Do Not Judge
Summary
When researchers asked a thousand people to describe Christians in three words, the top answer wasn't loving or faithful. It was judgmental. Working through Matthew 7:1–6, Dominic Jackson takes one of Jesus' most familiar — and most misused — teachings and asks what he actually meant. Why are we unqualified to judge? What is the fundamental attribution error doing to the way we see other people? And what does it mean that the plank and the speck are made of the same wood? This sermon doesn't resolve the tension between judging and being judgmental — that's next week — but it does ask a harder question first: whose log is in whose eye?
Questions for reflection
The survey found that the first word most non-Christians associate with Christians is "judgmental." Does that surprise you? How do you think Gateway specifically would be described by people in your neighborhood?
Dominic describes the fundamental attribution error — giving yourself grace for the same behavior you judge in others. Where do you see that pattern most clearly in your own life?
Jesus notes that both the plank and the speck are made of wood. Where is there a connection between something that drives you crazy about someone else and something you struggle with yourself?
The sermon suggests that the teachings of Jesus work better as a mirror than binoculars — meaning they're easier to point at others than to turn on yourself. Which part of this passage do you most want to hand to someone else?
William Barclay says the weakness of the church lies not in a lack of Christian arguments but in a lack of Christian lives. What would it look like this week to live your faith rather than argue it?
Who is someone you have appointed yourself judge over — going beyond having an opinion to actually condemning them in a way that only belongs to God?
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Years ago, I had just gotten out of a church service. I was a brand-new youth pastor, walking through the parking lot to my car — a luxury vehicle, a bright orange Saturn SUV. If you remember Saturns, before they were all taken off the road.
As I was walking toward it, I saw someone leaning against it. Even though he looked like he had aged fifteen years in the four since I'd last seen him, I recognized him immediately. It was Justin — a kid whose family lived behind the church parking lot. We'd had plenty of run-ins over the years. I'd had to call the cops on him a couple of times, and yet we always had this strange, genuine affection for each other.
I asked if he'd been to the service. He laughed and said, not there yet — one step at a time. Then he reached into his pocket and showed me a coin. Three months sober, he told me — while chain-smoking cigarettes and downing black coffee from a 7-Eleven. Last I'd heard, Justin had been living in a riverbed, deep in a heroin addiction. But here he was. He looked good.
Before I could congratulate him or get his number or ask anything else, I heard a nasally voice a few rows behind us. An older woman — fanny pack, sweater, springtime in Southern California — called out to us. I'd never met her, though I'd seen her in church.
"You boys should know better. At church, of all places."
I had no idea what she was talking about. She wasn't done.
"What would Pastor Chris think? What would the Lord think?"
And then she started rattling off Bible verses — about the flesh, about harmful desires, about our bodies being temples. I realized she was talking about Justin smoking cigarettes. And apparently I was guilty by proximity or secondhand smoke.
Before I could respond, she turned and walked away — probably to email the pastor, the sheriff, or Jesus directly if she had his contact information.
I tried to make a joke, lighten the mood, remind Justin that kicking heroin made caffeine and nicotine relatively small problems. But the tone had changed. I don't remember how we said goodbye. I never saw Justin again. I couldn't tell you what the sermon was about that day or where I drove afterward. But I have never forgotten the look on that woman's face.
What People Think of Us
A poll conducted at a mall in Seattle asked a thousand random shoppers to describe various groups in three words — Boy Scouts, teachers, veterinarians, dog breeders. And then Christians.
A percentage — probably mostly Christians themselves — used words like welcoming, loving, faithful. Some were indifferent: religious, traditional, organized. But the majority went in a different direction.
The top three words used to describe Christians:
Number three: homophobic, hateful, bigoted — all variations on the same theme.
Number two: hypocrites.
Number one — the first word that came to mind for most people when asked to describe followers of Jesus:
Judgmental.
Does that surprise you? Is it accurate? Are we picturing a different church — maybe the one our parents or grandparents attended, or the version of Christianity that gets covered in the news? Maybe a combination. But the better question might be: what does Jesus think of his church? Are we too judgmental? Not judgmental enough? Are we judging the wrong things?
Because there are plenty of verses that say judgment is above our pay grade. And there are plenty of other verses that seem to say the church should speak more boldly, have more opinions, call out sin more directly. So which is it?
That's where we're going this morning.
[Prayer]
Five Reasons Not to Judge
We're in Matthew 7:1–6, part of the Sermon on the Mount — and today's one another command comes directly from Jesus: do not judge one another.
The good news about preaching a sermon on not judging is that if it goes terribly, you can't say anything — that would be judgmental. The pressure is really off.
Let me read the passage one more time before we move through it:
"Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye. Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces."
We live in a relentlessly judgmental culture — TV shows built around it, Amazon reviews, YouTube comment sections where people judge the video, then judge each other for judging the video. Judging is so normal we barely notice it anymore. And not all of it is wrong — I judge avocados for ripeness. I judge whether to change the radio station. If you're driving in front of me on the freeway, I'm probably judging that too.
So when is judging wrong? Let's look at the text.
1. It's Not Our Job
"Do not judge, or you too will be judged."
If we are going to be judged, what does that tell us about our position? It means we're not the judge. We can't be both sinners and the sin police. That is above our pay grade.
