Stop the Tyranny of Misjudging Children!

 

...remember this: God Himself governs you with patience. He sees your weakness, your slowness, your repeated faults; and yet He does not hasten to condemn. He corrects, but He also sustains; He judges, but He also shows mercy.
Go, and do likewise with children, and those under your authority ... 

Prologue: An urgent Matter! 

Are you an elder in any capacity? Let us look at a particular matter closely. It is urgent! 

Notice that there is a subtle injustice that poisons the bond between elders and the young: the habit of presuming bad will. A child fails, forgets, hesitates; and at once he is judged lazy, stubborn, or defiant. Anger rises, punishment follows. Yet this reflex, so common, is a grave moral fault.

Against this harsh instinct stands the gentle command of Our Lord: 

Suffer the little children, and forbid them not to come to me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven. 

Here, divine wisdom rebukes human severity. Christ does not first demand perfection; He first receives. He does not repel weakness; He draws it near.

The child, in his frailty, images that disposition God loves: simplicity, trust, and openness to grace. His weakness is not malice, but the raw material of sanctity. To mistake it for rebellion is to misread the very soul God intends to raise.

Thus the elder stands at a crossroads: to repel or to receive, to crush or to form. In judging harshly, he not only wounds the child; he departs from the spirit of the kingdom, which belongs not to the proud and severe, but to those who resemble these little ones.

In every child stands a soul invited to Christ. Blessed is the elder who does not stand in the way.

1. The Sin of Rash Judgment

Holy Scripture warns plainly: 

“Judge not according to the appearance” (John 7:24). 

What is this fault?

The theologians call it rash judgment; to attribute evil intention without sufficient evidence. St. Thomas Aquinas teaches that when we interpret another’s action in the worst sense without necessity, we commit sin against justice and charity.

A child’s failure is often due to:

• weakness, not malice
• inattentiveness, not premeditation
• ignorance, not rebellion
• fatigue, not sloth
• confusion, not deceit
• fear, not defiance
• forgetfulness, not contempt
• immaturity, not obstinacy
• lack of skill, not refusal
• distraction, not indifference
• overwhelm, not negligence
• timidity, not resistance
• misunderstanding, not contradiction
• habit, not hardened vice
• dependence, not irresponsibility

To interpret it as deliberate bad will is to lie in the heart about one’s neighbor.

St. Augustine insists, and rightly so, that when we presume evil in another, we reveal the disorder within ourselves. We judge harshly because we lack charity. This may be a bitter pill to take as we rate ourselves high on the charity scale, if such exists. 

We readily think ourselves charitable. Yet charity is not proven in calm moments, but in irritation. When patience fails and suspicion rises, the heart is revealed. The child does not create our harshness; he exposes its measure.  Let that sink deep. 

2. A Violation of Charity and Justice; and the Harm Done to Souls

Charity is not sentimental indulgence; it is a virtue of the intellect and will. It judges according to truth, but it judges with benevolence. It neither denies faults nor magnifies them by conjecture. It inclines toward mercy without surrendering justice.

St. Francis de Sales counsels that we must always adopt the most favorable, benign, interpretation of another’s action unless clear evidence compels a harsher judgment. The reason is theological, not merely psychological: love seeks first to excuse, then to understand, and only then, if necessary; to correct. To pass judgment on a soul is a grave matter; it must never be done lightly or hastily.

When an elder rashly imputes laziness to a child without sufficient grounds, the act is not a trivial mislabeling. It becomes an injustice against truth and a failure in charity. The consequences are concrete and cumulative:

• Trust is wounded; the child feels unseen and misjudged.
  
  
• Effort is discouraged; striving appears futile under habitual suspicion.
  
  
• Formation gives way to fear; obedience becomes servile rather than rational and free.
  
  
• The heart hardens, producing either silent resentment or open resistance.
  
  
• Conscience is obscured; natural weakness is confused with moral guilt.

In such an atmosphere, correction loses its medicinal character. Authority, instead of illuminating and guiding, begins to oppress. What presents itself as discipline becomes severity unanchored from prudence. True discipline forms the will through reason perfected by charity; false discipline attempts to secure order through suspicion and pressure.

The damage is deeper still because children are not mechanisms to be adjusted but souls in formation. Pope Pius XI, in Divini Illius Magistri, teaches that authentic education must respect the nature, dignity, and gradual development of the child. Youth is marked by immaturity of judgment and instability of powers; this is a condition of growth, not a sign of malice.

When immaturity is treated as wickedness:

• initiative is crushed,
  
  
• personality is stunted into either servility or rebellion,
  
  
• conscience is malformed.

A child repeatedly and unjustly accused may internalize the verdict: “I am bad.” What begins as an error in judgment can thus become a distortion of identity. The educator, instead of cooperating with grace in forming a virtuous will, risks engraving discouragement into the soul.

Charity and justice in authority are therefore not optional refinements; they are structural necessities. To judge rashly is to wound both truth and love. To correct wisely is to build both character and trust.

3. When the Tongue Reveals the Heart: Authority, Duty, and Hidden Discontent 

Some times, elders, under the guise of being provoked by children, spew out statements that betray their discontent with authority figures and their duty-bound roles. 

Such moments are not trivial lapses but revelations of interior life. Our Lord teaches that 

“out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh” (Matt. 12:34). 

When elders, under the pretext of childish provocation, utter words of bitterness against authority or duty, they uncover a deeper disorder: a reluctance to embrace the Cross hidden in their state of life. The child becomes merely the occasion, not the cause. 

Here we must identify not only a failure of patience, but a breach of justice and charity toward lawful authority, and even toward the divine order which assigns to each his role.

