Judgmentalism and resentment are powerful relationship killers. In contrast, a generous spirit believes the best about another and creates an atmosphere of welcome and safety. It’s grace in action; here’s what it looks like.

A few weeks ago I met “Jerry,” a Christian leader in my community.

I had never liked Jerry. True, I’d never met him. Yet I “knew” that Jerry oozed arrogance—and I “knew” that he didn’t respect me. Why would I want to meet a person so stuck-up and judgmental?

One day, as I filled my plate with food at a local dinner, I turned and came face to face with Jerry. Flustered, I said, “Well, hello Jerry. You know, I don’t think we’ve ever met. My name is Matt Woodley.”

Much to my surprise, Jerry’s eyes lit up. “Oh, my goodness,” he effused, “I am so happy to meet you. I’ve heard so many good things about you and your church. I hear that you’re having such a positive impact on this community. I even hear that you’re a writer. I have so much respect for you. It’s good to meet you!”

I felt myself shrinking in shame.

Unlike me, Jerry exhibited generosity of spirit, a Christlike commitment to see the best in other people.

Generosity of spirit flows from three biblical injunctions.

• “Let us stop passing judgment on one another” (Ro. 14:13).

• “Love is always eager to believe the best” (1 Cor. 13:6, Moffat).

• “Accept one another” (Ro. 15:7).

Christians who are generous believe the best about you until it’s proven otherwise. They refuse to rely on hearsay or assumptions; instead, they base their opinions on face-to-face and heart-to-heart conversations.

I, on the other hand, reeked with stinginess of spirit toward Jerry. I did not believe the best about him; as a matter of fact, I assumed that Jerry’s heart seethed with noxious attitudes toward me. I reversed Ro. 14:13, acting as if it said, “Let us start passing judgment on one another.”

The gulf between these two heart attitudes should sober us. Generosity of spirit builds Christlike relationships; stinginess of spirit undermines and eventually shatters them. Generosity of spirit makes us and God very happy; stinginess of spirit entraps us in suspicion, self-righteousness, and misery.

So how do we develop a generous spirit toward others?

Would you look at that!

Generosity of spirit begins with a conscious decision to override what I call the “idiot default.” This is an ingrained mindset that immediately assumes the worst of someone. When we identify apparent imperfection, incompetence, or moral failure, our default kicks in and we think, Hey, would you look at that! I know there are dozens of possible interpretations of what I just saw or heard, but I’ll start with, “That person is an idiot.”

For instance, late one afternoon I took a reliable shortcut to avoid Long Island traffic. This day, however, I encountered a line of 20 cars stopped dead behind a school bus. Apparently, all 20 of us were waiting for one very slow, incompetent student to exit the bus. People started honking and yelling—our default opinion of people was cranking up. But it quickly stopped as we watched a severely handicapped teenager struggle valiantly down the bus steps onto the street.

I notice that Jesus didn’t have such a default. Certainly, He often challenged people, confronting sin and asking hard questions, but He didn’t begin by assuming, “You must be an idiot.”

I love the story in Mk. 2:1–12 about the four friends who carved a hole in the roof and lowered their paralyzed friend into the presence of Jesus. If I had been sitting in the crowd, covered with dirt and debris from the deconstructed roof, I’d likely assume the worst: Can you believe these guys? Who do they think they are? Who’s going to clean up the mess? Instead, Mark reports that “Jesus saw their faith” (v. 5). Jesus saw the best about the four friends and healed the paralyzed man.

Sometimes a stingy spirit shows up even in our closest relationships. When my son suddenly refused to attend his team’s soccer practices, I considered only one interpretation: He’s acting like a defiant adolescent. So I lectured him, threatened him, and punished him. He responded by bickering and resisting—until he finally broke down. “Dad,” he explained, “there’s a bunch of kids who ridicule me during every practice, and I just can’t take it anymore.”

Sadly, by assuming the worst about other people’s motives and actions, we cease to love like Jesus. But defaults can be overridden.

The first step toward a more generous spirit involves confessing and renouncing our tendency to assume the worst about others. We must recognize, disengage, and ask Jesus to help us overcome this built-in but insidious default.

