When Love Refuses to Remain Silent

For many of us, talking about difficult things is uncomfortable.

We live in a culture that often tells us to go along to get along. We do not want conflict. We do not want to offend anyone. We are told to mind our own business and let everyone make their own choices. And so, when difficult subjects arise, especially when they involve someone we care about, it can be much easier simply to remain silent.

But today's readings challenge that kind of comfortable silence.

In our first reading, God appoints Ezekiel as a watchman for Israel. He has an obligation to speak the truth and to warn people to turn away from wickedness. In fact, God tells him that if he refuses to warn them, he will bear some responsibility for what happens to them.

That is quite a heavy responsibility.

Why would God demand this of Ezekiel?

Because Ezekiel is called to love his neighbor.

Saint Paul makes that connection explicit in today's second reading. After listing several of the commandments, he tells us:

"You shall love your neighbor as yourself."

And then he concludes:

"Love does no evil to the neighbor; hence, love is the fulfillment of the law."

God's command to Ezekiel is an expression of precisely that kind of love.

But this is not merely the sentimental, "touchy-feely" idea of love that our culture often gives us. Christian love means willing the good of another person. It means seeking what is truly good for him, even when doing so costs us something.

Sometimes love means sacrificing for another person. Sometimes it means denying ourselves for his sake. And sometimes it means being willing to say something that he may not want to hear.

That is what God asks of Ezekiel.

Ezekiel cannot remain silent simply because silence would be more comfortable. If he sees his brother heading toward destruction, love requires him to speak. Refusing to say anything may feel peaceful. It may even seem tolerant or kind. But it is not necessarily loving.

Sometimes our silence can allow another person to continue harming himself.

At the same time, Ezekiel is not responsible for forcing anyone to change. His responsibility is to warn. He must speak the truth, but the person who hears him remains responsible for how he responds.

Jesus gives us a similar responsibility in the Gospel, but he also shows us how that responsibility should be exercised.

"If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone."

Notice what Jesus does not tell us to do.

He does not tell us to gossip about the person. He does not tell us to embarrass him publicly. He does not tell us to gather a group of people who already agree with us so that we can complain about what he has done.

He tells us to go to our brother privately.

And notice the goal:

To win our brother back.

Fraternal correction is not about proving that I am right and you are wrong. It is not about winning an argument. It is not about putting someone in his place.

Its purpose is reconciliation.

We speak because we desire the good of the other person and because we desire communion with him.

And Jesus knows that one conversation will not always solve the problem. Sometimes our brother will not listen. He has the same problem that we have: human beings like being comfortable. We become attached to what we are doing. We become defensive when someone tells us that we need to change.

So Jesus tells us to keep trying.

If the private conversation does not work, bring one or two others. This is not about assembling a crowd against someone. It is about establishing the truth and seeking the wisdom and help of others.

If that fails, bring the matter to the Church.

And if the person still refuses to listen, there comes a point when the rupture in communion must finally be acknowledged.

This principle lies behind the Church's practice of excommunication. Excommunication is not simply about punishment or casting someone away. It is medicinal. It makes visible the separation that a person's choices have caused, with the hope that he will recognize the seriousness of his situation, repent, and return to full communion.

But there is another side to all of this.

It would be very easy to hear these readings and immediately begin thinking about all the people we need to correct.

That would be missing a large part of the point.

Because sometimes we are Ezekiel, called to speak.

And sometimes we are the person who needs to listen.

That is why today's psalm is so important:

"If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts."

The person being corrected can have a hard heart. But so can the person doing the correcting.

Even when we are right about another person's actions, we can approach him for the wrong reasons. We can speak out of pride, anger, resentment, or a desire to control him. We can tell ourselves that we are "speaking the truth" when what we really want is to win, retaliate, or prove our own righteousness.

That is not fraternal correction.

Before correcting someone else, we should examine our own hearts.

Why am I saying this?

Do I genuinely desire this person's good?

Have I prayed for him?

Am I willing to speak with patience and mercy?

Am I willing to listen as well as speak?

And perhaps most importantly: am I willing to be corrected myself?

Because God does not only speak through us. Sometimes God speaks to us through another person.

He may speak through Scripture. He may speak through the teaching of the Church. He may speak through the people closest to us. And sometimes he may speak through a brother or sister who loves us enough to tell us something we would rather not hear.

It is easy to remain silent because we are afraid.

It is also easy to speak harshly because we are angry.

Christian love calls us to something more difficult than either of those.

It calls us to the courage to speak the truth when love requires us to speak.

And it calls us to the humility to listen when love requires us to change.

Sometimes we are Ezekiel.

Sometimes we are the one to whom Ezekiel has been sent.

If today we hear his voice, may we not harden our hearts. May we have the courage to speak with humility and the humility to listen with an open heart, so that together we may become the people God is calling us to be.