When Imaginary Judgment Gets Real

"Do not speak evil against one another, brothers. The one who speaks against a brother or judges his brother, speaks evil against the law and judges the law. But if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law but a judge. There is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbor?" (James 4:11–12, ESV).

Judgment comes naturally to those made in God's image. This should not surprise us; God is the most judgmental being in existence. He has an opinion about everything and is indifferent about nothing. In the Creation week, everything He made is immediately pronounced, "Good!" But it's not very good until it all is. We see this nature further displayed as mankind descends into darkness, depravity, and defiant rebellion. 

Think of the implied critique lying at the heart of these questions: "Adam, where are you?" "Who told you that you were naked?" "Eve, what is this that you have done?" "Why has your face fallen?" "Where is your brother, Abel?" "Abraham, Why did your wife laugh?" "Jonah, are you right to be angry?" Evidently, God's all-seeing eye remains exquisitely sensitive when things that ought to be perfect are not.

As finite copies made in the image of this God, it should not come as a surprise to find the same critical spirit within our own hearts as well. Who can help but notice the darker brick in a wall of lighter colored ones? We see that and almost cannot help but wonder, "How did the bricklayer not notice that brick was darker? Was he not paying attention? Similarly, we notice the scratch on the hood of a new car, the zit on pretty girls nose, the coffee drip on the front of a new white shirt, the crackling interference coming from a Church PA system, the "ums" cluttering the speech of a nervous public speaker, and the list goes on. It's as if our mind was designed to see all the imperfections in a very imperfect world.

Before we get too all fired slap-happy pronouncing judgment left, right, and center, however, there are at least three significant facts to keep in mind.

First, we are not God. As such, we have neither the perspective, the authority, nor do we possess all the relative facts to enter into judgment competently. Even when our position as fathers, mothers, pastors, elders, deacons, managers, etc., requires of us some measure of judgment, we should exercise this carefully and humbly. We should, therefore, entertain great caution when it comes to judging things we can't know for certain-- things like the motives and intentions of other human beings. No matter how much we pretend to know, we can never see beyond the skin of a person. Body language, facial expression, tone of voice, eye contact certainly gives us more to work with. But there are still gaps. Ah, but you say to yourself, "I know a thing or two because I've seen a thing or two," or, "I'm a good judge of character, and I am never (you actually mean rarely, don't you?) wrong." Perhaps I grant you those two assertions, that still doesn't mean you can say with Divine authority, "I know what's going on in your head!" or "I know what you really meant when you said _________ !"

Over twenty years of ministry, I have seen the devil make use of such hubris in my own heart (and in the hearts of several congregants) to do enormous damage--and all for naught based on a sincere misunderstanding. Being sincerely wrong, by the way, doesn't change the fact: we were wrong.

Second, we are not perfect. As Solzenitzen once observed, "The line of evil extends through every human heart." None of us are immune. Sin infects our purest sentiments, imbalances our most poised moments, muddies our sharpest insights and pollutes our purest motives. Not only does sin have this effect, but it does so in a way and to an extent that even the best of us tend to underestimate. So, it's not just that we don't know others as we imagine; we don't know ourselves either. This should give us great pause.

Third, with a few exceptions, we must therefore conclude, we are in no position to publically judge or criticize others. And we should ruthlessly mortify the much more vociferous habit we all of judging others silently in the privacy of our own heart. Not only does such judgment lie forever above us, to reach for it as if were our right is itself a matter worthy of the severest condemnation in Scripture:

"Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand... Why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God; for it is written, "As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God." So then each of us will give an account of himself to God." (Romans 14:4, 10–12).

Surely we all know this? So why do we persist in judging others? Well, I think there several reasons. First, we find comfort in judging others; it draws attention (at times our own attention) away from our own failures and unfaithfulness. Second, we find comfort in blaming others. It's hard to own our sin as our own responsibility. We prefer to share the blame around; it makes it feel not quite so...,well, bad. "You made me angry" sounds so much better than "I am a bad tempered buffoon who tends to overreact, needlessly escalating tense conversations." "You hurt my feelings" feels more soothing than "I was too prickly, and that's a real problem for me!" "You should have been a better example, then I wouldn't have so easily settled for my own mediocrity." Feels so much better than, "I am so disappointed with my own parenting and the spiritual condition of my own children, I just don't know what to do?"  

There is, no doubt, some measure of truth in blameshifting, but it's never the whole truth. Worse, it's rarely the kind of truth that leads a man out of the darkness. Worst of all, it's almost always the kind that leads a man away from the Cross, deeper into the darkness of self-deception, self-righteousness, and self-pity. 

Third, we judge others because we don't like facing our own sin and much prefer the outward-facing logic of, "The problem with the world is those kinds of people over there" to the inward-facing logic of the mirror: "I have met the enemy, and He is I."

At such times it's good to remember, the most judgmental Person in the universe (bar none) offers a better solution: I so don't want to judge you in your sins that I sent my own Boy to die in your place, for your sins! 

Be honest now: Would your home, the Church, and your own soul not be a happier place if you had the same spirit and the same spirit as God? 

None of that is to say, of course, that we should never enter into judgment. Child rearing, pastoring, not to mention obeying Jesus' injunction not to cast your pearls before swine would all be impossible if God meant us to suspend discernment and become credulous morons, but that's not really our problem, is it? I didn't think so! So let's linger a while at the foot of the Cross and spend some unhurried time gazing at the One God judged to end all judgments.