Judgment vs. Judgmentalism
Josh McFarland
“Man, who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?” (Luke 12:14, ESV). Jesus asked this question when a man requested that he resolve a family dispute. By simply glossing over this story, it may seem that Jesus disapproved of judging in general. After all, didn’t he also command us to “Judge not” (Matt 7:1)? Is Christianity best lived out by refusing to render any judgment about anyone else for any reason? Shouldn’t we simply leave everyone individually to God?
Without leaving Luke 12, we can refute such an interpretation, because as soon as Jesus refused to make a judgment about the family fortune, he rendered a scathing judgment about the man’s motives instead. “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness,” Jesus warned the crowd (v. 15) before giving them the parable of the rich fool (vv. 16-20). By reserving his judgment for the more important things, he exemplified how to make an appropriate judgment while avoiding judgmentalism.
The reality is that Christians are empowered by Scripture to judge sins within the body, and, in fact, when faced with the option of calling out sin, refusing to do so may be an egregious error. Many New Testament passages make this clear. For example, James tells us that “whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins” (Jas 5:19-20). In Christ, we owe one another much more than apathy and isolation.
The most comprehensive passage on the topic is probably 1 Corinthians 5 and 6, where we’re told that a legal conflict between believers ought to be brought before the church instead of a secular court. The logic is that believers are most qualified to judge such matters, since we will one day judge the world and the angels (1 Cor 6:2–3). Because that is our destiny, we ought to practice our prerogative now. This exhortation sometimes comes as a shock to Christians who assume, based on faulty interpretations of Scripture, that our job is to sit back and refrain from expressing the slightest opinion toward anyone lest we risk transgressing either the idol of absolute autonomy or the worldly definition of love.
Why, then, does Jesus use the words “judge not”? How does that command fit in? To treat this question, I will examine Matthew 7:1-6, demonstrating that Jesus’ teaching is consonant with the New Testament’s positive stand toward making judgments.
The Greek word krinō, used in Matthew 7, is one of the more versatile words in the New Testament. The root has a variety of shades of meaning, and can indicate anything from a formal, legal ruling (John 18:31), to belief (John 3:18), to a traveling itinerary (Acts 27:1) [1]. Essentially, this word can be taken broadly to mean a discerning response, a conclusion based on whatever criteria are at work.
“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you” (Matt 7:1-2). Jesus’ first observation about judgment is that it entails reciprocity. At the most basic level, we see this whenever we point out a fault to someone, only to have them respond with an equivalent charge: “Oh yeah, well, what about that time you…” (complete the sentence). This is the easiest natural defense against scrutiny. If I’m trying to point out a weakness in someone else that I ignore in myself, then I’m automatically discredited. Not only does the sin seem less serious because we have it in common, but I’m also disqualified as a hypocrite.
However, at a deeper level, this reciprocity exists because ethics and morals derive universally from God, the source of all truth and goodness. “Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things” (Rom 2:1-3). Because right and wrong are objectively true, any standard applied to anyone is also applied to everyone – and everyone fails. It’s impossible to call out bad behavior in someone else without also finding it, to some degree, within ourselves.
This reality is illustrated (perhaps somewhat humorously) by Jesus’ image of someone with a wooden beam protruding from their eye inspecting someone else’s eye for a tiny particle (Matt 7:3-4). We mustn’t interpret this to mean that both parties should remain as they are, without judgment and without remedy, but rather the goal is for one party to recognize their sins and repent, in order to then share their experience for the good of another. “You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye” (Matt 7:5). To leave things as they are, with beams and specks keeping everyone blind, is no remedy for hypocrisy. The only remedy for hypocrisy is to deal decisively with sin.
It’s clear that the one who repents is thus empowered to share with their brother or sister a judgment that they’ve already applied personally. The kind of moral clarity that comes from self-examination and confession may allow us to aspire to the discerning judgment Jesus advocated, and which Paul also encouraged in 1 Corinthians 6. In both passages, the vocation is the same: Having submitted ourselves to the humility of repentance, and in light of our future role as judges, we’re to be the kinds of believers who can deliver clear, loving, healing, life-giving judgments within the body of Christ.
This last part is crucial. As already noted, James 5:19-20 is clearly intended for the church. The same is true in 1 Corinthians – “For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge?” (1 Cor 5:12). The pattern that emerges is that, when we are united in Christ, we take on a mutual obligation for one another, which, sooner or later, will involve recognizing and calling out sin.
This brings us to the last verse in the Matthew passage: “Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not throw your pearls before pigs, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you” (Matt 7:6). As an isolated maxim, this is opaque, but paired with the preceding verses, it takes on extraordinary force.
The Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7) is a long passage containing numerous clear teachings combined with earthy illustrations [2]. The image of dogs and pigs and pearls does not have a clear moral or theological instruction attached to it unless it is part of the first five verses [3]. If it is, then the holy and valuable thing that we’re told not to throw to unclean animals can only be our judgments. This turns our normal perception of judging on its head; instead of being an evil and detrimental act, it is holy. Not everyone can be trusted to hear our confession; not everyone can join us looking within for the sins that need to be excised from our hearts.
Such judgments must follow the example and instructions of our Savior. In making divine judgments, Jesus was never censorious even when his words were harsh. He embodied perfectly the famous ideal of “speaking truth in love” (Eph 4:15). And just as we are exhorted to have our “powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil” (Heb 5:14), our ability to rightly judge particular circumstances is a normal, if strenuous, part of following Christ.
According to Jesus, this practice is reserved as a holy and precious thing for those for whom it will do the most good: those whose faults we understand intimately through experience and whose needed journey of repentance we ourselves have also endured. Seen in this light, helping others remove the speck from their own eye is a life-giving activity within the sacred bonds of trust and strong empathy.
Being nice is not the same as being kind, and being judgmental is not the same as making right judgments. In fact, understanding the difference between them requires the kind of discernment that is expected of a mature believer. And not only understanding the difference, but also understanding the honorable place it has within the body of Christ. The church is called to make disciples (Matt 28:19), which requires spiritual growth in one person to be modeled and lovingly replicated in the lives of others. This is precisely what Matthew 7 describes: seeing my own sin, confessing and repenting of it, and leading someone else in that same journey. In other words, simple discipleship. Matthew 7 does not prohibit us from confronting sin; it shows us why and how to do so.
Josh McFarland - Bethel Church - Boone, Iowa
[1] It sometimes means different things even within the same passage. In Luke 12, Jesus asks, “why do you not judge [krinō] for yourselves what is right?” (v.57), but also uses the same root word to describe the judges [kritēs] who will determine our destiny if we don’t judge what’s right for ourselves (v.58).
[2] e.g., Matt 6:1-4 contains the striking idiom “do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing,” an image that can only be understood in the accompanying context of not flaunting our acts of generosity.
[3] It would make even less sense to attempt to connect it to the following verses (Matt 7:7-11) about asking God, who, like a loving Father, gives us what we need when we seek him.