Posts Tagged: judgmentalism

“The Limits of Non-Judgmentalism”

Matt. 7:1 “Judge not, that you be not judged.

Matt. 7:2 For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.” (Matthew 7:1-2, English Standard Version)

This morning, in my virtual 12-step meeting, we discussed the topic of judgmentalism. There were many wise and helpful comments made.

A couple of people pointed out that judging—even when you don’t have a lot of facts—is not always a bad thing. In fact, there are times when swiftly judging people or circumstances might keep us alive. If someone pulls a gun and waves it around, it might be wise to make a quick judgment. One person pointed out that there are times when judgment might be better called “discernment”.

But the consensus of the group seemed to be that judgment was a bad thing. One of my fellow-addicts said that he used to judge people by the cars they drove. If a person drove a fancy car, they were a “jerk”. (I cleaned this up a bit, compared to the word my 12-step friend actually used.) Then, he met a guy who was the nicest guy in the world. The guy was driving a BMW the first time they got together for coffee. They became good friends.

Of course, I was thinking about what Jesus said about judging. As Oswald Chambers pointed out long ago, Jesus had a very simply admonition for those who are inclined to judge: DON’T! To quote a more recent philosopher, Bob Newhard, “Stop it!

As we were talking in my group, I suddenly realized that I had been adding something to Jesus’ command that isn’t actually there. I had been adding to Jesus’ words, which is probably not the wisest thing in the world to do. Jesus said, “Don’t judge.” I had understood this to mean “Don’t judge others.” I looked at the Greek New Testament for Jesus’ command. To my shock, it doesn’t have a direct object. There is no word “others” in this verse.

Now, in the immediate context, it is clear that Jesus is referring to not judging others. So, I was not totally off-base in my interpretation. However, I wonder why Jesus didn’t make it clear from the get-go that he was talking about judging others. Of course, it is always hazardous to speculate as to why someone didn’t say something. Still, I wonder. Is it possible that Jesus was saying that we should not even judge ourselves?

In fact, the Apostle Paul does say it this way in a letter to Corinthian believers. Paul says, “I don’t even judge myself.” (1 Corinthians 4:3-5) It may be that Paul was unpacking and applying this saying of Jesus.

In any case, here is what I’ve noticed: The more I judge myself in a harsh and unhealthy way, the more I tend to judge others in the same way. Perhaps I just get tired of judging myself and project my self-blame onto others. It is also possible that judging others is simply more fun.

I think I need to take a break from judging myself for a while. After all, it is God who is ultimately the Judge. And God will judge me with love, fairness, and compassion.

There is also a persistent rumor that God judged all the sins of all the people of the whole world at the cross of Christ. If that is true, then we need to get off our own backs as well as everybody else’s back.

DTEB, “Humility: The Best Policy”

Little things often suggest bigger truths. For example, . . .

. . . I was doing my gratitude list and threw in a comma before the word “but”. My grammar checker flagged the comma. I was a blend of irritated and curious. What was wrong with putting a comma there? My grammar checker was wrong on this one!

Or so I thought.

I checked with Professor Google. Curiosity triumphed over my irritation. From my first hit, I learned that I should only put a comma before the word “but” when it joins two independent clauses.

Here was my original sentence, edited to preserve the privacy of the one for whom I was grateful”

“_________________ had a bad wreck, but is doing well now (or at least better).”

But then, I said to myself—still irritated and wanting to justify my grammatical self—that these two clauses were independent. In fact, now I was even more irritated.

And then it hit me: No, they were not two independent, stand-alone clauses. There is no subject in the second half of the sentence. Therefore, this clause is not independent. I threw in the little word “he” and my grammar checker’s two blue lines magically disappeared. Poof!

Things wax very ironic here. I am a teacher. I am not just interested in good content when I read my students’ papers. I correct my students’ grammar frequently. One of my major emphases is that every sentence needs to have a subject and a verb. I don’t like subjects that are merely “understood”, yet not expressed. It is too easy to misunderstand when something is (supposedly) understood. And here I was, doing the very thing that I correct in my students’ papers.

So, I not only learned something about grammar. I also learned something about me. I learned—again—that I get irritated (and irritation gets me) by what I think I know but don’t. And why is that? I lack one of the cardinal virtues: humility. And naturally, a lack of humility makes me irritated. It also makes me more judgmental of others. What I think I know but don’t may not be so bad in and of itself. In fact, it probably doesn’t amount to anything. However, it can lead to other bad things like pride, irritation, and judgmentalism. Or rather, what I don’t know but think I know can reveal the pride, irritation, and judgmentalism that are already there.

What a lot of unwelcome insight a little comma can generate!

“ON NOT WANTING TO KEEP STRICT RECORDS”

I hate math!  I don’t like numbers.  I never have.  But sometimes, it is a good idea to make your hatred work for you.

So, true confession time: I have a runaway mind.  I tend to think inappropriate thoughts—lust, self-pity, judgmental thoughts, worry, regrets, you name it.  And once I start down that rabbit hole, I am like Alice.  I keep falling.

So, I’ve tried an experiment today.  I am trying to keep a strict record of all my inappropriate thoughts.  I haven’t had a lot of them.

Why?  I think because I hate quantification so much.  You might say that I have a case of “quantiphobia.”  (I thought that I was the first to identify this sort of irrational fear.  However, my illusion of creativity was punctured almost immediately by googling “the fear of numbers.”  Numerophobia and arithmophobia are fairly common.  Oh well!)

So, here is how I’ve been handling inappropriate thoughts today.  I have been trying to quantify them.  Trying to keep a strict account of my unhealthy thoughts is so intimidating that it is easier simply not to have them.

In a sense, this might be a variation on the tenth step of twelve-step groups: “Continued to take personal inventory, and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.”  Sometimes, just being aware of my tendency to go wrong is a helpful thing.  Admissions of truth to oneself are never easy.  It is much easier to inflict truth on other people.

Furthermore, I have such an easily distracted mind, and such a contrarian mind, that trying to focus on any unhealthy thoughts for more than a second or two leaves me desiring to distract myself with healthy thoughts.  And I am so contrary that if I decide to concentrate on unhealthy thoughts, my mind is prone to rebel, and go to healthy thoughts.  (The same is true for me concerning healthy thoughts.  If I set out to think only healthy thoughts, I know it’s going to be a long and frustrating day.)

Now, I realize that this is exceedingly strange.  I don’t think that this approach would work for most people.  I don’t know if it will work for me over the long haul.  However, I’m going to try to make it a habitual discipline, and see if it will work.  One thing is for sure: It has helped me today!

“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.

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