God looks like Jesus. And that changes everything.

“Don’t judge.” But don’t we sometimes have to?

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“Is judging people the same as making judgments?” I get asked this question often. And I understand why.

One of my persistent fears is being judged for the contents of my grocery cart. For years I told myself, “It’s all in your head. No one cares or is paying a bit of attention to whether you, a grown woman, buy Pop-Tarts.” Then one day I bumped into an acquaintance who glanced into my cart and immediately said in lieu of a greeting, “That’s what you’re buying?!” New levels of paranoia unlocked.

Being judged is the worst. We all agree on this.

But a swing in the opposite direction—everyone doing as they see fit and staying out of their neighbors’ business—also presents its own set of problems. Not judging someone for their drinking habits won’t stop them from losing their job or their marriage. Are we saying it’s loving to silently watch their liver pickle? And am I really not supposed to have an opinion about people reposting obvious misinformation online?    

What Jesus forbids, and what he asks for

Jesus states it plainly: “Do not judge” (Matt. 7:1) This statement comes near the end of perhaps his most famous series of teachings, the Sermon on the Mount. Perhaps Jesus has noticed that the moment anyone latches onto a new moral vision (whether of CrossFit or quinoa or the kingdom of God), the first thing we tend to do is start judging anyone who hasn’t seen the light.

The kind of judging that Jesus forbids here is the verdicts we pass on others’ character, motives, and general worth. It’s appointing ourselves as judge and jury of our neighbor’s personhood. The biggest problem with this sort of judgment is we almost never have the information, nor the moral standing, to assess accurately.

Every person is a complex, ten-thousand-page book that we largely judge from reading the cover and a single sentence pulled at random. We lack the essential context to draw conclusions about the larger meaning. Only God has the full story necessary to judge a person justly.

We’re also reading other people through a thick fog of our own unnoticed biases, incomplete experience, and unhealed wounds. Even if another person’s entire book was laid open before us, we still wouldn’t have the tools to interpret it properly.

But then Jesus goes right on from saying “do not judge” to laying out procedures for eye surgery, for removing the log that’s obstructing your vision so that you can see more clearly to help somebody else. Jesus has forbidden judging people. But he isn’t abolishing discernment about right and wrong, or better and worse. He assumes we’ll all need good judgment if we don’t want to stagger blind through the world, smashing headfirst into trees.   

The alternative judgmentalism isn’t making no judgments at all. Things won’t go well for people who can’t tell a puppy from a wolf. Diets and tapeworms both help you lose weight, but that doesn’t mean they’re equally good. Life is better for all of us when we learn the difference between these things. And to do that, we need each other’s help. Simply agreeing “I won’t mention your issues if you don’t mention mine” isn’t virtuous—it’s usually a misguided attempt to self-protection that leaves us all sicker and blinder.   

Judging people is delivering a verdict on who someone is, on what they’re worth. At this level, as my friend Greg likes to say, the only right judgment is “priceless to God.” But making a judgment is learning to discern the difference between what brings life and what brings death, so that all of us can thrive. Followers of Jesus are called to extend his ministry of healing, and that requires learning to recognize signs of unhealth in both ourselves and others.

How to practice the difference in your own life

If you want to start practicing the difference between judging others and making helpful, healing judgments, here are four questions to ask when you notice yourself forming an opinion about someone else:

Have I started with myself? Jesus says deal with your own log first. No one wants a blind eye-surgeon. The best messengers of truth are those actively working on their own issues and being humbled by the daily discover of how hard change is. Helpful judgments come from friends offering friends what they also want for themselves.

What kind of relationship do we have?  Seeing a problem doesn’t mean you’re the right person to address it. Splinters tend to come out safely only where there’s a foundation of mutual care and trust. Your neighbor needs to have some reason to believe you’re reaching out from compassion, not just following an angry urge to jab them in the eyeball.

How much of the story do I know? Until someone lets us into their story, we rarely have enough information to make any useful judgments at all. Good questions precede good judgments. Take a moment to assess how much you really know and how much of what you think you know is just guesses and assumptions filling space between the lines.

Am I measuring them by me? We tend to judge most harshly things we’ve struggled with ourselves, especially if we feel we’ve made progress: “I pulled it together; why can’t you?!” But you are not the universal standard. Not everyone is working with the same resources, internal or external. Make sure you’re seeing them, not just projecting your own shame or self-satisfaction.

Judge the way you want to be judged

Jesus says, “you’ll receive the same judgment you give” (Matt. 7:2). Ask yourself, how do I want to be judged?

I don’t want to be left tangled up in a net. I don’t want my friends to just pretend they don’t see my pants split up the back.

I want freeing truth…

delivered gently…

from people in a position to know…

who truly love me…

and will stick around to help me fix the problem.

These are the conditions of life-giving judgments. The kind I want to receive. The kind I want to offer.    

My brain is an opinion-making machine. But most of the time, my opinions lack sufficient context to be truly informed and sufficient relationship to be helpful. In these cases, I’m learning to practice the spiritual wisdom of opening my hands and releasing my judgments to the wind—for my own sake, and my neighbors’ sake as well.

About the author

Meghan Larissa Good

Meghan Larissa Good is author of the Divine Gravity: Sparking a Movement to Recover a Better Christian Story and The Bible Unwrapped: Making Sense of Scripture Today.

God looks like Jesus. And that changes everything.
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