#41. Romans 2:1 – The Hypocrisy of Tywin Lannister (Judgment Series, Part II)

Part II: The Conduct of Humanity

Brief note: The following article is a deeper meditation on Romans 2:1, using Game of Thrones to demonstrate the point. If you are not interested, there is nothing ‘worthwhile’ in this argument which requires the attention of the New Testament student. If you wish to skip to the next one, you won’t miss much!

Wherefore, defenseless are you, O man! everyone who is judging, for in what you are judging another, you are condemning yourself, for you who are judging are committing the same things.

This is a short meditation on one of my favorite examples of Romans 2:1. One of the most difficult realities of the verse are thus: “In what you are judging another, you are condemning yourself, for you who are judging are committing the same things.”

How are we committing the same things?

Truly… how can we be considered one who commits the same things, when, say, we judge a psychopath for going on a rampage?

Could it be, perchance, when we satisfy our bloodlust by disregarding those we disagree with into the deepest “pits of eternal hell?” 

Let’s put a pin in this thought, and instead use a fictional character to draw out the position, that we do not piss anyone off quite yet.

For the past year or so, I’ve been enamored with A Song of Ice and Fire, the book series by George R.R. Martin, more commonly known by TV fans as Game of Thrones. The books are rich with detail, political epics drawing on real historical travesties/victories (religious crusades, emancipatory movements, and, of course, games among the richest houses in the fictional land of Westeros.)

For those who don’t know, the story is thus: in King’s Landing, the center of all of Westeros (displaying a giant ornamental castle with red walls, containing an iron throne, a highly-coveted and uncomfortable seat made of the finest swords in the land, on which mankind governs,) the Hand of the King mysteriously passes away. The king, Robert, requests an old friend of his, Eddard Stark, and his family from the North, to move down to King’s Landing and help maintain order as Hand of the King (and, as we come to find, control the king’s lavish vices.)

While there, Eddard Stark finds that all is not what it appears to be, that the previous Hand of the King was likely murdered by someone powerful, and he must discern who and expose them before it is too late for him and his family.

For many who are familiar with the story, this is a heavy simplification, so let me add a few more details and get to the point. The story is a spin on the noble houses of medieval England, oft-times calling them out on their perceived “nobility” for what they really are: men. Big men in big armor playing games with the lives of the lower classes. And sure enough, the family of the queen, the “Lannisters,” play a major role in this judgmental, rigged system in order to achieve their own ends.

The father of this house, named “Tywin Lannister,” lives far off to the west, and is the richest man in Westeros (think Elon Musk.) He has the government by the balls, as they owe him mountains of gold, and the queen, his own daughter, is under his thumb, having been forced to marry King Robert (so he, in essence, owns both of them.)

We’ll come back to him in a moment. As the story progresses, it becomes readily apparent that some kind of plot is brewing beneath the surface of King’s Landing, though we do not know what it is. The Lannisters plan to do… something. Thus Eddard’s wife takes one of the Lannisters into captivity out of suspicion for the aforementioned murder of the Hand of the King. This leads to one of Tywin’s sons, Jaime, a knight of the king’s guard, to confront and attack Eddard, breaking his leg, and leaving him in the infirmary. The Lannisters then set soldiers loose on certain parts of the Stark’s home in the North, to wreak havoc until Eddard’s wife frees the captive Lannister.

Upon realizing this, Eddard Stark (who, again, is still the Hand of the King,) swiftly writes a letter to Tywin, telling Tywin to come to King’s Landing within a fortnight to answer for the crimes of his bannermen, or be branded an enemy of the crown.

Now, though we learn all of this information concerning Tywin, we do not actually meet this character, or begin psychologically analyzing him, until episode seven of the TV series, and until the end of the first book. His name looms over the story until he is finally unveiled, speaking to his oldest son in one of the greatest character introductions of all time.

I have now finally reached the point. I would like to watch this character’s introduction with you, and relate it back to the exposition on man’s judgment in Romans 2:1. For the full scene, you may click here. I advise watching it beforehand, even if you haven’t seen the show, as this will be analyzing this specific scene and how it demonstrates the judgment of man.            

The Analysis

When we first meet Tywin at his camp, with his forces, we receive a wealth of telling imagery to show us who this character is. The fact that he is at a tent full of soldiers shows us that he is an intelligible man, according to the flesh – quite knowledgeable in warfare. Throughout the entire scene, he is skinning a stag, which is the house sigil of King Robert of Westeros (to show that he has no respect for the one in hierarchal authority above him.) This also shows that he has no problem taking matters into his own hands, “getting his hands dirty” to accomplish his goals. This makes him a versatile man, inherently dangerous.

