In this instance, some people who heard the original story put their own spin on it. One version says that the milkman was the woman's father, another that the daily visits with his sister helped the milkman cope with grief after the death of his wife.
Judging others is always risky. In fact, it's an activity that ought to be avoided except by those who are commissioned to judge. Anyone who has been unfairly judged knows it is an emotionally painful experience. It is easy to see or hear something and then arrive at a wrong conclusion. Things are not always as they appear.
Perhaps most wearing are people who pass judgment on others. Some people are quick to judge others' motives: why a wife and mother works outside the home, for example, or why a husband doesn't hold down a full-time job, a young man hasn't served a mission, a middle-aged man or woman has never married, or why a couple don't have children — or why they have only one or two.
Answers to these types of questions are of no concern to anyone except the individuals involved, the Lord and, in some cases, the individuals' priesthood leaders.
The Church of Jesus Christ and its organizational structure provide the ideal forum for lifting people. Taken seriously is Paul's great epistle on faith, hope and charity — the latter of which has been defined as the pure love of Christ. Paul wrote to the Corinthians:
"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.
"And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. . . .
"And now abideth faith, hope, charity these three; but the greatest of these is charity" (1 Corinthians 13:1-2, 13).
The greatest of all Christian virtues, charity makes no room for gossip, finding fault or judging others according to our often fallible measuring rods. Instead, charity is seated in what the Savior proclaimed to be the second great commandment: "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" (Mark 12:31).
If we truly love our neighbor, would we spread rumors, repeat gossip or stand in judgment of him or her, or speculate about personal lives and decisions? No. We would never do anything related to unkindness. If we love our neighbor as we love ourselves or members of our own family, would we rush to share news indicative of some transgression or outright sin? No. If we truly regard our neighbor as our brother or sister, we would want no part in broadcasting his or her failings.
The next time we hear "news" that isn't favorable about another person, let's take a moment to think before repeating it and ask, "Is this of the nature that I'd want people saying about me?"
Thomas Brecken's poem says so much:
Not understood. The secret springs of action,
Which lie beneath the surface and the snow,
Are disregarded; with self-satisfaction
We judge our neighbors as they often go,
Not understood.
O God, that men would see a little clearer,
Or judge less harshly where they cannot see!
O God, that men would draw a little nearer
To one another! They'd be nearer Thee
And understood."