How can you judge if you weren’t there?

We may have a view, and it could be a strong one, but what if you weren’t there?

Even if you were there, you weren’t there experiencing it as they experienced it.

Even if you were there, your position taints your viewpoint, and it commands our attention.

To listen…

… to the person who has an account of sin done against them, for instance; a person who is compelled forth by some unknown force with courage to tell… with the hope that a hearing may finally be given. Stand down when you’re tempted to silence them, when you’re tempted to defend someone with a case to answer.

Let the dialogue occur. Wait patiently for what is to be expressed. Kindly allow the words to be spoken forth. Be careful not to prejudge.

The more we think we were there—in a position to appropriately judge—the more we may find that we’re deceived. Unless we’re prepared to gently though firmly advocate for the weaker party to have their say, we may be doing more harm than good; operative word in the previous two sentences: “may.”

We can only see circumstances we can see. Neither can they see what you can see, nor can you see what they see. There is only finite information that we all see, and we all see much of that so differently. And yet we’re destined to call our truth—what we see—THE truth. There must be space for people to be heard. Whenever we don’t allow a person space to communicate, it may be that our hearts have hardened toward them. Let us be reminded of a key biblical truth:

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.”

— Jeremiah 17:9

Could it be that our hearts are so decided in judgement? If so, take great care to be correct! So very often, we aren’t. And others suffer as a result, without us ever suspecting we’ve been deceived. We may redouble the abuse, tragically, without ever questioning ourselves.

You may think you know the person being brought to account: that they’re a “good person,” or even a “great person.”

Nobody, no matter how much they’ve done for God, no matter how talented they are, (especially) no matter their charm or persuasiveness, is anything like Jesus. None are beyond reproach.

Why do we elevate our favourite pastors and Christian leaders? It is unbiblical (James 2) to show partiality.

Not even the apostles Peter and Paul were anything like perfect enough to be heralded as heroes. The apostles rejected being elevated (Acts 3:12; 10:25-26; 14:11-18). Nobody deserves those accolades other than Jesus himself.

Yet, even as we praise our heroes of the faith, we bring judgement against them, ourselves, and especially others—who may have seen a different, more human, side to them than we’ve seen.

We don’t realise that as we elevate one,
we can often unknowingly diminish another.

If we must elevate someone, elevate those we really do know (knowing their bad traits as well as their good traits) and do it privately. We should only praise those whose hearts we truly know, for it’s only as we see someone for who they are that we can really accept them in cognisance of their brokenness—frailty for which we all bear.

Can you really judge? The moment we judge is the moment we lose sight of who we are. Creations taking on the Creator’s role.

A mentor shared with me recently that he watches the television news for one reason: to observe his own heart. As soon as the dialogue of criticism begins within him—and he notes that it ALWAYS does—that observed state in his heart reminds him, as the psalmist David said, “My sin is ever before me” (Psalm 51:3).

The biblical paradox is such that the one
we CAN trust is true to their heart; they SEE their sin.

Those who cannot see their sin are most dangerous.

Why is it that there is so much conflict? It’s the heart that attempts to control you. It’s their heart. And many of them, competing to devour you. It’s also our own heart, when we’re honest, because we find there are many things that are excruciating in life if we cannot control them—not least of which to judge.

For the hearts that are set on controlling us, we need boundaries of kindly assertiveness. Why submit to being bullied by hearts set on judging that we belong to be used by them?

But it’s the same for us. We can’t demand anything from anyone, lest we become tyrants of judgement ourselves.

If we maintain a friendly countenance, we can gently and positively assert that others behave with a friendly countenance. With such, all have the right and are allowed to speak.

When hearts abide in God, we see that the Lord looks good.
God gave us a voice that we might be heard.
The Lord looks good when we listen…
… without judgement.

Photo by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash