A Confession & Apology

I can be a very judgmental person. I kinda realized this yesterday, actually. I walked up to a teammate who was reading a book and asked her what she was reading. She quickly, nervously replied, “It’s not a Christian book.” (All of my teammates know I read a lot of Christian books and have strong convictions regarding modern entertainment and media.) I responded, “Okay, but what is it?” She explained that it was a fiction mystery book and that she felt like she had the right to read it because God made some things that she was supposed to just enjoy, and she just wanted to enjoy her book. I awkwardly just told her I agreed and walked away a little confused. I then picked up my Christian book and started reading it, but I couldn’t read because I was unsettled by the way my teammate reacted to my question about her book. Why did she assume I was going to judge her for reading a secular book? I wondered.

But then I realized that I very well could imagine myself judging her for reading a secular book. Modern entertainment is so empty and mind-numbing. And we are on the World Race, aren’t we supposed to dedicate every second of our time to the cause of Christ? She’s 29 chapters into that book, just think of all the Kingdom advancement she could have carved out in that much time. Maybe one day she will have stronger convictions. 

I understand this sounds ridiculous—because it is. But that is truly the way I have lived for so long that I don’t even notice myself doing it anymore. 

 

It always makes me think of that verse where Jesus says, “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgement you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.” 

 

Honestly, I never got that. I thought, Okay, so there’s a special place in hell for people that have sticks up their butts? It didn’t make sense to me. But when I noticed the consistent issue I had with judging others, I understood what He meant. 

 

The standard you hold others to is the same standard that you put on yourself. The higher you hold that standard, the more exhausted you become. And I write this with tears: I am exhausted. 

 

I think I’ve expressed amply in my blogs and in my lifestyle my incessant hunger for growth and holiness. Honestly, many people admire that about me. And honestly, I’ve never cared that they admire that about me because I am too busy focusing on all the growth I still have left. I never get hung up on praise because I think it’s a distraction that may cause me to settle.

 

I have turned righteousness into something to be attained through self-discipline, focus, and willpower, and I set my mind towards it, armed with Scripture and podcasts and all of the Christian books. But when I look at the example set in Jesus, I become painfully aware of how unattainable that goal is for me. So when people tell me I’m loving, peaceful, kind, disciplined, mature, or wise, I just laugh in my head. I think it’s sweet that they think that, but I know I am not where I want to be. 

 

Sounds awful, right? It freaking is. 

 

But thank God that He doesn’t think about it this way. Thank God that He is not influenced by my screwed-up, post-fall, “logical”, and honestly demonic reasoning. 

 

“All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Jesus Christ, whom God has put forward as a propitiation (an offering to satisfy one who has been offended) by His blood, to be received by faith.”

 

“Duh,” you say. But don’t “duh” me, because I know many reading this have unconsciously been trapped in the exact same cycle of judgement, but have instead called it “growth” or “self-control” or “discipline” or “speaking the truth in love” or “calling others/yourself higher.” And you say to yourself, How can I love my fellow Christians when they are falling so short of the standard Christ has set? What if, in loving them, I accidentally condone their sinful way of living? Who is going to tell them that what they’re doing is wrong and they aren’t living up to their potential? 

I mean maybe this really is just me and I’m a bigger sinner than all of y’all. But I am tired of it. 

 

Thank God that it isn’t actually my job to maintain anyone’s faith—including my own. Thank God that righteousness came to me because I could never get to it. Thank God that I have died (not “will die” or “am in the process of dying”) with Christ and that it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. That’s a fact. I died when Jesus died. And that was like 2,000 years ago, so there’s nothing I can change about it. Thank God that even if I twist Scripture and unwittingly become a nun holding myself to impossible standards, God doesn’t treat me any differently because the Truth of His love for me doesn’t change. Thank God that He called me “awesome” before I even had a chance to earn the title. 

 

So, honestly, here’s an apology to anyone who has been judged by me when my only real responsibility was to love you the way Christ loves me. 

 

And here’s me forgiving myself. I am a little disappointed with myself for being judgmental, but coming back to a Father who is not disappointed in me because He truthfully never had a high expectation about what I was capable of in the first place. (Which makes me laugh. I don’t know why I take myself so seriously.) 

 

I am learning how to love. Not like Jesus, but with Jesus’s love. I am learning that judgement is God’s. I am learning that people aren’t truly changed by reproof and rebuke; they are changed by grace and tenderness. They are changed when they feel safe around me, when they feel liked and respected by me. 

 

His kindness leads me to repentance, and my kindness can and will lead others to repentance, too. But if I can’t learn to love people for who they are, I still won’t be able to truly love them even when they are where I think they should be. This goes for myself, too. If I can’t learn to receive God’s love because I feel I am unworthy, I am never going to receive it. And God’s love won’t affect me or those around me until I receive it.