One of the main complaints about the Church community life is that there are so much politics and drama. If only everyone, especially fellow Christians, could just learn to get along rather than get into each other’s hair. I would often remind people that the word “politics” comes from the Greek “polis” which means “people.” The reality is that “where two or three are gathered, there is bound to be politics and where there is politics, there are bound to be fights!” But our Lord also assures us that not everything is dark and glum about community life: “where two or three meet in my name, I shall be there with them.”
One may be scandalised to note that conflict takes place within the Church too. Aren’t Christians supposed to be peacemakers? Perhaps, but the truth is that conflict crosses all boundaries of religions, traditions, cultures and time. Even in the early Church, even in her earliest days there was conflict. The New Testament attests to this. The trouble is that most of us have difficulty dealing with conflict. Yes, there are a few among us that like to stir things up and then, either watch from the sidelines as others battle it out or else, jump right into the drama. However, most of us find conflict uncomfortable. I’m one of them. A parishioner once told me that I have a personality of a “pigeon.” I think she meant “dove.” That is why many think they can avoid conflict by choosing not to correct others.
Our desire to avoid conflict, our refusal to correct, may have less to do with charity than it has to do with a self-serving motive. In all honesty, it’s always difficult to correct because we don’t want to appear as the bad guy. We don’t want to sour existing bonds or ruin friendships. But silence and inaction are never the solution, and they both definitely do not flow from the well-spring of love. St Paul, in the second reading, writes, “Love is the one thing that cannot hurt your neighbour; that is why it is the answer to every one of the commandments.” Almost everyone would agree that love is the answer but to interpret love as inaction and silence is ludicrous. Love, in fact, places a duty on us to confront the evil. Ultimately, if we truly love them, we must always work for their salvation, which includes correcting them.
In today’s first reading, the prophet Ezekiel’s perception of his vocation as a prophet is more aptly described as that of a concerned brother watching out for his brothers and sisters in the faith. A prophet was considered to be the conscience of the nation, and we know from experience that the conscience often pricks and convicts. Ezekiel, therefore, compared his role to that of a sentinel or watchman who searches the moral horizon for impending disaster and then sounds the warning so that others take heed. He did not relish being thought of as a busy body who waits to pounce on every fault of his wayward brethren. His vocation flowed from his love of God and his love for his people. He was willing to be the voice of reason and Truth and even be at the receiving end of hostility and misunderstanding, if only he could convince his brethren to cease following the route to self-destruction.
In this Sunday’s Gospel, our Lord provides us with a concrete illustration of how love is translated into fraternal correction. He indicates the three escalating levels of fraternal correction. First, we are to correct the sinner privately. Then, if he refuses to listen, we bring one or two others. Finally, if necessary, the sinner must be brought to the Church. If he refuses even the correction of the Church, and if the matter is serious, he is to be excommunicated. This is what we have witnessed with the recent saga concerning the illicit ordination of bishops by the Society of St Pius X which led to the excommunication of all those involved in it. The last stage seems harsh and even at odds with the first two, but a careful reading would reveal that all three stages serve one single purpose. In the verses immediately preceding today’s text, our Lord speaks of searching for the one lost sheep. In a sense, brotherly and sisterly correction should follow the same idea. Therefore, correction’s goal is not retaliation but reconciliation, that is to lead back into the sheepfold the one who has gone astray and who has gotten lost along the way. St Thomas Aquinas teaches us, “fraternal correction is a work of mercy” and he cheekily adds, “Therefore even prelates ought to be corrected.”
Love isn’t something that makes us feel good. There are times when we are asked to love at a great cost. Pope Benedict XVI had always emphasised the intimate connection between charity and the Truth. Charity is always at service to the Truth, it can never be a cover up for a lie. In one of his homilies, the erudite Pope refers to an important part of the regalia of the bishop, his pastoral staff, and uses this to speak of the Church’s authority to correct – the crosier now seen as a disciplinary rod. “The Church too must use the shepherd’s rod, the rod with which he protects the faith against those who falsify it, against currents which lead the flock astray.” One can imagine the Pope reminding us of that age old adage, “Spare the rod and spoil the child.”
When the Church seeks to correct us, it is only because she wishes to inspire us to greater fidelity, not less. And when the Church extends the rod of authority, it is not to beat us into submission, but to gather us into the safety of the sheepfold. If the Church seeks to impose its sanction on us, it is only because she wishes to provide the moral parameters for our actions so that we may be guided back to the path of salvation. And that is why we should always be grateful that the Church continues to speak with the prophetic voice of Christ. For her motivation is never spite or meanness, but Love.
Walking the path of love is never easy. The other path which is filled with bickering and jealousy, violence and revenge, hate and fear is often crowded, broad and smoothly paved. Few would always choose to walk the more difficult path of love. Although few may choose to walk this path, let us be assured once again, “for where two or three meet in my name, I shall be there with them.” Yes, we never walk the path of love by ourselves. We are never alone. The One who loves us beyond all telling, the One who ate with sinners, pagans and tax collectors, the One who offers His enemies forgiveness on the cross, walks along with us. And as He walks along with us and ahead of us, He continues to guide and correct us through the voice of the Church, His Body. We should expect no less from Him.
