There is a rather common idea today that a good Christian should never criticise another person. We hear phrases such as, “Who am I to judge?” or “It is none of my business.” And certainly, Christians must avoid being judgemental, self-righteous or being an interfering busybody. But today’s readings remind us of something equally important: there are times when remaining silent about another person’s wrongdoing is not an act of love at all.
In the prophet Ezekiel, God appoints the prophet as a watchman to the Israelites in exile in Babylon. As a watchman, if he sees danger approaching, he must sound the warning. If he refuses to warn the sinner, God tells him: “I will hold you responsible for his death.” But if he gives the warning, he has fulfilled his responsibility.
That is a sobering teaching that extends to you and me today. We have a responsibility for one another. The practice of my Christian faith is not simply about getting my own soul safely to heaven. Love requires me to care about the salvation of my brother and sister as well.
St Paul makes precisely this point in Romans 13: “Owe no one anything, except to love one another.” He then says that all the commandments are summed up in the words: “Love your neighbour as yourself.” If I genuinely love another person, I cannot be indifferent when I see him walking towards something that may seriously harm him spiritually.
But here we encounter the great danger: correction can easily become sanctimonious gossip or condescending fault finding.
And this is why Jesus gives us such practical instructions in Matthew 18: “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone.”
Notice what Jesus does not say. He does not say: if your brother sins, go and tell three other people about it. He does not say: discuss his faults with your friends. He does not say: complain about him behind his back. He says: go to him.
That gives us a very useful Christian principle: if I am unwilling to speak to a person about his fault, I should be very careful about speaking to others about it.
Jesus then gives a gradual process. First, speak privately. If that fails, take one or two others—not to humiliate the person, but to establish the truth and help him. Only afterwards does the matter become more public. Christian correction therefore protects a person’s dignity for as long as possible.
There is also an important question we should ask before correcting someone: Why am I doing this? Is it because I am irritated? Because I want to prove that I am right? Because I enjoy exposing another person’s faults? Or because I genuinely desire his good?
Saint John Henry Newman understood that the faith is passed on most powerfully through personal influence. In his sermon “Personal Influence, the Means of Propagating the Truth,” he argued that Christianity is spread not merely through books, arguments or institutions, but through people who both teach the truth and embody it. Friendship therefore has a particularly important place in bringing another person closer to God. A friend has earned the right to speak because he has first listened, remained loyal and shown genuine concern. His correction is more likely to be heard because it comes from someone whose love has already been experienced. St Newman’s insight is often captured by the words on his cardinal’s coat of arms: Cor ad cor loquitur—“Heart speaks to heart.” We seldom bring someone back to Christ by winning an argument or publicly exposing his faults. More often, faith is passed from one heart to another through the patient, truthful and loving witness of a trusted friend.
Correction without love becomes condemnation – love without truth becomes sentimentality. St Thomas Aquinas saw that fraternal correction is an act of charity, while St Philip Neri, on the topic of guiding others, said that a spoon of honey gathers more flies that a barrelful of vinegar.
Sometimes the most loving thing we can say to another person is: “What you are doing is wrong, and I am worried about you.” Those words may be difficult to speak and difficult to hear. But they can also be words that save a friendship, a marriage, a family—and perhaps even a soul.
So, as we leave Mass today, perhaps each of us should ask ourselves the following tough questions.
Is there someone in my life whom I can see heading in the wrong direction, but whom I have failed to warn because I am afraid of an awkward conversation or of being accused of judging?
When I do correct another person, is it truly because I love that person and desire his good and his salvation—or because I am angry, irritated, self-righteous, or simply want to prove that I am right?
Is there someone whose faults I have been discussing with other people when, according to the words of Jesus, the person I really ought to be speaking to is the person himself?
Am I humble enough to receive correction from another person, or do pride and defensiveness prevent me from recognizing that God may be speaking to me through someone who genuinely cares for my salvation?
May the Lord give us the wisdom to know when to remain silent, the courage to speak when we should, and above all, the charity to speak the truth in great love. Amen.