Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Matthew 18:15–20
We have become a society terrified of confrontation, yet addicted to outrage. It is a fascinating paradox.
There is a vulnerability that comes with going before a friend and telling her that something she did hurt you, or lovingly pointing out that a decision she's making is damaging her relationship with God and others. It's far easier to avoid it entirely. Far less complicated to avoid telling a coworker that her behavior or joke is causing harm. Simpler to avoid confronting someone in a position of authority (be it a boss, teacher, or priest) and express that the manner in which they spoke was hurtful.
Silence is kindness, or so we like to convince ourselves. Certainly, it's much more comfortable. Under the guise of “keeping the peace,” we tell ourselves that we're merely allowing people to live their lives, to own “their truth.”
But here's the irony: just put a screen between us, and suddenly we are remarkably comfortable with conflict, with anger, with vitriol.
Behind the safety of a keyboard, flurries of words—that we likely would never have the courage (or brazenness) to say to another person's face—are typed. They're sent via text or posted on a feed. With a click of a button, we dissect someone's mistakes, forward a text, share a screenshot, and make rash judgments about their character.
And yet, fraternal correction is a spiritual act of mercy. St. Thomas Aquinas describes it as an act of charity, for at its heart, correction seeks to procure the good of another (Summa Theologiae, II-II, Q. 33, A. 1). If our desire is truly another's good, how are we to go about this?
In Sunday's gospel, Jesus shows us the way: "If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have won over your brother" (Matthew 18:15).
Central to this method of correction is the preservation of the other's dignity. The goal is not the humiliation or dishonor of the brother, nor is it to win an argument, prove a point, or protect a fragile ego. The goal is to win over and restore relationship and communion with a fellow disciple.
By going directly to the offender, we avoid gossip, slander, negativity, and complaining. These habits quickly erode communities and relationships, which are often just as damaging, if not more so, than the offense that first wounded us.
But, as we noted earlier, confronting someone in person takes far more courage than it does to confront them via text. Thus, discernment is not only required, it is also essential.
This discernment really should not take the form of venting or seeking counsel; it should not be an excuse for gossip. I know there have been times when I've complained to a friend about another person, under the pretense of seeking counsel, only to walk away with the nagging conviction that I should have gone to God first. Perhaps this was a venial sin, or a reflection of my own character and insecurities; perhaps there was no sin at all and merely a disagreement or misunderstanding.
Before approaching another person, we should first come before the Lord and ask if the situation is grave enough to address, if we are the right person to address it, if we are seeking the person's good or simply trying to vindicate ourselves.
No doubt our Lord, who “searches all hearts, and understands every plan and thought" (1 Chronicles 28:9), guides our footsteps. Through the counsel of the Holy Spirit, He will direct both our words and actions. He may reveal that we are called to let the situation go. Or He may give us the courage and the wisdom to speak.
Mercy does not mean never challenging or never making our friends uncomfortable with truth. Rather, mercy demands that "you shall love your neighbor as yourself" (Romans 13:9); mercy demands speaking truth with love.
Imagine a culture that did not seek to cancel or respond with vitriol, but sought to fraternally correct.
A culture that looked one another in the eye—where we can gaze upon the imago Dei—instead of through a pane of glass illuminated by blue light.
A culture that sought private connection over public spectacle and personal gain.
A culture that remembered, as the Father does, that we are more than the sum of our mistakes, that redemption is always possible, that we have a future of hope and goodness, that every person is capable of conversion.
Through one courageous conversation at a time, through mercy, and above all, love, Christ calls us to transform the world.
Food for thought or journaling ...
Is there a conversation I need to prayerfully discern, either one I need to have or one I need to let go of?
Jesus, You have entrusted us with the message of reconciliation. May I steward this gift well. Grant me a spirit of wisdom, temperance, and courage, that I may know when to speak and when to hold my tongue. Amen.
