One of the reasons I love being a blogger is that I love telling people what to do. My downfall is that at times others do not seem to recognize the brilliance of my insight, but I console myself in the fact that one day they might!
Hence, I know that one of the sins I struggle with is judgmentalism.
Perhaps we all have it to a certain extent, but I have it in spades. I am constantly having to remind myself that I should not judge, for I too have faults. And I should not expect people who are not Christians to behave as if they were.
And this time of year is especially difficult. Christmas is supposed to be about appreciating your family, remembering the good times you have spent together, and creating new memories.
But what do you do when there are certain family members with whom you don’t really have good memories? What if there are certain people who have left more holes in your life than anything else? We often feel that pain more acutely at Christmas.
December brings about the stark reality of all of the dads who walked out on their kids–and even some of the moms. It shines a light on the people who have devastated their families with affairs. We may not think of absent parents for 364 days a year, but when they don’t call at Christmas we’re reminded of the neglect. I struggle when I think of these so-called parents. And the anger starts to rise.
It reminds me of a wedding I was at when I had to leave early because I had such a visceral judgmental reaction.
The wedding was for two people my husband knew growing up. While they were smiling and walking down the aisle, all I could think about was the fact that a year and a half earlier the bride had aborted their baby because she was still in school, and they wanted to finish their degrees first. They had nonchalantly announced this to all of their friends at the time.
As I was seething in the pews of that church, I was also pregnant with my son, whom we knew had a serious heart defect, and whom we knew would likely not live long when he was born. We had been pressured to abort, and yet did not, because we wanted to give our baby whatever life we could.
That made the stark choice of abortion all the more vivid to me.
And as I was thinking these thoughts, there was this couple, grinning from ear to ear, enjoying the wedding they wanted now that they both had landed jobs after they had received their diplomas.
I want to reiterate here that the problem was with me; not with her.
Please hear me: I don’t mean this post to bring up fresh wounds for those of you who have undergone abortions; I know the pain you likely feel, and I don’t mean to add to it. I’m just want to illustrate a point–that we are often the most judgmental in areas where we also hurt.
And my thoughts then were not appropriate. For all I knew she had repented. Perhaps she had taken it up with God, and had been forgiven. Jesus already paid for everything hidden and secret and shameful that we have done, and no one particular sin keeps us separate from God more than others do. Yet quite often one particular sin keeps us separate from particular people.
That incident was about fifteen years ago; I have no idea what has happened to that couple, or if they have gone on to have other children. Yet I have always almost hated that woman. At the time I refused to stay for the dance, and demanded that my husband take me home, because the thought of her being so happy after she had sacrificed everything that was good and pure on the altar of convenience made me physically ill.
I am not proud of my reaction.
I am not sure what I expected; did I want to hear remorse from her in her wedding speech? Did I want her to look miserable? God, I believe, rejoices at weddings, yet somehow I didn’t feel they had the right to. Obviously the emotion I was feeling was not due to her. I was projecting on to this woman for reasons of my own.
Yet often it is in our deepest areas of pain that we are the most judgmental.
I am most judgmental about men who leave their families, and about those who take pride in their abortions, because these are the big hurts in my life: a father deserting me; a baby I so desperately wanted dying. When others throw away cavalierly what we would have done anything to keep, it makes us angry not primarily because of the hurt that they caused, but because we take it personally.
That couple did nothing against me, yet I was acting the part of God in that story, demanding a penance that was not mine to receive. I was wanting to punish them to make myself feel better, not because I wanted to bring them closer to God–which, of course, is the heart of Jesus. I was judging them, yet my feelings did not flow from any sort of godly root.
Many people say judgmentalism is caused by pride; we think we are better than others. I think it is also caused by hurt.
We are angry that things did not work out differently for ourselves, and when others seem to be replicating the problem, it is almost as if they are denying the hurt feelings that we ourselves have. The answer to judgmentalism, then, is not always to look at our own sin. I think sometimes it’s to look at our hurts.
