DISCERNMENT AND JUDGMENT

Toward the end of a retreat I was leading, I was asked, "Can you speak to the difference between discernment and judgment?" The ask led me to explore this in a way I hadn't before. I began by using the metaphor of binoculars or of a microscope.

Discernment, I said, is the effort to adjust the lens we're looking through to bring things more clearly into focus. We can look through our mind or heart and, if what's there seems blurry, discernment lets us adjust our lens or try another angle or perspective to bring what's before us into some enduring clarity. This is the practice of discernment: to try on many vantage points in order to see things exactly as they are.

But judgment truncates the work of discernment. Judgment measures what's before us in relation to the existing map of our values and preferences. When something doesn't line up with our way of seeing, judgment finds what's different lacking. Through the lens of judgment, we can look at something and conclude that what's before us is insufficient or wrong-headed and not worthy of our attention—when it's our lens that is blurry and insufficient. Judgment dismisses or diminishes things different than us as chaotic, or inferior, or threatening, or even evil, rather than extending the effort to get closer in order to bring what's before us into greater focus.

The Italian Theologian, Thomas Aquinas, said:

The fairest branch on the tree of reason is discernment.

The fairest fruit on the branch is reverence.

We've been miseducated over centuries to believe that reason can only lead to critical assessment and judgment, when, in truth, the end of discernment is that we're brought ever closer to life itself. And the effort to discern—without judgment—opens us to the experience of reverence.

The woman who opened this inquiry then asked, "Is there ever a time for judgment?" At this, the elder in our group, an elegant woman in her eighties with a speech impediment, blurted out, "No!" I waited, but she offered nothing else.

I acknowledged her and knew there was a story behind her strong response. I went on to suggest that we're always accountable for our actions, and that we actually learn more when we inquire into the truth of our actions without judgment. For discerning without judgment gives us more detailed information, which can help us make amends and course-correct in an effort to heal and move forward.

For example, if you hurt me, I can declare that you're mean and a bad person, a judgment that cuts off all further discussion. But if I discern exactly what you said or did that was hurtful and present the evidence of what happened without a conclusion, but as truly honest feedback, then we can bring what happened between us into view. This gives us the chance to repair and move on.

At this point, the elegant older woman struggled mightily to speak. She said that she needed to explain her outburst. She went on to say that she, as the eldest of seven children, was charged at an early age to take care of her siblings and model how to be in the world. After decades, one of her sisters was angrily resentful of her, claiming that all she ever received from her older sister was judgment. The elder before us said she was shocked at this. She had only tried to look after her sister and to fulfill the charge of her parents.

After much self-reflection, she said to her sister, "I don't know how this happened. I'm sorry for ever hurting you. Please forgive me." Then, she looked around the room and said, "Even meaning well, judging pushes others away. It keeps us from trying harder."

The room grew quiet and tender and, after a time, I acknowledged that we had just participated in an experience of discernment by listening to each other with a want to learn, which brought us all closer.

Later, when they all had gone, I walked around the empty room, trying to better understand the times I've used judgment to keep people different than me from getting closer. I tried to recall the times I've truly listened without any agenda or hope for a particular outcome. I tried to understand the difference. All of this to say that while judgment encircles us with a false righteousness that lets us stay the same, discernment lets us get below our opinions, where we can feel a reverence that calls on us to keep entering life.

Questions to Walk With

In your journal, describe a time you wrongly judged another. How did you arrive at this misjudgment? What damage did this cause? Did you make amends?

In conversation with a trusted friend or loved one, describe someone you find discerning.

How do they inquire into situations? What enables them to do so? How might you begin to practice discernment rather than judgment?