When the scene first begins, Tywin is speaking to his oldest son, Jaime – the only one of his three children who are as powerful a warrior as he. When Jaime finishes reading the letter, he immediately says, in cocksure confidence, “Poor Ned Stark. Brave man – terrible judgment.” This is our first demonstration of judgment in the face of Tywin Lannister, and it is a judgment imposed upon their common enemy, by his own son. But when we see the scene, we do not see a confident knight laughing at an enemy, but a son seeking his father’s approval. He gives a little smirk full of doubtful hope for words of commendation.

Instead of agreeing with his own son, Tywin glares at him, and then says, “Attacking Ned was stupid.” As he removes the guts from the stag, he says, “Lannisters don’t act like fools.”

So the very first line we hear from Tywin is judgment cast, not on their common enemies, but on his own son. By calling his son stupid and foolish at the outset, in ignorant disapproval, Tywin reveals his methodology to “perfecting” his children and lineage – manipulative, hypocritical judgment. Sure enough, Jaime’s smirk swiftly vanishes, knowing that his actions were not enough for his father. Tywin presses on, saying, “Would you like to say something clever? Go on! Say something clever.”

Here’s the scary part: careful viewers/readers would note that Tywin is right.

Such is the judgment of man. It’s not that our judgment is inherently wrong on principle. In our example, Tywin’s claim, that attacking the Hand of the King and leaving him for dead is stupid (especially if said Hand is good friends with King Robert,) demonstrates man’s ability to think and grasp morality clearly. As we are noting from Paul, it’s not that our judgments are always “wrong,” but that they are self-condemnatory, for the judgments we impose upon others reflect upon ourselves in the flesh (Rom. 1:28-2:1.)

With these few lines, we see how the entire Lannister house gets its attitude, perspective, and shortcoming. Tywin’s goal is to forcefully rip Jaime apart, that he can rebuild him on his terms. To do this, he does not give Jaime the affirmation he needs, and instead preys on his insecurity – strong knight, dumb brain. Jaime, like most under the thumb of a judgmental family member, rolls his eyes. This isn’t the first time he’s been made to feel stupid by his father (see the first episode of the show, where this interaction was foreshadowed,) and it won’t be the last. So when Jaime replies, “Catelyn Stark [Eddard’s wife] took my brother!” It’s not with an intent to regain any ground, but hope that submission will tide his father’s criticism.

And no, it does not work. Tywin asks, twice, “Why is Ned still alive?” On its surface, this seems contradictory – why would Tywin wish for Eddard’s death if he found attacking Ned to be stupid in the first place?

The books provide us with the answer. In Tyrion VII, book 1 of ASOIAF, Martin writes:

“Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, was in his middle fifties, yet hard as a man of twenty. Even seated, he was tall, with long legs, broad shoulders, a flat stomach. His thin arms were corded with muscle. When his once-thick golden hair had begun to recede, he had commanded his barber to shave his head; Lord Tywin did not believe in half-measures.”

This shows his practicality on this matter. Simply: if you start something, why not follow through? This is an extraordinarily poor place for Tywin to make this assertion, but this is a demonstration of poor judgment, not proper judgment (more on proper judgment later.) Not only was it stupid to attack the Hand, as it confirmed the Starks as their enemies (whereas their armies in the North were simply used to pressure the Starks for political reasons first and foremost,) but even stupider for Jaime not to follow through with the murder, for now Eddard can retaliate and tell the King his side of the story, cast a pall upon the Lannisters, and make it all the more difficult for the house to achieve their political ideals.

For multiple reasons I won’t get into, finishing Ned at that moment specifically would have had a long-term positive influence on the Lannister house in the long run, but for the moment I will say that it doesn’t quite matter in relation to the dynamic between Tywin and Jaime, here. Tywin would harp on his son’s methods either way. If he didn’t confront Eddard, Tywin would likely have judged his son unworthy for remaining passive. And he had killed Eddard, Tywin would likely have judged his son unworthy for taking matters into his own hands.

In other words, there would be no way to escape the judgment of Tywin, and Jaime would be subject to his own selfish control either way. This is because, like I said, Tywin is not looking to learn from Jaime, or gain intel, but tear Jaime down. By poking at his insecure view on his honor, we see that this disrespect inherent in Tywin is not only directed at the King, but at his own children. Inevitably, Jaime will reveal his internal monologue, a deeper perspective in his mind, which Tywin will use against him.

