Calling Out the Mirror

Read

Romans 2:1 “You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things.”

Think

You ever notice how good we are at spotting red flags in other people but not in ourselves? We scroll past someone’s post and roll our eyes. We hear about someone’s mistake and say, “I would never…” We shake our heads at someone’s decisions without even realizing we made similar ones last month. Judging others is one of the few sports where everyone thinks they’re qualified to be an expert.

Paul isn’t writing this verse to pagans who were openly rebelling against God. He’s addressing religious people. Church-going folks. Moral citizens. People who knew the right language, showed up at the right times, and stayed away from the obvious sins. But somewhere along the way, they forgot something essential—sin isn’t just what’s out there, it’s also what’s in here.

Romans 2 opens with a word we can’t ignore: “Therefore.” It connects everything Paul just said in chapter 1 about people who suppress the truth and chase after idols. But now he’s flipping the lens: “You, therefore, have no excuse…” In other words, before you nod in agreement at how sinful they are, look in the mirror. You’re not exempt. You're exposed.

It’s not that Paul is saying judgment is always wrong. Jesus himself called people to discern truth, confront sin, and walk in righteousness. What Paul is going after here is hypocrisy. That sneaky way we hold others accountable for the very things we excuse in ourselves.

Imagine driving down the freeway and getting cut off by another car. You flash your lights, maybe even mutter something under your breath. “Unbelievable. What a jerk.” But five minutes later, you do the exact same thing—only this time, it’s justified because you were in a hurry, or didn’t see them, or had a good reason. That’s the nature of self-deception. We tend to judge others by their actions and ourselves by our intentions.

Jesus illustrated this kind of spiritual blindness with a bit of humor: “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own?” (Matthew 7:3). A speck and a plank are made of the same thing. One is just easier to hide. But both obstruct our vision.

Here’s where it gets even more real—our judgment of others often reveals our own struggles. We criticize someone else’s parenting, not because we’re doing it perfectly, but because we’re insecure about how we’re doing it. We point out someone else’s pride because we haven’t dealt with our own need to be admired. We call out dishonesty, but we conveniently leave out details in our own stories to make ourselves look better.

It’s like holding up a mirror and pretending it’s a window. We think we’re seeing someone else clearly, when we’re really just looking at a reflection of our own brokenness. And when we operate like that long enough, our spiritual vision gets more distorted. We become harsh with others but lenient with ourselves. We start to believe that our sins are more understandable, more forgivable, more acceptable. And we forget that the ground at the foot of the cross is level.

One writer said it this way: “We hate in others the very things we fear in ourselves.” That kind of judgment doesn’t draw us closer to God. It distracts us from the work he’s trying to do in our own hearts. Instead of transformation, we settle for comparison. Instead of grace, we operate in pride.

There’s an old saying: “When you point one finger, there are three pointing back at you.” That’s not just folksy wisdom—it’s deeply biblical. Paul is reminding us that judgment, without self-awareness and repentance, becomes a trap. We don’t just set a standard for others—we reveal the one we’re refusing to meet ourselves.

The good news? God doesn’t leave us stuck in that cycle. His kindness invites us to trade comparison for confession. To stop playing the part of spiritual referee and step into the reality of grace. In a culture obsessed with outrage and finger-pointing, followers of Jesus are called to something deeper: honest humility. That doesn’t mean we ignore sin or avoid truth. But it does mean we start with our own hearts. We remember that we need the cross just as much as the person we’re tempted to critique. Because at the foot of the cross, there’s no pedestal to stand on.

Apply

Today, ask God to gently uncover the places in your life where you’ve been quick to judge someone else but slow to examine your own heart. Think back to a recent conversation, post, or situation where you found yourself frustrated by someone’s choices. Instead of staying in that place of criticism, ask, “Lord, where might I be doing the same thing or something similar?” Then, take a moment to actually confess it to him. If someone comes to mind whom you’ve judged unfairly or harshly, pray for them instead of talking about them. Grace always begins when we stop looking out the window and start looking in the mirror.

Pray

God, you see my heart better than I do. Forgive me for the times I’ve judged others without examining myself. Teach me to lead with humility, not hypocrisy. Show me what needs to change in me, and help me walk in grace and truth. I want to see people the way you see me—honestly, fully, and with mercy. In Jesus’ name. Amen.