The great spiritual writers insist that true virtue is tested precisely in irritation. St. Francis de Sales notes that meekness is not proven in calm, but in contradiction; and St. Alphonsus Liguori teaches that murmuring against one’s state is a subtle rebellion against Providence. 

Thus, when elders complain through sharp or cynical speech, they risk scandalizing the young, weakening respect for authority, and planting seeds of disorder in souls entrusted to their example. The harm is not only personal; it is social and even ecclesial, for authority, rightly exercised, reflects the very governance of God. 

4. The Proper Disposition: The Mind of Christ in Correction

What, then, is required of elders?

They must look first to Our Lord Himself: 

“Suffer the little children to come unto me… for of such is the kingdom of heaven.”

Divine authority reveals its true character here; not weakness, but strength perfectly governed by charity. His manner is the measure of all Christian governance:

• patient
  
  
• understanding
  
  
• firm, yet gentle

Authority that reflects Christ neither abdicates nor crushes. It guides.

St. John Bosco, master of youth formation and founder of the Salesian preventive system, translated this Gospel spirit into pedagogy. Correction, he insisted, must preserve the child’s dignity and aim at interior reform rather than external submission. It must be:

• calm, never administered in anger
  
  
• private, avoiding humiliation
  
  
• hopeful, expressing confidence in amendment

He warned that anger in correction often causes more harm than the original fault. Irritated rebuke may defend wounded authority, but it rarely heals the soul. Severity can produce compliance; it cannot produce virtue.

In harmony with this vision, the Servant of God, Don Luigi Guanella emphasized the preventive dimension of education. Love must precede reprimand. His approach stressed:

• anticipation rather than reaction; preventing faults through presence and structured care
  
  
• compassion for weakness;  recognizing fragility and deprivation as sources of many failings
  
  
• family spirit;  ensuring that authority is experienced as protective fatherhood, not suspicion

Both reject repression as a method. Correction is medicinal, not retaliatory. Its object is the formation of conscience and freedom, not the assertion of control.

But what of elders who, under the strain of childish provocation, allow bitterness to enter their speech; murmuring against duty or exercising authority with visible irritation?

The remedy is interior. It lies in a renewed spirit of obedience and sacrifice. Duties must be seen not as impositions from below, but as participations in the will of God. Silence, recollection, and mortification of speech become essential disciplines. When provoked, the elder must remember that he is observed not only by the child, but by Heaven. Every word either confirms order or sows revolt.

By mastering his tongue, he restores more than immediate peace. He safeguards the image of divine authority within the small society entrusted to him. In this way, correction ceases to be an outlet of frustration and becomes what it is meant to be: a cooperation with grace in the formation of souls.

5. Practical Principles for True Formation

Certain principles are indispensable if elders must succeed in the work of the formation of the young: 

• Presume good will unless clearly disproved

Begin with charity, not suspicion. The child is more often weak than wicked. To assume malice too quickly is to judge rashly and to wound trust at its root. Charity opens the door to correction; suspicion slams it shut.

• Distinguish inability from refusal

Ask with calm honesty: 

Could he not; or would he not? 

Ignorance requires instruction; weakness calls for patience; only stubborn refusal merits firm correction. To confuse these is to punish where one should teach, and to harden where one should heal.

• Correct with reason, not rage

Anger clouds judgment and disfigures authority. The child learns less from the correction than from the spirit in which it is given. Firmness guided by reason enlightens; correction driven by passion provokes fear or contempt.

• Encourage more than you accuse

The soul grows toward what it is shown it can become. Constant accusation crushes initiative, while measured encouragement awakens effort. A word of hope can achieve what many rebukes cannot.

• Remember your own childhood

Recall your struggles, your slowness, your need for patience. Humility tempers severity. He who remembers his own formation will correct not as a tyrant, but as a guide; firm, yes, but also understanding and just.

• Govern the tongue before correcting another

The tongue can build or destroy in a moment. Harsh, cutting, or impatient words often do more harm than the fault they seek to correct. Restrain speech, weigh words, and prefer silence to wounded correction. He who masters his tongue teaches more by example than by many instructions. 

6. Summing Up

To misjudge a child is no small fault; it is an offense against truth, a wound against charity, and an injustice against a soul entrusted by God. What appears a passing irritation may, in reality, be a seed of lasting harm.

In judging rashly, the elder does not merely err in thought; he disorders his own heart. He substitutes suspicion for charity, severity for understanding, and thus reflects not the Fatherhood of God, but a distorted authority that burdens rather than builds.

Let it be remembered: authority is not ownership; it is stewardship. The elder stands not as a master of souls, but as a servant of divine order, called to reflect, however imperfectly, the patience, wisdom, and justice of God Himself. Every act of correction, every word spoken, participates either in this divine likeness; or departs from it.

And the tongue, so swift to condemn; must be especially watched. A single harsh judgment, a careless accusation, a bitter complaint uttered in the presence of the young can scandalize, discourage the good, weakening respect for authority, and planting seeds of confusion in tender souls. What is spoken in a moment of irritation may echo in a child’s conscience for years.

Nor must we forget the end: the child before you is not merely to be managed, but to be formed for eternity. His soul is immortal. His destiny is Heaven or Hell. To crush, to discourage, to misrepresent goodness by harshness or injustice; this is to fail not only as a guide, but as a cooperator in God’s work of salvation.

What then shall the elder do?

Let him descend into himself before he rises to correct another. Let him examine whether his judgment is just, his intention pure, his words measured. Let him prefer silence to sin, patience to passion, and prayer to impulse.

 Above all, let him remember this: 

God Himself governs you with patience. He sees your weakness, your slowness, your repeated faults; and yet He does not hasten to condemn. He corrects, but He also sustains; He judges, but He also shows mercy.

Go, and do likewise: to children and those under your authority in any way. 

In the end, the measure you give will be the measure you receive. Think on it!