When we don’t go to God with our hurts, we take it out on others. That pain is still there, and it is ugly and it is big and it won’t be silenced. If you won’t take it to God, it will emerge in obscure ways in anger; usually in the anger of judgmentalism. You will start projecting onto others because that way you have a seemingly safe method of exorcising some of the pain. But it doesn’t work, because it doesn’t really get to the root of what is hurting you.
This Christmas, you may find yourself angry at a sister-in-law who lets her work consume her life and ignores her children while you struggle with infertility. You may find yourself angry at the materialism of your siblings or the huge presents your nieces and nephews received when you and your husband struggle to survive on a small income. You may find yourself angry at your father for his relationship with his stepkids because he wasn’t there for you when you were a kid. You may find yourself angry when a brother-in-law makes an off-hand comment about the #metoo movement, not knowing that you were sexually harrassed at work.
It’s a time of year when it’s easy to be judgmental.
So if you find yourself overreacting with extended family this Christmas, ask yourself if they’re touching a scab, or maybe even an open wound on your heart. And then ask God if He will start to heal that wound. Don’t be afraid to touch it. Sometimes healing hurts us initially. The alternative, though, is to live with the pain. And to me, that’s not much of an alternative at all.
Have you ever found yourself being irrationally angry at someone? How much does hurt play a role in our judgmentalism? Let’s talk in the comments!
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I think I could have written this. Except I don’t blog. My hubby does think I should. Anyways, yes. I was just thinking the other day about his. I honestly don’t think I’m better than people. But with the blessing of confidence and the sin of judgementalism is really comes off like that. I pray constantly to be humbled. To find that middle.
And then the part about who I might be angry with this holiday. That’s my life. It’s a job for sure. I am praying that God does a might work in me because I don’t want to be angry. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
I’m glad it helped, Shanee! And being angry at Christmas really is miserable.
That was a really good blog. Really good insight. My husband is angry at times for no really good reason, and I always forgive him. And I thought I was doing well with simply forgiving him. I know that enables God to work. But now I am going to pray for God to heal that hurt or pain behind or underneath the judgmental words/thoughts that he is having – because he can be quite judgmental, but that is really because he needs inner healing. He needs more of God’s love. Wow.
This was really insightful. I’m sorry you had to go through that. Even when we’re wrong to be angry, it’s awful to be reminded of the pain.
The person I’ve had the hardest time forgiving was someone who dismissed the worth of my writing because it was “genre” fiction. This was after I had been hurt by someone else who didn’t think writing fiction could advance the kingdom, and I had struggled with it and concluded that yes, it could, and it was the gift I was supposed to use.
I still have to work on not being angry at him. I’m sure it would be much harder if I had been hurt by something worse.
Hi Kacey! It’s good that you have that insight, though. I think when we’re insecure about something to begin with, the hurt can be so much worse. I’d just say–forget what everyone else says and just listen to what God says (though I know that’s easier said than done!)
You know your own heart in that moment. But I don’t think it’s wrong to feel grief and righteous anger under the circumstances you describe at that wedding. I imagine God grieved. And although weddings are generally joyous occasions, I don’t believe they are all equally celebratable.
And sometimes extended family are just rude jerks who are difficult to be around. My mom has to put up with some very rude and judgmental folks on my step dad’s side but because one is his “favorite” she gets way with being rude to those she does not like. She does what she can to avoid major issues but sometimes the problem is just poor behavior on the other side.
It helps to keep this in mind when the roles are reversed as well. One of my two sisters lashes out at me constantly and says disproportionately mean things to me that always cuts me to the core. I talked with my other sister about her behavior and she suggested I press our sister’s buttons just because those are her own areas of insecurity and pain, that it isn’t about me at all but really all on her. That’s been freeing.
