Judgment

 One time, many years ago, a brother got up in front of church and said something—I, of course, do not remember the exact words—to the effect that introverts were more selfish than extroverts.

My spirit rose within me. I am an introvert. I know lots of extroverts who are selfish. I’m not going to say that I’m unselfish, but to say that, in one sweeping statement of generalization that introverts are more selfish? That was not OK. He clearly didn’t understand everything about introversion and extroversion that I did. How dare he?

I have, in the past, prided myself for being non-judgmental. I looked on in scorn as my fellow youth refused to hang out with someone just because they weren’t “cool” enough. “Seriously,” I thought, “get a grip and grow up. You’re not so much better than everyone else.”

 

I’ve also read the account of the publican and the Pharisee in Luke 18. I’ve prided myself on being in accordance with the publican. But even while I pray, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!” A little voice has whispered in my heart, “at least you’re not like the Pharisee!”

 

And so I stand today, imperfect, before you. The thoughts I leave here have impressed me in the midst of my own need. But because I believe that all of us struggle with casting judgement at one time or another, I shall leave them with you, as well.

 

I have been intrigued by judgement among humans for a number of years, and I’ve noticed some patterns that hold true in my own life.

 

The first of these points is very simplistic. We often are tempted to accuse others of being judgmental, but we cannot make this accusation without being judgmental ourselves. You can see it in each of the examples I mentioned at the beginning. I judged the brother for his judgment on introverts. I judged my fellow youth for their judgmental attitude toward others. I judged the Pharisee for judging the publican. Honestly, who is the most judgmental person in those illustrations? If I’m honest, I have to admit that it’s probably me. 

 

What makes us accuse others of being judgmental? There seems to be a few root reasons. One is that we often accuse others of being judgmental when we are feeling guilt or shame about something. Another is, quite simply, pride. Sometimes this pride exhibits itself in feeling like we are better than others because we are more talented or more socially adept. Other times it shows up in self-righteousness, appearing humble on the outside, but lifting ourselves up on the inside.

 

Although it likely falls under the canopy of pride as well, I’m going to give special mention to the judgment that comes from the surprising place of our own insecurities. When we aren’t sure who we are in Christ, or when we have not accepted the person we have been created to be, insecurity often manifests itself as judgment.

 

When we allow ourselves the liberty of judging others, whether it be a first-person judgment, or in response to feeling judged, we open ourselves to bitterness. Bitterness is a terrible wedge between two people. Many times, it stirs up unrest, resentment, fear, and false ideas about what the other person meant by what was said or done.

 

Feeling this resentment and bitterness toward someone else ends up stealing my own peace. I must be so careful what I say to them that it becomes easier not to talk around them at all. I feel as though they are critical towards me, so I avoid them at social functions and hide when I see them in Walmart. Bitterness takes very little time to turn into bondage.

 

Whether I really have been judged by someone else, or just think I have, it hurts. It really does. It does no good to pretend I’m tough and it doesn’t matter. But to let my pain turn into bitterness is a very dangerous thing. As I nurse my wounds, I begin to separate myself from those around me. I begin to rely on my own judgment, no longer willing to trust others. Instead, I start secluding myself, turning away, relying only on my own direction.

 

Hebrews 12:15 talks about bitterness. “Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled.” I had never thought of bitterness this way. Not only does it defile me, my bitterness toward others may cause them to stumble, and thus defile them as well.

 

Why would I even write about judgment and bitterness? Christians shouldn’t have those problems.

 

I wish.

 

Satan knows all too well what temptations we are prone to, and somehow he manages to use them to his advantage more often than we care to admit. If we’re going to be real, we’re going to have to admit that we sometimes struggle with these feelings. (Unless I really am the only one!) While I may not be able to prevent these feelings, I can choose what to do with them. Allowing them to continue in my heart unchecked is a very dangerous place. Pulling them up by the root is a brave, though painful solution.

 

Jesus’ words to the Jewish leaders, “…He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her,” (John 8:7) remains true for us today. While the Church as a whole has been bestowed the power of judgment with approval from our Father, we must be very careful in the personal judgments we are tempted to cast. Many times we will find that neither side of an issue is completely in the right.

 

When judgment and bitterness overtake a group of people, it becomes very difficult to work together. Love becomes a vague and shadowy form. Decisions become difficult to make as people fear being honest and being judged for their opinions. Instead of upbuilding conversations of growth, time together is spent in stilted speech or light commentary. Times of fellowship become less common, leading to less understanding of one another’s hearts and a weaker circle of believers.

 

Is judgment a widespread problem? I’m not here to answer that. I struggle with it, more than I like to admit.

 

Is there a simple answer? Sure. Be humble. But knowing the answer and living the answer are two different things.

 

Is there hope? There is always hope. Romans 8:37 states it beautifully: “Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.” We will fail and stumble and fall, for we are human. But through Christ, through Him that loved us enough to take the judgment we deserved on Himself, we will find a way. Looking to Him and His love will help us learn to let go of the bitterness and replace judgment with grace and compassion.

 

So this is my prayer, for myself and for you, too, if you find yourself struggling. That we could go forward together, as conquerors, eyes fixed ever on the Giver of Love, for only He is able to help us overcome our flesh. And someday? Someday if we strive faithfully onward, we will sing together before His throne, free from bitterness and fear and failing, where judgment will never divide us again.

 

May God bless each one of you with a beautiful week!