In this, we see yet another facet of man’s judgment – it is a weapon, to many, which typically harms, and cannot correct. The judgment of man is often sly, in accord with our own personal motivations, whether we are consciously aware of it or not. The judgment, in this case, is a barrage, and Jaime, though wearing armor, is being psychologically penetrated by someone he truly should be able to confide in and receive words of encouragement from.

Jaime gives a frustrating, but understandable answer as to why he left Eddard alive: “One of our men interfered, spearing him through the leg before I could finish him.” Yet this is not satisfying to Tywin, whose agenda in tearing Jaime down cannot be accomplished with this simple explanation. Tywin overplays his judgment, here, because Tywin reveals that he does not care for what is true (as that would exonerate and conciliate him to his son, more on that in the next article) but for the wants of the one judging.

So, Jaime gives in. Tywin stubbornly asks the question a second time, demanding any reason to berate Jaime. Defeated, Jaime reveals, “It wouldn’t have been clean.”

Tywin’s response is that Jaime spends “too much time worrying about what other people think of you.” This line, from Tywin, is the hypocritical statement, and this attitude, toward his children, is the primary issue with his judgment. It is supremely hypocritical for the most powerful man in Westeros to say, “You worry about what others think of you,” while psychologically manipulating his son into perceiving Tywin and their family through a specific lens for his own reach for power.

Jaime quickly replies, “I could care less what anyone thinks of me.” In this, Tywin has him, as Jaime is subject to a Freudian slip (his verbiage reveals here that he does care, a little, what others think of him.) Tywin finally topples Jaime’s walls, replying, “That’s what you want others to think of you.”

In finally getting to the point – how we condemn ourselves in our judgment of others – we may first ask: how does Tywin Lannister know which buttons to push on Jaime’s end, if not for Tywin’s own personal insecurities? Tywin later says in the scene, “The lion [sigil of the Lannisters] does not concern himself with the opinion of sheep.” So, he insists that Jaime upholds the family’s legacy and honor, and yet the very reason for this lecture is that Jaime's actions – including killing a previous king he was sworn to protect, which is why Tywin hits Jaime with the “Kingslayer” title – have already brought dishonor. Tywin wants to preserve the appearance of nobility and dignity, but he’s willing to overlook or enable serious moral and legal violations (like Jaime’s illegitimate relationship with one of his family members, shown in the show, as well as his betrayal of the previous king,) as long as they don’t tarnish the family publicly.

Could there be more evident an example of hypocrisy? “A lion does not concern himself with the opinion of sheep,” and yet the appearance of the Lannisters is of great value to Tywin, which is necessarily dictated by public opinion! He further derides Jaime for this “vain” insecurity, and yet Tywin’s entire agenda is to tear down Jaime to maintain noble appearances! And, finally, Tywin’s stated goal (apart from his immediate manipulation) is to “command the respect” of the other houses – while simultaneously skinning the sigil of the King.

To top it all off, when Tywin is challenged on this (Jaime, upon hearing that Tywin is seeking the respect of the houses, says, “I see, so the lion does concern himself with the opinion of sheep,”) he twists his condemnation from opinion on Jaime to fact for his goals, revealing his fear-mongering tactics to achieve his agenda. The problem here is that his explanation, which ultimately requires the opinion of the sheep to be one of respect, by definition means that he is focused on the opinions of others, whether he likes it or not.

In what you are judging another, you are condemning yourself, for you who are judging another are committing the same things.

It is this ability of man to arrive at correct moral judgments (Jaime notes the poor judgment of the “honorable,” Tywin notes the poor judgment of his son, yet this scene only comes about because both actively practice sin under the guise of nobility,) that condemns us. It is not simply that we judge at all, which would be an inconclusive claim, for God Himself will be judging, and if He can give this inspired breakdown, then we can see the difference between our mortal inadequacies and His righteous, all-knowing capabilities.) In truth, we are defenseless because, while judging, we commit the same acts. While calling others insecure, we act insecure, and this condemns us.

So! What’s the resolution? Well, it’s stop sinning, of course, but since we all sin whether we’d like it or not, it becomes apparent that we are stuck in a sinful trap, called the flesh. Since we are all sinners, and we are all judgmental, we all self-condemn, and must inevitably deal with the judgment of the only One Who has the ability to judge righteously.

- GerudoKing