I think the same is often true of abusers. It really isn’t what the victim is doing, which is why victim-blaming is so far off; it’s about the pain and insecurity in the abuser, who unfortunately learned to cope by inflicting pain and insecurity on others as a result. This is so true of my dad anyway, and my sister is so much like him. Much of his wrath was therefore aimed at her more than my other sister and me, and now it looks as if the cycle of abuse continues. I pray someday my sister sees the truth of this post, that she was never the problem at all but reminded my dad too much of himself.
So true, Kay. It is great to have this insight and be able to give grace to the people in our lives in their hurting moments.
You know what gets me Kay? No matter what others have done to me, it is still my responsibility to get rid of their garbage that I picked up along the way. (I picked up along the way is key). I do not deny all the terrible awful things I did in the past. Yes my choice. I gotta tell you though. I want to say that that is not my Identitiy in Christ. Not sure about that statement as I write but it feels right. My Idenity in Christ is becoming more like Him by ridding myself of the garbage by bringing it to Him by telling others my secrets and shameful stuff. I have known for a while That when I do this it is freeing. What I Am learning now is when I do this with Grace intamcey within my marriage is created. That opens up a pathway to Jesus. Thats what I am talking about! Thanks for sharing your pain.
Thanks for being so transparent. This really rings true.
Wow, I never thought of it that way. I’m going to think differently now when I start to judge someone harshly.
This is an amazing blog post, Sheila! So insightful, and perfectly timed leading into the holidays. I think your thoughts and ideas here will be a blessing on so many families this Christmas! Thank you!
I, too, struggle with judgementalism (is that a word???). I think mine stems from insecurity, as when I judge others choices,mi am making myself feel better about mine! It is a sin that I am constantly wrestling with!
You are right, in that when we are aware of these traits or tendencies within ourselves, we an work on becoming more Christ-like, and giving grace to others, the way He has given grace to us.
Thank you so much for writing this post. It really helped me understand that I still carry pain. Your blog has been such a blessing to our marriage and family! Thanks Sheila
I’m glad you found it helpful, Charlotte!
My post apparently went to the Russians yesterday. My computer was behind my key strokes. Too much to type over again but the gist was how freeing it is to get rid of our secrets. Glad you shared this with us Sheila. Have a great weekend.
Great insight, but it goes even further: to our own regrets.
For example I am judgemental about people who are cavalier with their relationships with their elderly relatives, because I’ll never really forgive myself for not making much effort with my own grandmother whilst she was still here. More judgemental about that than about hurts done to me where I’m blameless.
Oh, that’s so true, too! I think it’s just so important to see anger and judgmentalism as the symptom, quite often, of something deeper, and then take that opportunity to examine what’s deeper, whatever it is. That’s really what God wants us to deal with–not the problem with the other person!
Oof! – that hit a little too close to home!! Thanks for the rattling.
I think the fine line where I battle is feeling like not acknowledging on some level that something is “off kilter” is sending a message of support regarding X behavior/situation; that we’re choosing apathy rather than recognizing we have work to do to. There’s a place for opinions, for grief and righteous anger (as Susanna mentioned above), but how to differentiate, because doesn’t it all stem from some dualistic inner conviction around “right/wrong”, “holy/unholy”…?
I want to live out of a place of grace, but often I wonder if I’m not closer to becoming the doormat of “tolerance”.
(Ironically, my name means “grace” and I have it tattooed on my wrist as a constant reminder of my heart’s deepest desire. Funny how our deepest desire is often our deepest battle lol)
I totally get that. I’m not a big one on “tolerance”, either, and I do think that within the church we need much more of a call to come back to living as Jesus did, and to sanctification (meaning that the Christian life should actually demonstrate real fruit!).
I think for me the difference is that we can expect that from fellow believers, but we really shouldn’t when people aren’t believers. That’s where we need grace. And within our families–well, I guess that’s just where we need to pray for healing, too!
And my biggest relational struggle makes SO much more sense now!! 😱😱😱 Now to figure out how to actually deal with it… Thanks, Sheila!
You’re welcome! 🙂