“Stop judging me.”
That phrase has become a cultural commandment. Even among Christians, it’s repeated like gospel truth — a reflexive defense whenever behavior is challenged or beliefs are scrutinized. The idea is simple and appealing: Only God can judge. And often, Matthew 7:1 is quoted as the ultimate rebuttal to any form of critique — “Judge not, that you be not judged.”
But that verse, torn from its context, has become one of the most misused lines in the Bible. It was never meant to shut down all forms of judgment. Jesus was not telling His followers to turn off discernment or pretend that sin doesn’t exist. He was warning against a certain kind of judgment — the kind that’s hypocritical, harsh, and self-righteous. He condemned the habit of focusing on other people’s faults while ignoring your own. In the very same passage, He says, “First take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.” That’s not a call to stay silent. It’s a call to judge rightly.
In fact, throughout the New Testament, Christians are not only permitted to judge one another — they are commanded to. But it must be done carefully, with humility, and always for the good of the one being judged.
The Apostle Paul couldn’t be clearer about this. When writing to the church in Corinth, he says, “Are you not to judge the church?” (1 Corinthians 5:12). That was a church that had grown passive in the face of sin — they were tolerating immorality in the name of grace. Paul rebukes them. Why? Because judgment among believers is necessary. Without it, sin festers. Without it, the church loses its witness. Without it, individual Christians would stop growing.
That idea alone is worth sitting with. The judgment of other Christians, when done rightly, is one of the very tools God uses to grow us. It’s not punishment — it’s correction. It’s not condemnation — it’s coaching. When a Christian speaks truth into another’s life, especially when it’s uncomfortable, that is one of the most loving things they can do. It’s a safeguard against drift. It’s a push toward holiness.
But we are not good at this anymore. The modern church, especially in the West, is saturated with the language of tolerance, inclusion, and non-judgment. Any form of confrontation is labeled “toxic,” any form of correction is called “spiritual abuse,” and any reference to sin is seen as a personal attack. So, instead of lovingly challenging one another to grow, we tiptoe around truth, afraid to offend. In doing so, we deprive one another of the very accountability that Scripture insists on.
It’s no surprise, then, that so many Christians live stagnant, shallow, morally confused lives. They’ve shut the door to one of God’s primary instruments of growth: the honest judgment of fellow believers. Instead of welcoming correction, they resent it. Instead of listening, they accuse. And yet they wonder why they’re stuck.
The truth is that God uses the judgment of others to sanctify us.
Let it be said plainly — if you cannot take the judgment of other Christians, you are not open to real spiritual formation. You are shutting your ears to the people God has placed around you for your good. You are resisting the work of the Holy Spirit, who often speaks through the mouths of others.
This refusal has consequences for everyone. Brothers and sisters in Christ who won’t judge each other breed the tolerance of compromise. That kind of shallowness blunts our prophetic duty.
Of course, none of this means that we should be harsh, arrogant, or eager to point fingers. Christians are called to judge with the same grace they’ve received — not out of superiority. “If someone is caught in a sin,” Paul says in Galatians 6:1, “you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently.” The one doing the judging must do it with a sober awareness of his own weakness. There’s no room for pride. No room for smugness. The goal is always restoration, never humiliation.
So judgment is not the opposite of love — it is one of its hardest forms. And that’s why it’s so often avoided. Real love confronts. It challenges. It warns. It says, “This path you’re on will destroy you. I’ve been there. Turn back.” The world calls that judgmental. The Bible calls it wisdom.
There’s no easy way to say this: If you want to grow, you must learn to be judged and to judge well.
One day, every believer will stand before the judgment seat of Christ. And on that day, we will give account — not just for our sins, but for our silence. For the times we saw our brother drifting and said nothing. For the moments we chose convenience over truth.
The Christian life is not a game. It is a war. And in that war, judgment is not cruelty — it is strategy. It is how we fight, not with one another, but for one another.
So judge and be judged — with humility, with love, and with truth. This is how we grow. This is how we stay faithful. And this is how we, the church, become the holy people God meant it to be.