Judge Not…

A few months ago, I wrote a post called “A Whole New World” about some of the problems I perceive with the position of the Church in the American society. These thoughts portray a difficult side of my current home country. But that’s not all there is to this multi-faceted place, and today I’m reflecting on one of its positive sides: the encouragement and inspiration I have drawn from America that I might not have learned anywhere else…

This country has a lot of problems, maybe more right now than at any other time. I liken it to a dysfunctional, loud, and often selfish family that most of the time can’t help themselves. But where I would have carelessly judged their imperfection in the past and pointed out how much more perfect and tidier and modest my native country of Switzerland is, I have slowly started to notice changes in me since living here that have made me rethink my evaluation. (Don’t worry, Switzerland – you might always be tidier and more modest…)

You should obviously not put a country in a box any more than individual people, but there are tendencies and mindsets and ways of life that are worth mentioning despite the risk of generalizing. I have discovered a beautiful heart in this dysfunctional and messy family that is the USA. I found a culture that encourages me to be myself. A culture that hopes for the best and, sometimes because of that, manages to bring out exactly that in people. America is a country where it is still possible to dream, because if you dream big and fall on your face, people applaud you for trying and encourage you to try again. And while there is often an unhealthy need to shine and win in this culture, it also comes with the willingness to see the potential in others, which turns this seemingly selfish attitude into something more winsome.

I used to shake my head in disbelief when hearing the constant “you can do this!”, “you’re awesome!” and “you can be anything you want” being exclaimed to my kids by enthusiastic teachers from when they were preschoolers all the way to middle school. As a level-headed Swiss, I found these exclamations, which of course were said to every kid regardless of their actual skills or personalities, to be hyperboles that might prevent my kids from remaining their unassuming little Swiss selves (my Swiss family might agree that they’re not completely unassuming anymore…). But guess what, dear reader – today, I’m noticing that my kids are starting into their lives believing that the world is a canvas they are meant to put their positive imprint on, and that despite their imperfections, they are unique personalities worth being loved. I will take almost any hyperbole if it results in this.

The ability to encourage is not the only characteristic of this culture. Despite political and religious divisions, I see in the people around me an honest desire to accept one another. In this culture’s brokenness actually lies an authenticity and an audacious hope that one day, we might all just be ourselves in front of each other, and love one another for it. America’s relentless push for diversity and its willingness to admit its faults in the process are part of what make my heart go out for this crazy, ridiculous, loving family.

My circle of friends used to be very homogenous. This was partially because Switzerland is not as cosmopolitan as other places on the map, but the more honest reason is that I was either afraid of or prejudiced toward people who were really different from me. Far from the attitude of Jesus, I convinced myself that it was better not to be friends with people who thought this or did that. It was safer to live in my little bubble and judge from a distance. Unfortunately, my interpretation of Christianity gave a wonderful excuse for this behavior, since obviously everybody who wasn’t like us was either into drinking, drugs and sex, or at least into using bad language and watching stuff on TV that a respectable Christian never would. Of course I had no idea what the people outside my circle were actually doing, but my little “religious conscience” made me feel justified for never finding out.

A lot has changed since then (thank God!), mainly because my understanding of faith has grown to include the idea of God actually loving people, as in loving all people. But it took another piece of enlightenment before I could actually start being a nice person to the people around me: the realization that God loves people not despite of who they are, but He loves them as they are.

If I try to love my neighbor or co-worker despite their faults or shortcomings, I will always, to some degree, look down on them; My “love” for them will be alms, distributed from my high horse of righteousness. I will pray for them to become more like me, I mean, Jesus, and as long as they don’t change, disappointment will be part of our relationship. Of course, it all works rather subconsciously, but the poison is effective, nonetheless.

This is not how Jesus loves. He doesn’t roll His eyes every time we miss the mark and then ticks off one more act of forgiveness toward us. Rather, I imagine Him looking at us like someone looks at their spouse-to-be on their wedding day. The last thing we think about on that day is the imperfection of the one we love. Jesus looks at us like this every day, as if love actually did cover a multitude of sins. He hopes the best for us, He enjoys our reality with us, and in His love He deeply accepts all of us.

Could anyone not want to live like that? The price to pay is that we have to jump off our high horse and believe that we don’t have all the answers as to how God wants people to live. I’m not saying that everybody should just do whatever they want and hurt whomever in the process. But what I have come to believe – and hear me out, dear reader – is that the prejudices and judgments we hold are not mainly about how people treat others. They’re about how we perceive other people’s lifestyles, moral choices and beliefs they uphold. And those judgements from us are based on a mindset we have created through our upbringing, our churches, and the different political opinions we subscribe to. This means that our judgments are always subjective, and we would do good to remember they likely don’t match Jesus’ words toward that person.

Whenever I encounter someone who does or says something I think is wrong, I have several choices of how to react. I can attack, blame, confront. I can take the so-called biblical approach and “love the sinner, hate the sin” (in which case I still judge). On the other hand, I can think, I don’t care, it’s not my life, and walk away without my heart getting involved.

None of these approaches really lead to love. Our stuff and our messes, our missing the mark, are all part of our identity. You can’t have us without our brokenness. So, God takes the whole package and loves us not despite but because of the glorious, beautiful mess we are. With this, He also creates the only way real change can take place.

If I truly accept a person for who they are, with no expectation for them to get their act together, I have just given them the freedom to try just that. It’s the opposite approach to the common notion among Christians that I have to point out someone’s sins, so they can repent and change. Doing that is like slamming a door in their face and potentially throwing away any relationship currency I have earned with them. On the other hand, if that person feels unconditionally loved by me, he or she might then dare to let God change them inside the safety of our relationship.

Sometimes we do need to use our relationship currency to have a difficult conversation. But before that happens, we need to be sure our motives have nothing to do with our own pride, opinions and judgements. When done right, such a conversation is always one of hope, respect and a wish to see my counterpart thrive.

Marriage is a powerful picture of this. Nobody truly, fully knows their spouse when they get married. We have some idea and lots of hope for the future, but nobody has any guarantee that their spouse will stay the same or even turn out to be who we envisioned them to be. In this sense, marriage is a huge act of trust. I’m basically saying, “I will be on your side, no matter who you turn out to be. Your shortcomings will not be judged but covered by my love. Your weaknesses will be met with my hope and encouragement for the future. Your imperfections are part of what I said yes to.” And that environment of trust and safety are exactly where change for the better will take place, because I don’t have to change, I get to change.

My husband has extended this amazing attitude of trust and unconditional love toward me for the past 13 years, and the depth of change it has created in my life might be reason to stop writing right now and go run around the house for joy. You might just imagine who I used to be, but I know!

America keeps being an astonishingly dysfunctional family. But, together with my husband, it has also helped me grow to be a less judgmental, more compassionate and positive person. And with all the challenges this family is facing and all the mistakes it is making, compassion might be just the thing that is needed – and, come to think of it, maybe not just for America, but for any place people call home.