94: A Non-Judging Presence
If you already receive my monthly letter, The Re{collection} then you know that since January, I have been substitute teaching in my local school district. Quick side note: If you aren’t signed up for The Re{collection}, well, you’re welcome to do so! Consider this an invitation. The next letter will go out in just a couple days (if you’re listening in real time), because per usual, I send it straight to you at the end of each month. I’ll share more about how to add your email to the list in the tag of this episode, if you’re interested. {CLICK HERE to sign up!}
Anyway, yes, I have been substitute teaching the past few months. And in general, it’s been a pretty good experience. I’ve mostly been testing the waters a bit, figuring out which schools and which grades are the best fit. And slowly but surely, I think I’m beginning to get the hang of it.
While each grade and school certainly has its own particular nuance, one thing has stood out to me about early elementary classes—kindergarten, first grade, maybe some second grade. That particular age group absolutely loves to point out when someone else has done or is doing something wrong. The classic tattletale.
Whenever I find myself in a young elementary classroom, I can pretty much guarantee that I will have multiple students come up to me and let me know that so-and-so said a mean thing. Or wasn’t following directions. Or was refusing to share. I’m telling you, I can count on this nearly constant reporting all throughout the day.
Now, there is a variety of reasons why this happens. For some children, they are simply learning how to navigate the rules, and their snitching is honestly pretty innocent. For others, they think that tattling on a classmate will win the approval and attention of the teacher, ultimately boosting their own self-esteem. And still for others, there is an element of revenge in their motivation. On rare occasions, they are driven by actual concern for the well-being of the student and the class as a whole.
As you probably know, for the most part, children usually outgrow this phase and by the time they get to middle school, they actually tend toward the opposite—often covering for their friends and definitely not wanting to rat anyone out.
But even still, I think the heart behind a tattletale sticks with us to a certain degree. Even into adulthood. We might not tell on someone with our out-loud voice (though there is most definitely a time and place for that, especially when someone’s safety and well-being is at risk); instead, at least in my experience, we have an inner tattletale of sorts. And that inner tattletale often makes us very quick to judge. Here’s what I mean:
Someone might worship God differently than we do, and we judge.
Someone might think or vote different than we do, and we judge.
Someone might act in a way we aren’t comfortable with, and we judge.
Someone might live in an area we aren’t familiar with, and we judge.
Someone might appear a certain way and based on that appearance, we stereotype, we assume, and we judge.
If we’re being honest, we all know the sharp sting of judgement in some way, shape, or form. The way it makes us feel small. And ridiculed. And misunderstood. And yet at the same time, we’ve all cast many a judging eye. Quite frankly, it’s kind of a part of our nature. As my professor Keas Keasler once shared, “We judge as naturally as we breathe.” Even so, that doesn’t mean passing judgement is what we’re called to as followers of Jesus.
Believe it or not, the judgements we make influence and inform the people we become. So they are worth considering, worth paying attention to, worth being honest about.
We find the call to non-judgement many times in Jesus’ ministry and teaching. For instance, in Matthew 7:1-4, we read:
“Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. 2 For the judgment you give will be the judgment you get, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. 3 Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye but do not notice the log in your own eye? 4 Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while the log is in your own eye?”
Or, there’s the story in John 8, when Jesus is confronted by a crowd who discovered a woman caught in adultery. They ask Jesus if they should stone her, as the law commanded. And Jesus offers this reply:
“Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”
One by one, the crowd dissipates, until all who are left are Jesus and the woman. And Jesus, who had every right to throw a stone, who had every right to judge, instead chooses mercy and compassion, letting the woman go, giving her another chance.
These are just a couple examples, but clearly, we are not called to pass judgement. And yet, if you’re like me, that is much easier said than done. So what are we to do instead?
While I don’t have a straightforward “how-to” to share with you, and while this is an ongoing struggle in my own life, there are a few invitations I’ve found helpful and important to keep in mind as we seek to embody a non-judging presence.
The first invitation is to be curious. In a season one episode of the show Ted Lasso, there’s a scene where Ted quotes Walt Whitman, saying, “Be curious, not judgmental.” Now, super quick side note: after a little bit of research, it’s not certain that that quote can actually be attributed to Walt Whitman, and it’s actually unclear who originally wrote or said it. Nonetheless, I think it’s a good one. So often, we forget that there is almost always more to the story of a person. Almost always things we can learn and ways we can relate. And there are always good and kind questions to ask. But choosing to judge shuts all of it down. Slams the door. Judgement creates distance while curiosity fosters connection. As we seek to live in non-judgement, curiosity is a good place to start.
The second invitation is to love. Mother Teresa wisely noted that “if you judge people, you have no time to love them.” And while Jesus does not call us to judge our neighbor, he absolutely calls us to love our neighbor. And so rather than building up all these preconceived notions in our minds and hearts, we choose to see and love each person as they are—made in the image of God. We choose to tell ourselves a better, truer tale by recognizing their value and treating them accordingly. Even if we don’t agree. Even if we don’t understand. Even though we don’t know the whole story. We assume the best in others and we choose to love generously.
The third invitation is to trust. And what I mean by that is, we can trust God-at-work. In our own lives, yes, but also in the lives of others. Even if we can’t really see it or measure it initially; we can trust it. Because the truth is, we are all in process.
Each time I went to Kansas for the residencies of my master’s program, there was a tree we could see from one of the windows in the chapel. My friend Carissa pointed it out to us the first time we were there, and each time I visited, I paid attention to this tree. The first time I saw it, it was barren, bare branches and not much to show. The second time, there were little tiny buds, signs of new life to come. The third time, it’s leaves were turning golden brown, preparing to fall off, one by one. And the fourth time, it was in full bloom, bright green and flourishing.
Similar to how a tree looks different depending on the season, each person we meet and interact with is in a particular season. We only see one season, one chapter, of a person at any given time. Again, each person is in process. You, me, the ones we love, the ones that drive us crazy, and the ones we don’t even know. It’s a process that can’t be rushed. And it’s a process that looks different for each of us. And ultimately, we are not in control of that process; God is. And only God has a big enough perspective to judge perfectly. We can trust God’s process for each of us, and we can trust God’s perspective for all of us.
When we choose non-judgement, we are choosing the way of Jesus. And when we remember and follow the way of Jesus, we are on the way to becoming the people God calls us to be. Now none of this happens overnight, obviously. It’s something we must practice and be intentional about, probably for a lot longer than we anticipate. It’s a process :)
Today, as you come across and live alongside all sorts of different people, remember to be a non-judging presence. May we choose to tell a better, truer tale. May we choose to be curious. May we choose to love. And may we choose to trust as we seek to be the people God calls us to be.