"Deep down, we all hope that our friends would love us enough to judge our dumb decisions and tell us what we need to hear," Jenna McDonald writes. (Pixabay photo)
“Thou shall not judge.”
Considering how often we are told not to judge, you’d think it was one of the Ten Commandments. Yes, Jesus did say “Judge not, lest you be judged” in Matthew’s Gospel but he followed it up with something even more powerful: “For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get.”
The ultra-popular (and convenient) “don’t judge me” sentiment is something completely different than the warning Jesus is giving here. The problem is not someone judging another person and making a decision based on that judgment. Christians are called to have “right judgement” at all times.
Surely, you wouldn’t let just anyone off the street babysit your children (or your dog for that matter)? Of course not. We judge others on a regular basis. And that’s OK.
What’s not OK, however, is judging others more severely than you judge yourself. If you are holding others to high standards, you’d better be holding yourself to the same high standards. This is where Jesus gets serious. If we are noticing specks in our neighbours’ eye but neglecting the log in our own eye, this is unacceptable and supremely unjust. It’s also how spirits are squashed and confidence is shattered. Love and community cannot flourish wherever there are Pharisees.
We’ve all felt the pain of being judged wrongly. How unfair it feels to be pegged based on a snapshot of a single moment in our lives. None of us can be performing at our best at all times.
Sometimes you’ll look like a slacker mom as your kids run in the grocery store wearing chocolate-ice cream-stained clothes. Certainly the judgment in the air will be palpable. Maybe you’re really good about curbing your social media use at work but your boss paid you a surprise visit as you were scrolling your Instagram feed. Maybe a new acquaintance pops in when you’ve just emptied out your entire coat closet into the entry way for spring cleaning.
Being pegged unfairly hurts. But not as much as being pegged fairly. One might argue that it’s the latter brand of discomfort that pushes for the death and burial of an agreed-upon restrictive morality.
When someone tells someone else not to judge, it is usually because they feel that the other person is claiming moral superiority over them. If someone accuses us of being judgmental, we have to ask ourselves: am I holding myself to the same standard by which I am measuring? If we can sincerely say that we are being fair, our conscience is clear. “Don’t judge me” can also be another way of saying “I am not feeling loved by you.” The truth must always be accompanied by love.
Sometimes, however, love looks like not inviting shady people over to your home to be around your young children. That’s called “right judgment.” Love IS being “judgmental.” We must love, but we must not let wolves into the sheepfold.
Today, it is often not enough to be non-judgmental. We must be vocally supportive of certain behaviours that are against the teachings of our Catholic faith or else we/our business/our family will be Twitter-shamed. Anything that is not overt support and adulation is often considered hateful. In the Catechism of the Catholic church, we read “adulation is a grave fault if it makes one an accomplice in another’s vices or grave sins. Neither the desire to be of service nor friendship justifies duplicitous speech.” (CCC 2480).
We need to mutually hold each other to high standards. This is how collective morality can be sustained. This is how community works. This is how friendship works. Deep down, we all hope that our friends would love us enough to judge our dumb decisions and tell us what we need to hear.
When we are unable to draw social boundaries or abide by a rigorous moral code of conduct ( i.e. the Ten Commandments or something equally specific) there will be a large-scale dip in mutual trust. People will become insular and protective of their young ones and will increasingly be called “judgmental” by those who peel away any rules that restrict their freedom to live guiltless.
So keep on judging for the love of all that is holy. For the sake of your family, judge. For the sake of your soul, judge. But let it be right judgment, with your own soul as the first subject. Judge rightly; without apology but also without anger. And most importantly, make sure that your eyes are free of logs before proceeding.