This Week's Devo

 Little Judgments

Choosing love over the urge to measure one another

Romans 14 (ESV)

Halloween was just a few days ago, and if you want to see Christians quietly sizing each other up, there may be no better night of the year.

Some families go all out with costumes and candy. Some head to the church trunk-or-treat. Some turn off the porch light and spend the evening at a harvest party. Some skip it entirely and would rather not discuss it.

And somewhere in each of those homes, someone is probably thinking, I can’t believe they let their kids do that.

I’ll be honest. Judgment rarely shows up in my life as a big, dramatic argument. It shows up in the little things. A quiet thought about another mom’s parenting. A raised eyebrow at another dad’s discipline. A silent verdict about someone else’s child and their poor choices. As a homeschooling mom, I’ve felt my share of those raised eyebrows… and if I’m truthful, I’ve raised a few of my own.

Little judgments are easy.

Maybe that’s because, deep down, noticing what someone else isn’t doing well makes us feel a little better about how we’re doing.

Paul knew that temptation well. And in Romans 14, he steps right into the middle of a church that was letting little judgments tear it apart.

The believers in Rome were arguing about food.

Much of the meat sold in a Roman market had passed through a pagan temple first. Jewish believers had grown up with God’s dietary laws, and many Gentile converts had just walked away from idol worship. Some believers had a clear conscience about eating that meat. Others couldn’t touch it without feeling they were compromising their faith, so they ate only vegetables. Some still set apart special days for the Lord. Others treated every day alike.

And instead of working it out in love, they were breaking fellowship over it.

So Paul begins with one word:

“As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions.” — Romans 14:1

The Greek word for welcome, proslambanō, means to receive someone to yourself, to take them in as your own. And Paul uses that same word to wrap up the whole discussion in Romans 15:7: “Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.”

Romans 14 begins and ends with an open door.

Now, Paul is not saying that nothing matters. He has spent thirteen chapters laying out the non-negotiables.

We are all sinners, saved by grace through faith in Jesus, not by our works. Christ died for our sins and was raised to life. And love is the fulfillment of the law.

Those are the things we hold with clenched fists.

But what’s for dinner? Which days we set apart? How we spend October 31st? Those fall within the freedom each believer has to follow the Lord according to their own conscience. Paul says, “Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind” (14:5), and then he points out something we often miss:

“The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord… and the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord” (14:6).

Did you catch that? Both of them are trying to honor God.

The believer you’re tempted to judge may be just as devoted to Jesus as you are. They’re just walking it out differently.

“Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand.” — Romans 14:4

Paul’s word for servant here describes a household servant, someone who answers to the master of the house. And I’ll never be the master of anyone else’s house. Neither will you.

That’s a sobering thought. But it’s also a tender one. The Lord is able to make him stand. My sister in Christ doesn’t need my critique to keep her upright. God is holding her up.

So is He holding me.

Paul has been pressing this truth on us since chapter 2: “In passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things” (2:1). Every one of us is a sinner in need of grace. No one gets to sit on the judge’s bench except One.

“For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God… So then each of us will give an account of himself to God.” — Romans 14:10, 12

Every knee will bow before the same throne. Mine. Yours. The mom whose parenting I questioned. The dad whose discipline I silently critiqued. And notice who each of us will give an account for: himself.

Not my neighbor. Not the family down the street who handles Halloween differently. Me.

When I picture that day, all those little judgments look very small.

Then Paul does something clever. Listen closely to verse 13:

“Therefore let us not pass judgment on one another any longer, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother.” — Romans 14:13

In Greek, “pass judgment” and “decide” are the same word, krinō. Paul is essentially saying, Stop judging one another. If you want to judge something, judge this: how you can keep from tripping your brother.

He takes the gavel out of our hands and turns it around.

The two obstacles Paul names are worth slowing down for. The Dr. David Jeremiah Study Bible explains, “Stumbling block refers to an object one simply does not see in their path. Hindrance refers to an object that is purposefully placed where it will make someone trip and fall.” The second word, skandalon, originally described the trigger of a trap, the stick that held the bait and snapped shut when touched.

One is careless. The other is a trap.

Neither belongs in the path of someone Jesus loves.

This is where everything Paul taught in Romans 13 comes home.

“For if your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love. By what you eat, do not destroy the one for whom Christ died.” — Romans 14:15

The one for whom Christ died. That’s who sits across the table from you. That’s the mom whose parenting you question and the teenager whose choices you’ve written off. Jesus thought they were worth His life.

The Jeremiah study notes explain that destroy “means to tear down or to keep something or someone from reaching its potential.” Paul carries that image even further a few verses later:

“So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding. Do not, for the sake of food, destroy the work of God.” — Romans 14:19–20

Can you see the picture Paul is painting? It’s a house under construction. His word for “upbuilding” comes straight from the language of building a home, and his word for “destroy” means to loosen something, piece by piece, until it falls apart.

And the house? It’s your brother or sister in Christ, the work of God. He is building something beautiful in them.

So every time we interact with one another, we’re either handing Him another brick or quietly pulling one out of the wall.

Now, this doesn’t mean we give up every freedom for the sake of everyone else, or that we carry the weight of everyone else’s spiritual growth on our shoulders. Their walk is between them and the Lord, just like ours is.

But it does mean we hold our freedoms with open hands. We love one another enough to notice when our personal convictions or liberties might become a hindrance to someone else. And when they do, we set them aside, when and where it’s needed, because loving our brother matters more than proving our point.

Paul said it this way to the Galatians: “For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another” (Galatians 5:13).

Freedom is a gift. Love is how we steward it.

Because, as Paul reminds us, “the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (14:17).

So what would change if we let go of the little judgments?

What if, instead of measuring another mom’s parenting, we prayed for her? What if, instead of side-eyeing another family’s convictions, we trusted the Lord to hold them up? What if we spent less energy deciding who’s doing it wrong, and more energy asking how we can help build up what God is building?

Friend, I know how easy those little judgments are. They slip in quietly. They feel harmless. But every one of them keeps our eyes on someone else’s walk instead of on the One we will all bow before.

So today, set down the gavel.

Welcome one another, the way Christ welcomed you.

Hold your freedoms gently, and hold your brothers and sisters even closer.

Because the person you’re tempted to judge is someone Jesus died for.

And God isn’t finished building them yet.

He isn’t finished with you either.