As we look across the news landscape of this nation, we often hear of otherwise very good people being criticized for some fault—sometimes for an even relatively minor one. This is most prevalent perhaps in the arena of politics, where rivals will attack any weakness in the other—often supported (or not) by media coverage. And, of course, social media has ramped up criticism ability exponentially—a never-ending stream of champions and critics screaming at one another across the electronic abyss.
But even in private lives, we often will overlook all the good that a person does, or is, and focus on a particular fault or even one-time lapse of judgment. A social media post from many years prior can sound a death knell for a career, even though societal standards may have been much different then. Who knows what is accepted today that will be excoriated tomorrow? Are we so secure in our own position to think that we will never be criticized? For instance, take all of this recent gender reassignment advocacy; will medical personnel who do surgeries for such be sued and/or prosecuted for malpractice in a few years? It’s certainly not beyond possibility; society can be as fickle as the weather.
But … back on point: even setting aside Christian teaching for a moment, is it wise to focus on a fault or infrequent infraction of others, other than with the intent of assisting them to become better persons?
We might remember the woman dragged before Jesus for judgment. (John 8) We are given no information as to who the woman is except that she was caught in the act of adultery, and the law at that time was that such persons were to be stoned to death. But Jesus simply responds: “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone at her.” And, the narrative continues, the crowd started to dissipate, beginning with the elders, until there was no one left but Jesus and the woman, whom He forgave, and yet warned not to do such a sin again. Seeking to help her.
Jesus, of course, knew that people are so much more than their faults or weaknesses and, as He told the crowd, who among us is without sin, fault, or periodic failure of will?
Let us ponder a moment about those who have done great good in the world—maybe Gandhi, Mother Teresa, San Martín, MLK, Jr., etc. Do we think they had no faults? What if they had had to face a Twitter onslaught earlier in their lives and were harangued endlessly; would they have been discouraged so as to abandon their works of the future? Yet, are we doing that today with virulent and omnipresent criticisms? As they say, today’s sinner may be tomorrow’s saint. Are we so petty as to short-circuit that process of the developing spirit, perhaps driving someone who would otherwise develop to be a great philanthropist to chuck it all in: “Oh, I just don’t want to deal with all the critics!”
Obviously criminal behavior must be addressed more rigorously, but to harbor grudges or to criticize disproportionately others’ faults—especially not taking into account circumstances—can be destructive … and endless.
The Netflix series “Fauda” is a fictional series centered around Israeli special forces which infiltrates terrorist cells. In the series, there’s a never-ending back-and-forth tit-for-tat between radical Palestinian groups and the Israelis—they killed/bombed here, we retaliate there—in apparently endless cycle. One might think of feuds or vendettas as well—same kind of thing on a smaller scale. But if no one ever steps up and says: “No more retaliation!”, many others are condemned to possible suffering and even death. Is retaliation over one event/person more important than preventing innumerable others from a ceaselessly repetitive cycle?
Yes, people have faults; gee, thanks for the tip. But is it not grossly hypocritical to expect perfection from others when we ourselves are flawed?—the “people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones” principle?
One of my favorite Gospel scenes is when the resurrected Jesus enters the room with the eleven remaining apostles. He could have railed at them … or worse: “You louts! You traitors! Abandoning me in the hour of my greatest need! Hadn’t you all declared that you were ready to die with me and for me!? And you all ran like cowards!!!” But, Jesus enters and gently says: “Peace be with you,” putting their fears and shame at rest with forgiveness and acceptance despite their failures and weaknesses. The result? Rather than cower in shame for the rest of their lives, they dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to spreading His teaching throughout the region … eventually to the world. Such a mystery: country bumpkins and weak men having such an effect? One might think it was … supernatural.
So, as Jesus exhorts His hearers, let us take the log out of our own eyes first, and then we can see clearly to take the speck out of another’s eye. (Matthew 7:4-5) We tend to excuse ourselves much more readily than we do others, but the wise will criticize and correct his own faults most of all. As a great spiritual author wrote: “If we corrected just one fault per year, we would soon be perfect.” (Thomas a’ Kempis).
So let us remember St. Paul when tempted to screech at another: “…encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all,” (1 Thessalonians 5:14), and “Repay no one evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends upon you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves … for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” No, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him drink … Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:18:21)
Oh, yeah; and there’s Jesus: “So whatever you wish that men would do to you, do so to them…” (Matthew 7:12)
Editor’s note: Rev. Glenn Jones is the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe and former pastor of Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Los Alamos.