Looking at much of the church today, you'd think the Great Commission read: Go therefore into all the world and judge it, making moral disciples. But that's not the instruction we have. Sin and salvation and morality belong to God. People belong to us — to love.
I've never liked the expression "love the sinner, hate the sin." The sin we're most passionate about hating is almost always someone else's. Sin is God's to hate. People are ours to love.
2. We're Unqualified
"For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged."
Imagine a corrupt judge who's on trial at 10 a.m. for taking bribes. At 1 p.m., you go before that same judge for your own trial. You'd say — rightfully — that he's not qualified to judge you. He can't even follow the law himself.
When it comes to the law of Scripture, there is only one who is qualified to judge. Remember the woman caught in adultery? Jesus says: Whoever is without sin, cast the first stone. No stones are thrown. Same logic applies here: whoever is without sin, be the first to judge.
3. Our Measuring Sticks Are Broken
"With the measure you use, it will be measured to you."
This is not a cosmic karma equation — be nice and Jesus is nice to you. We've all fallen short. Jesus lived a perfectly sinless life and suffered the worst death. No, this is a mirror held up to how distorted our measuring of other people actually is. It's the original check yourself before you wreck yourself.
Psychologists call it the fundamental attribution error — the gap between the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves versus the stories we tell about others.
When I don't return my shopping cart to the corral, I tell myself: It's been a long day. I do so much for other people. This one time is fine. When I see someone else leave their cart in the middle of the lot, I think: How lazy can you be? The corral is five steps away.
I know nothing about that person. For myself: mercy and grace. For them: judgment and assumptions.
And that's just about shopping carts. Don't even get me started on theology.
Greg Boyd puts it plainly: "You can't love and judge at the same time. It is impossible to ascribe unsurpassable worth to others when you're using others to ascribe worth to yourself."
4. It's Hard to See Through Planks
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?"
Here's something I find fascinating: the plank and the speck are made of the same material. Both wood.
And isn't that often how it goes? The thing I judge most harshly in other people is frequently the thing I secretly struggle with most myself. How many public scandals have involved the loudest moral voices — the celebrity pastor, the politician who built a platform on calling out a particular sin — being caught committing the exact same thing behind closed doors? The part of you that judges other people's sin is also the part of you that carries your own.
The teachings of Jesus work much better as a mirror than as binoculars. So many times I've heard a sermon or read an article and immediately thought: I know exactly who needs to hear this. And that person is rarely me.
A good place to start is always with the plank in our own eye.
5. More Sharing, Less Comparing — Because Some Won't Receive It
"Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs."
This is a strange passage, and worth admitting that upfront. Jesus is taking two common Jewish idioms and combining them — a bit like if I said, "Why did the chicken cross the road? Because he was barking up the wrong tree." The combination is odd, but the point is clear. Drawing on Philippians 3, Proverbs 26, and 2 Peter, the images of dogs and pigs here are associated with those whose hearts are hardened to God and those who distort truth. What most scholars believe Jesus is saying is this: not everyone will receive it well when you point out the speck in their eye. And even if you've removed your own plank first, some people won't recognize or receive the grace you're pointing toward. They may even become hostile.
William Barclay, who spent much of his life as a theologian in one of the most secular corners of Scotland, wrote: "It is often almost impossible to talk to someone about Jesus Christ. Their insensitiveness, their moral blindness, their intellectual pride and cynical mockery may make them impervious to words about Christ. But it is always possible to show men Christ. The weakness of the church lies not in a lack of Christian arguments, but in a lack of Christian lives."
We have no shortage of Christian arguments right now. No shortage of Christian debates or Christian judges. But what transforms the world are Christian lives — lives submitted to the way of King Jesus.
What About Non-Christians?
So much frustration and pain on both sides comes from Christians expecting non-Christians to act like Christians. To follow the same beliefs and practices, without any of what led to those beliefs and practices.
But think about what that expectation implies about your view of Jesus. If someone who has experienced the life-changing grace and forgiveness of Christ looks exactly like someone who was just guilted into compliance — what does that say about the power of what you claim to believe?
Keep sharing. Keep pointing upward. Keep loving. Keep walking alongside people. But don't take the place of Jesus and judge those who don't yet know him.
The Unresolved Tension
Now — what about the brother or sister? Jesus does say we should help others remove specks from their eyes. He says that. There's a proactive responsibility implied there. And there are plenty of other passages that call us to speak truth to each other, to pursue reconciliation, to call each other toward more. What if someone in the faith is hurting themselves, going in the wrong direction, or hurting someone else? Aren't we supposed to say something?
Jesus even says in John 7:24: "Do not judge by mere appearances, but judge with right judgment."
So which is it? When do we stay quiet and mind our own planks? When do we speak? What's the difference between judging and being judgmental?
That's next week.
In the Meantime
This week, sit with these questions:
Who have I judged unfairly — going beyond having a thought or an opinion, and appointing myself as Lord over someone else's soul?
Where are my blind spots? Where is the plank I keep not seeing, because it's the biggest one?
Is there a connection between what drives me crazy about someone else and something I struggle with myself?
And how might I live out my faith this week, rather than argue about it?