The practice of fraternal correction is an ancient one. It predates Jesus’ instruction to the disciples in the Gospel for this 23rd Sunday of the Year, and it finds a place in the law codes of various religious communities and even in the Church as a whole. It is necessary not only for the good working of society, but also for the development of the individual person. Parents know the necessity of correcting the bad habits or misjudgments of their children. In the workplace we know the need to make sure that employees who miss the mark are “called on the carpet” for their shortcomings or missteps. Some form of discipline or correction is essential to the well-being of any organization.
The same was true for the Jewish community where clear guidelines for correction of those who have lost their way were essential in maintaining the covenant with the Lord. This is, after all, the primary role of the prophets. They announced to Israel the judgment of the Lord in light of their sinfulness and in abandoning the demands of the covenant.
Jesus extends this same notion of fraternal correction to his disciples and then to the Church. When someone strays from the moral life, abandons the faith or gets caught up in fanciful ideas, it is the role of the community to challenge that person to repentance and conversion. The Church has traditionally exercised this authority by excommunication. The purpose of excommunication is not to be a final punishment but rather to shock the person into right thinking or acting in light of being excommunicated. The Amish Mennonites practice “Meidung,” a form of shunning, for those members who have broken the strict moral and disciplinary codes of the community. Other religious groups, including Orthodox Jews, practice other forms of shunning and communal discipline.
As the events of the past year or so reveal, public shaming and a form social fraternal correction are rippling through our society. Fueled by political correctness, it seems that some people have run amok with condemnations, ridicule, protests, iconoclasm, and expressions of intolerance against those deemed intolerant. Absent, however, is any grasp of fundamental and absolute moral principles, this form of correction is haphazard and will inevitably fall under its own hubris.
The call of Jesus is to develop within the context of a personal relationship. Outside of such a relationship attempts at correction, even by the most well-intentioned of individuals, can be more harmful than helpful. I witnessed a situation some time ago where an elderly parishioner chastised a mother and her daughter over the girl’s behavior in church. The parishioner was unaware of the extensive special needs of the girl, and the mother was doing the best that she could to keep her daughter on the periphery. There then ensued a situation where one failed and hurtful attempt at fraternal correction demanded the fraternal correction of the presumed corrector.
It is not emotion or our own needs that stands as the benchmark for assisting other people in learning and searching for the truth. Instead it is the truth of the Gospel and the demands of the moral life that are the canon by which we are called to respond to in faith. None of us is a law-unto-self, we are instead all subject to the natural law and to the law as revealed to us through the Scriptures and the Church. This becomes more difficult. It is easy to demand that others conform to the way I want them to live – it is often much harder for me to live the way that the Gospel calls me to live. When someone fails, as we all inevitably do – that’s called sin – then we encourage and admonish, not so that we can feel good about ourselves, but so that the other person can be challenged to reflect on his or herself. Fraternal correction exists within the framework of a dialogue. When it becomes “I’m right and you’re wrong” it fails the test of correction and becomes an act of hubris.
Sept. 17 – Forgiveness heals both the offender and the offended
“Wrath and anger are hateful things, yet the sinner hugs them tight.”
That opening line from the Book of Sirach in the First Reading pretty much says it all. When we look around us today we see a great deal of wrath and anger. We do not need to look far to see this anger and hatred fueling so much of the public discourse and acts of civil disobedience. We have moved from a sense in more recent decades when we protested on behalf of something, to an era when we see the primary motivations to be against something. Wrath and anger manifest themselves in hatred.
We know that we live in a world that is and has always been infected with the disease of original sin. The nature of sin is to divide and to sow hatred and discord. There is no doubt that such is the case now.
Where in the midst of this intense anger do we find any sense of healing? Is healing even possible where dialogue is shut down and where violence reigns over peace and, often enough, even common sense?
In such an environment the fundamental question is how can we reach some kind of healing? What needs to happen to bring people together? Sure, flash moments like the devastation wreaked by Hurricane Harvey can bring many people out of their inwardness towards a broader sense of charity and community. Sadly, however, it doesn’t take long to settle back into old ways of judging, thinking and acting.
Peter, yet again, speaks for every one of us when he dares to ask Jesus the question: “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive? As many as seven times?”
For most of us the idea of forgiving someone seven times, presumably for some rash or perhaps even repeated offense, seems unusual. On one hand we easily forgive minor hurts, or at least most of us do. Peter was unlikely asking on the day to day small offenses or thoughtless actions or words of someone. Rather, he must have been reflecting on a more grave behavior. If someone does the same thoughtless, crude, and hurtful act against you how often must you forgive? Is seven times enough?
Jesus says that seven times is not only not enough, it is barely hits the surface. This does not mean that, in light of last week’s Gospel, we do not engage in some form of fraternal correction or challenge that person to growth, but it does mean that we respond with compassionate forgiveness.
Forgiveness is empowering. It always changes the dialogue and should have the effect of making the offender reflect on his or her actions leading to conversion. The point of forgiving someone is not to leave the other to wallow in guilt, nor is it to punish through some passive-aggressive action or is it to leave the person where he or she is in their action. Rather it is so that the other can gain the insight to growth and transform her or his life.
Forgiving the other is not about me, it is about the other. However, there is the added benefit that when I forgive I can then let go of the hurt and not allow myself to continue to wallow in pain. Forgiveness, then, heals both of us – the offender and the offended.
When both parties feel offended, and when the hurt runs far and deep, taking that first step towards healing is the most challenging and difficult. Forgiveness calls for new ways of thinking and even newer ways of acting.
As we can begin ourselves to forgive – and to accept forgiveness – perhaps we can at least change our own corner of this world, one hurt, one person, at a time.
Father Garry Koch is pastor of St. Benedict Parish, Holmdel.