Posts Tagged: being judgmental

“Burning my Black Robe”

“Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven;” (Luke 6:37 English Standard Version)

I like to think of myself as not being very judgmental. This is true—as long as you see things the same way I do and don’t do anything that irritates me. In other words, I am very judgmental. I don’t like judgmental people. A lot of my self-dislike and self-criticism flow from my tendency to judge.

When it came to judging, Jesus had some very direct words: “Don’t do it!” Leon Morris has some good observations on vs. 37.

“Jesus’ opposition to our judging other people is put in a peremptory command, Judge not. He goes on to the consequence, you will not be judged. A similar injunction to avoid condemning follows and an instruction to forgive. In all this Jesus is not of course rejecting legal processes. He has in mind not law-courts but the all-too-common practice of assuming the right to criticize and condemn one’s neighbours. This, he says, we must not do. It is not quite clear whether you will not be judged refers to the present judgment people pass or the future judgment of God or both. If we are harsh with our judgments on other people we generally find that they return the compliment and we ourselves are widely condemned, whereas if we do not pass judgment on others our neighbours are slow to condemn us. But the words apply also to more permanent consequences. The person who judges others invites the judgment of God upon himself. It is the one with the forgiving attitude who is forgiven. This is not salvation by merit: rather the thought is that the true disciple is not judgmental. When God accepts people God’s grace changes them. A forgiving spirit is evidence that the person has been forgiven.”[1]

So, I am going to make a serious attempt over time, beginning today, to be more aware of when I feel like judging. Then, I’m going to shut my mouth and think about what would happen if God judged me the way I am inclined to judge my fellow-sinner. I’m going to burn my black judge’s robe. It never fit me well anyway.


[1]Leon Morris, Luke: An Introduction and Commentary, TNTC 3; IVP/Accordance electronic ed. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1988), 152.

“ON OPENING MY EYES WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE THEM CLOSED (AND SEEING ANOTHER KID WITH HIS EYES OPEN)”

Judge not!” (Matthew 7:1)

“ ‘Jesus’ instructions with regard to judging others is very simply put; He says, “Don’t.’ ” (Oswald Chambers)

 

I was probably about five- or six-years old when I noticed that another boy in my Sunday School class had not closed his eyes when the teacher told us that we should all close our eyes and pray.

I, of course, knew that I had to inform the teacher of this infraction.  (Hey!  Someone has to keep law and order, and hold back the chaos!)  The teacher thanked me, and went on with the class.  I’m not sure if she had to suppress irritation or a laugh.  Maybe both.

Since then, I have become much better at trying to disguise my judgmentalism.  I wish I were better from it, but I can’t honestly say that.  No, I am better at trying to disguise my judgmentalism.

Take driving, for example.  I hate it when people weave in and out of traffic.  It keeps me from effectively weaving in and out of traffic.

My wife is a really good woman, and my best friend.  However, every once in a very great while, she forgets to turn off a light when she leaves a room, and I feel a deep-seated need to point that out—despite the fact that my dad used to do that, and I swore I would never do that.

However, I sometimes forget to turn off one or more lights when I leave a room.  That is, of course, an entirely different matter.

And then there are the big things that I judge other people for.  There are also the similar, but even bigger, things that I (the judge) have done.

So, what can I do to grow past my young, judgmental, tattle-tale-ish self?

Well, for one thing, I can try to pay attention.  When am I feeling judgmental and/or thinking judgmental thoughts?  Awareness is not growth or holiness or compassion, but it can be a prelude to those good things.

I can ask myself a simple, but uncomfortable, question: In what way or ways is my behavior similar to what I am judging in the other person?  Often the things we are most irritated with in other people are precisely the things that we are struggling with in ourselves.  Or, more often perhaps, they are precisely the things that we are not struggling with in ourselves.

The truth is that judging other people is one of my favorite sports.  However, it doesn’t burn very many calories, nor does it tone up any muscles.  In fact, judging doesn’t do anything good at all.  It doesn’t help me or the person I’m judging.  It doesn’t glorify God.

Are there times when a person needs to be confronted about what they are doing?  Yes!  However, if I have my rebuker in overdrive, the problem is mine, and not the other person’s problem.

“ON LEFT TURNS, OBEYING THE LAW, JUDGMENTALISM, AND OTHER MATTERS

I was on my way to meet a friend.  He usually drives to our twelve-step meeting.  It helps me to save money.

However, there is left turn signal on the way to where we meet that makes eternity entirely believable.  Only when someone pulls up on one of the side streets will the red light for the main road be triggered.  And only after traffic on the side streets has done its thing will my left turn signal be activated.  You can sit there a long time early on a Saturday morning before you can make a left turn.  Furthermore, you can see about a quarter of a mile down the road from the light.  If there is any traffic coming your way on the main road, you can certainly see it.

So, this past Saturday I was running late (as is often the case).  I thought of turning left at the red light, since no one was coming.  I’ve done so before.  However, I decided to be a law-abiding citizen this time.

Just after this decision, an SUV came speeding around me, crossed the double yellow line and went into the left lane of traffic coming toward me, and turned left on a red left-turn light.  Despite the fact that I had just about done a similar thing—perhaps even because of that fact—I could feel judgmentalism welling up inside of me.  I became aware of the judgmental feelings, confessed my sin to God, and continued to wait for my light to change.  Eventually, someone pulled up on one of the side roads, which triggered the cycle, and I turned.

It hit me only later: If I had been in the act of turning when the other vehicle came screaming around me, I would have almost certainly been hit.  Such a hit on the driver’s side of a small car could easily have been fatal.  And, of course, the police would have cited both the other driver and me, since we were both doing something illegal—provided, that is, that I was still alive to be cited.

I don’t know if I came up with this myself, but I have often thought that, whenever something bad happens, there are almost always at least two mistakes.  If there is only one mistake, bad things generally don’t happen, because someone covers for the one who makes a the wrong choice.  (Of course, there are exceptions, as there almost always are to nearly all generalizations.)

My feelings now changed from irritation at long lights and judgmentalism against the other driver (who had done what I wanted to do) to relief and gratitude that I was alive and that neither I nor my car, nor the other driver’s vehicle were banged up.

P.S.  I arrived at our meeting place a minute before my ride got there.

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