Beneath the Surface
“Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things.”
— Romans 2:1 (ESV)
This week, one theme kept surfacing everywhere I turned, in my own personal development, in my coaching sessions, and in ministry. When the same lesson shows up in three different rooms, I’ve learned to pay attention.
It came to a head on a Friday morning. I was making the short, five-minute commute to my Discipleship Group when the Lord impressed something on my heart: teach the antidote to judgment. Now, bear in mind, I had already built my slides for that morning. I had intentionally left that nugget out. And there I was, five minutes from the door, being handed something new.
If I’m honest, this wasn’t unfamiliar territory, those ad-lib moments where the plan I prepared gives way to the thing I’m actually supposed to say. But here’s what caught me: the very thing I was about to teach , staying open instead of clinging to my own way of seeing , was the exact thing God was asking of me in that truck. I could have gripped my slides tighter. Instead, I had to loosen my hold. And that’s where this whole conversation begins. The posture that disarms judgment in others is the same posture we have to practice on ourselves first.
Let’s Have the Judgment Conversation
Think with me for a moment. What is that feeling you get when someone new walks into the room and they look different than you? Or when someone does something differently than you would? Or when another person believes or responds to life in a way that doesn’t match your own?
If you’re like most people, a quiet sense of unfamiliarity sets in. We instinctively scan for what’s opposite in them, the mismatch.
In other words: judgment is turning a difference into a verdict. We notice that someone isn’t like us, and instead of staying curious, we decide that different means less — less right, less worthy, less welcome.
Here’s the trap. The less we actually know about a person, the more freely we fill in the blanks with a false narrative. And there’s a deeper danger still: the judgment we aim outward at others quietly reveals what’s happening inward, in our own hearts. The more judgment we carry, the less love is able to flow out of us.
That’s the mirror Paul holds up in Romans 2:1. When I pass judgment on another, I’m often condemning the very things I’m guilty of myself. The finger I point outward has three pointing back.
The Antidote: Understand People
The antidote is simple, but it isn’t easy. It’s this: understand people.
First, Seek to Understand — Not to Be Understood
This requires us to get genuinely curious about the other person and to surrender numero uno, me.
Look at the root of the word understand: to stand under. To go beneath where you see a person standing. That means getting uncomfortable enough to move past surface-level, superficial living and into someone’s actual story.
But how? You might be thinking, I don’t even know how to get past the quick, polite conversations. Here are four keys.
1. Background. What have they experienced that shaped who they are? Get curious and simply ask, “I’d love to know, what’s your story?”
2. Personality. This is where the most conflict shows up. Some people are introverted, some extroverted. Some are analytical and organized; others are talkative and free-flowing. Some are driven and move fast; others feel deeply and take their time. Understanding how God wired a person, how they communicate and make decisions, lets you meet them where they are without taking the differences personally.
3. The Keys to Their Heart. Understand what they treasure. What matters most in their life?
4. Their Giftedness. Identify what they do exceptionally well. Naming someone’s gifts helps you see past the places where they fall short in your eyes.
Seek to Bring Contribution, Not Significance
There’s a quiet difference between living for significance and living to contribute, and it reshapes how we show up in every room we walk into.
Significance asks, “How can I be seen?” Contribution asks, “How can I help?” One posture is always reaching to take — attention, credit, position, applause. The other is leaning in to give. When we choose contribution, we stop standing at the center of the story and start actively building up the world around us instead of drawing from it. We become builders rather than takers.
That single shift changes our eyes. Through the lens of contribution, we begin to see with compassion, to notice the needs others quietly carry, to feel the weight of the pain they’ve walked through, and to recognize the moment someone in front of us needs more than a passing glance. And in that moment, we get to choose: do we turn away, or do we offer our strongest hand and not our back?
This is the heart of a Kingdom Builder. We were made by a Creator to create, made by a Builder to build, and the people closest to us feel that calling first. Our spouse, our children, our friends: they experience either the strength of our contribution or the ache of our absence. The same is true of those we lead. A leader chasing significance slowly drains the room. A leader who lives to contribute leaves people stronger than they found them. That’s the difference between being impressive and being a gift.
So the question isn’t “How big can I become?” It’s “What can I build, and who can I lift, with the strength I’ve been given?”
Maintain Your High Standards Without Imposing Your Expectations
People will get there, just not exactly the way you would.
We have to recognize that because we’re all wired differently, we’ll all do things differently. The path that feels obvious to you may look nothing like the path someone else needs to take, and that’s okay. When we remember that different is not the same as wrong, we no longer have to live in disappointment every time another person’s process, pace, or belief doesn’t mirror our own.
Hold your standards high. Just hold them with an open hand, leaving room for people to arrive in their own way, in their own time.
A Final Word
Judgment lives on the surface. Love lives beneath it. The next time you feel that pull to turn a difference into a verdict, let it be your cue to go lower, to stand under, to get curious, to contribute, and to leave room for someone to arrive in their own way. That’s how we keep our hearts soft enough for love to keep flowing.
Reflect This Week
Where have I been turning a difference into a verdict?
Whose story have I assumed instead of asked about?
Am I showing up to be seen, or to contribute?
Where am I imposing my expectations when I could simply hold my standards with an open hand?
Know that you are loved, and you have a purpose.