We counteract our arrogant judgments by acknowledging the states of our own hearts. We, also, are “idiots.” We stand in need of the same grace that we are refusing to extend to others. This awareness softens our judgments, opening our hearts to be generous toward others.

Of course, we still need to make discerning judgments about people. In Matthew 7 Jesus tells us not to throw our pearls before swine and to beware of false prophets (vv. 6, 15). But acknowledging that my mind often swirls with hyperactive judgmentalism tempers those judgments, creating space for a slow and generous love. We may still help other sinners, but the help always comes from the generosity of a fellow sinner, not the stinginess of an arrogant judge.

As Christ Accepted

Once we resist making hasty assumptions, we’re ready for the positive side of a generous spirit: accepting others in Christ. A stingy spirit separates us from others; generosity opens our hearts to flawed and struggling people. When the Apostle Paul wrote to the church in Rome, a church marred by intense cultural conflicts, he said, “Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God” (Ro. 15:7).

For Paul, this wasn’t just abstract theology or pious talk; he owed his life to the acceptance of Christ and His followers. When he met Jesus, Paul (then known as Saul) was “breathing out murderous threats [the Greek suggests the image of a wild boar snorting in rage] against the Lord’s disciples” (Acts 9:1). Jesus halted Saul on the road to Damascus and, for all practical purposes, dismantled his life.

Through the love of two believers who practiced radical and costly acceptance, Jesus reassembled Saul’s broken life. First, Judas (and probably his wife) opened his home to Saul. Second, God called Ananias to go and pray for Saul. At first Ananias balked.

Though Ananias initially categorized Saul as an unsalvageable menace, out of obedience to God’s clear command he went anyway. In a remarkable and tender gesture of generosity, he placed his hands on Saul’s head, “relabeled” him “Brother Saul,” and prayed for God’s blessing to fall on his life.

Through the early church’s radical spirit of acceptance, Saul, the former ravager of the church, became Paul, God’s “chosen instrument.” Based on his own story, Paul could declare that accepting one another brings glory to God.

It is important to note that our ability to accept others is based on Christ’s acceptance of us. As we allow that truth to sink into our hearts, and as we allow the Spirit of the living Christ to dwell and reign in our lives, He slowly softens our judgments and mutes our idiot default. As we “stand in grace” (Ro. 5:2), taking every breath under the reality of Jesus’ acceptance of us, we open our hearts to embrace fellow sinners and strugglers.

I have three friends who accept me in that way. Twice a month, as we eat bagels and drink coffee, they speak truth into my life. They know my struggles and temptations, and they don’t hesitate to challenge me. But I also know—even in the midst of my flaws, my sin, my anger, my lust, my selfishness, or my cowardice—that they won’t judge me. Rather, they generously embrace me, they call me “brother,” and they pray for me. I do the same for them.

Generous Grace

When I recall God’s version of my life’s story—namely, that my sin separated me from God and yet God, “who is rich in mercy” (Eph. 2:4), lavished His grace on me (Eph. 1:8)—then my stingy, judgmental spirit isn’t just a character flaw; it’s a grotesque aberration of the spiritual life. And it destroys relationships. “If you keep on biting and devouring each other,” Paul warns, “watch out or you will be destroyed by each other” (Gal. 5:15). What an ugly picture of a stingy spirit!

On the other hand, a generous spirit gives life to others. Rather than devouring another person, I offer a spacious, gentle, and generous love. When I am eager to “believe the best,” to “stop passing judgment,” and to “accept others,” I have the marvelous opportunity to display Christlike love to my neighbor.

Generosity of spirit is really just grace in action. God shows His grace to me; I pass that grace on to others. And with my generous love, I embody the radical call of a Christ-centered lifestyle: “Be imitators of God…and live a life of love” (Eph. 5:1–2).

 MATHEW WOODLEY is senior pastor of The Three Village Church on Long Island, New York. Matt claims he makes the best bowl of mulligatawny in North America (of course, he’s being generous with himself!)