“We didn’t do it — honest!”
They may not have personally ripped the arms off the living room chairs, but the destruction lay on the floor of their apartment. Signs of rough-housing were strewn about for all to see.
And four drunk college boys, who should have been studying or better yet sleeping because it was finals week stood before me passing the buck, looking incredibly guilty and seeing the destructive results of excessive drinking.
It was an experience that I had forgotten until this week when my sister-in-law sent me color copies of photos she took while we lived together as college roommates. In one photo I am wearing the very robe I wore that night in 1980 when I was a resident advisor hired by the owners of a dorm-style apartment complex to help young students manage their lives as they attended college.
Two muffled thuds against my bedroom wall had yanked me out of a deep sleep and led me to their apartment directly next door. As I stood there I faced the most unpleasant task I could imagine: assessing a situation I had not eyewitnessed and policing under-aged drinkers who knew better.
With conversation, the situation was diffused. The roommates went to bed, took their exams and paid to have their furniture repaired. It is an experience I will always remember because it was the first time I was asked to assess a situation and react with a judgement that carried some weight. Not only did I learn during that era of my life that I had to assess the flood of new ideas professors handed me, but I also had to respond to a myriad of human trials that came to my attention as the kids on my floor shared their sometimes complicated life experiences with me. One resident, who battled leukemia using non-medical approaches, died while visiting her family during spring break. The devastation felt by her roommates placed all of us in the unenviable position of questioning whether she and her family had approached her cancer treatment in the best way possible.
I learned that I must make daily judgments and over the years I have learned that both the accuracy and the fairness of my judgments bear directly on how close I am to God.
Utter the word “judgment” and a conversation can stall with tension. And yet, we cannot walk through life without making judgments. Whom do I trust with my investments? Which car agency has the most reliable repair division? Might the dirt-crusted tires and rims of the truck indicate that the kids went off-roading when they told us they planned to go see Men in Black II? Has my child’s teacher accurately and fairly graded his performance? With whom do I share my most treasured or sacred secrets? Whom do I date? Which supplier will give me the best product for the best price?
Jesus did say a word or two about judgments. Perhaps his best-known comments can be found in the book of Matthew where he says, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.” Contrary to this oft-quoted remark, I believe it is unjust criticism Christ speaks about here, not the admonition to never judge at all. And if you read a bit further, you will notice that there are some rules about judging we must faithfully employ.
Begin by asking yourself: How am I managing my own life? Am I making good choices? Am I ignoring personal issues that need attention? Am I spending energy making judgments about issues that have no bearing on my life?
Continue by asking yourself: Am I approaching this situation with logic and compassion? Are my conclusions based on what God has to say or what feels better, is self-serving, or convenient? Am I genuinely concerned about this person? Do I have an understanding or a skill that can help this situation?
Honestly answering these questions may change the way we approach situations and assess the people in our lives. And making prayer a part of every judgment, asking God to make His presence obvious, to work and enlighten those involved will surely create wonderful and surprising results: like more interest and more understanding. More energy to get involved when help is requested and more patience when a situation is bigger that we understood it to be at the beginning.
These days I am still making judgments in my bathrobe as I parent teenagers. With increasing frequency I find I must make swift and fair judgements that affect both the kids and our family dynamics. Thank goodness God knows where we are and cares for the concerned and the judged.
Contact freelance writer Joan Bay Klope at jbklope@
hotmail.com
