Jesus lived under the microscope.
Luke 6:7 describes the intensity of the situation:
“The Pharisees and the teachers of the law were looking for a reason to accuse Jesus.”
Throughout Luke 6, the religious leaders are rubbernecking to catch Jesus making a mistake. Yet Jesus’ reminds His disciples that the kingdom of God doesn’t expand through the work of religious paparazzi.
Welcome to Day 5 of The 40-Day #LentChallenge: Luke and Acts. It’s not too late to join us.
(NOTE: Click here to download a FREE one-page reading guide of Luke and Acts. or upgrade to the downloadable ebook called The 40-Day Live Lent Challenge: A Color Method Study for Luke-Acts for only $8.99. This 200-plus page booklet includes: a welcome letter, the reading plan, instructions on how to use the Color Bible Study Method, ideas on how to get the most from your study, creative artwork, and space to journal and doodle.)
Perhaps that’s one reason Jesus goes on to tell us that things aren’t as they appear.
Those who receive blessings and woes aren’t who you’d expect (Luke 6:20-26).
The great law isn’t judgment but love.
Love deep.
Love hard.
Love anyway.
That’s how Jesus loved. Just like His Father.
In today’s Lent reading of Luke 6, I reflect on our central question:
What do I most need to hear but least want to hear?
Three words pop from today’s reading:
Do. Not. Judge.
Let me be clear. The call not to judge doesn’t mean making yourself subject abusive behavior or overlooking illegal or repetitive acts that cause harm to ourselves or others.
Rather it’s a call to recognize the cost of judgment in my life and my relationships.
Jesus instructs.
“Do not judge, and you will not be judged.” (Luke 6:37)

A few years ago my friend Jonathan Merritt once observed, “The core issue with judgment is that it cuts you off from those you judge.”
Judgment slams a door.
Judgment builds a brick wall.
Judgment barricades the road.
Until we are cut off from the other person.
Cut off from their story.
Cut off from their strengths.
Cut off from compassion.
Cut off from the opportunity to learn.
Cut off from the possibility of growth and maturity.
Cut off from effective prayers on their behalf.
Cut off from the redemptive work God is doing in their lives.
Perhaps that’s one reason Jesus is adamant:
Do. Not. Judge. And. You. Will. Not. Be. Judged.
Do. Not. Condemn. And. You. Will. Not. Be. Condemned.
The heavy hidden cost of judging is that you don’t just cut them off, you cut yourself off from the greater story God is working.
Years ago, I worked with a writer named Sarah. Her writing was divisive, toxic, and sexualized. She was far more interested in reaction than interaction, ratings than healthy dialogue. I pulled back from our professional relationship, because of discomfort and the vitriolic nature of her work.
I judged her. And in the process, I cut myself off from her story, her growth, her maturity. Since then, she’s grown as a writer and communicator to become a powerful voice of someone raising hard issues in the church, offering a fresh perspective and crafting breathtaking prose.
In forgiving, I’ve grown.
I’ve rediscovered the power of becoming a student, not a critic.
(Thanks Andy Stanley for that unforgettable teaching.)
Today, I’m asking Jesus, who else in my life have I judged? Who else have cut myself off from?
Father,
Forgive me for my judgments—verified and vilified, snap and solid. Help me to forgive and seek forgiveness. Give me wisdom grace to recognize that everyone is someone you love. Everyone I lock eyes with is someone you want to redeem.
Amen.







