A couple of weeks ago, I was fortunate enough to take a vacation to Hawaii. I don’t think I was prepared for the breathtaking beauty of the place which made the week really wonderful! One of the things I had wanted to do for a long time was visit the USS Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor. I remember reading about Pearl Harbor when I was a little boy obsessed with WWII, so to finally stand there…to see the harbor, to imagine battleship row, and stand over the spot where so many young men lost their lives, was incredibly powerful. But what struck me most was learning more about what happened before the attack. There were warning signs. Information had been passed up the line. There were people whose job was to watch, listen, pay attention and communicate what they discovered. And yet, for a variety of reasons, those warnings weren't acted upon. Standing there, it struck me how important the role of a watchman really is.
The job of a watchman is pretty simple: pay attention, recognize danger, and warn others. And today, the Church gives us that same image, but applies it to every one of us. God says to Ezekiel in our first reading, “You, son of man, I have appointed watchman for the house of Israel.” If Ezekiel sees danger coming and fails to warn the people, he bears responsibility. But if he warns them and they refuse to listen, then Ezekiel has done his job. That distinction is important. We are responsible for speaking the truth, but we aren't responsible for how someone responds to it. We can warn, encourage, challenge and love, but we cannot control another person's choices.
That role of watching and warning applies to our families, our marriages, our friendships, our Church and our communities. But we also need watchmen in our own lives. Because sometimes the person who needs to be warned isn't somebody else. It's me.
That's where this Gospel gets uncomfortable. Last week, the Scriptures challenged us to think about our relationship with truth: Are we willing to speak the truth, defend the truth and even suffer for the truth? But there's an even harder question: Am I willing to hear the truth about myself? It's one thing to say, “We need to speak the truth.” It's another thing when somebody says, “Hey, can I tell you something about yourself?” Suddenly, we're not quite as enthusiastic about truth!
I know in my own life there have been plenty of times when I've been much more comfortable giving correction than receiving it. It's easy to see what somebody else needs to change. It's a lot harder to admit that maybe there's something in me that needs to be addressed. And when somebody points that out, our first reaction isn't always humility. Often we go on the attack. Or we start offering excuse after excuse!
Jesus knows we're going to have these moments. He also knows that sometimes love requires us to say difficult things. Notice how he tells us to do it. He doesn't say, “Go tell everybody what this person has done.” He doesn't say, “Tell your spouse, your friend, your co-worker, or put it on social media.” He says, “Go to the person.” “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone.”
That's noteworthy because it's often the exact opposite of what we do. We talk to everybody except the person who needs to hear it. We tell anyone who will listen about what that other person did. And Jesus says: No. Start with them. Go to them alone.
Why? Because correction without love becomes criticism, and criticism without relationship becomes condemnation. …Jesus isn't interested in us winning an argument. He's interested in winning a person.
When I correct someone because I want to prove I'm right, that's not Christian correction. When I point out someone's failure so everyone else knows what they did, that's not Christian correction. The Christian watchman must have a different motivation: love. Love changes the way we handle conflict.
Our culture says, “Expose people.” Jesus says, “Restore people.”
Our culture says, “Win at all costs.” Jesus says, “do everything you can to reconcile the wrongdoer.”
Our culture says, “Make sure everybody knows what they did.” Jesus says, “Go to the person alone and try to work it out.”
That's what a Christian watchman does. And sometimes it will be uncomfortable. The person may not appreciate what we have to say. But remember what God tells Ezekiel: our responsibility is to faithfully give the warning. We cannot force somebody to listen.
Today’s readings ask us if we love others enough to speak up when I see them going astray? And do I listen when I am that person in need of correction and warning?
Let us take time to pray about the people and circumstances where we are being called to be watchmen for others. Who might need a difficult but loving word from me? Am I ready to speak to them with Christ-like love? Not harshly. Not arrogantly. Not behind their back. But humbly, privately, prayerfully, and with the genuine hope that they will grow closer to Christ. Am I praying for them at least as much as I am offering advice and correction?
And just as importantly: Who has God placed in my life to watch over me? None of us gets to say, “I have nothing to change.” We're all sinners. We're all works in progress. And we all need people who love us enough to tell us the truth.
May God give us the courage to speak the truth when we need to speak it, and the humility to hear the truth when we need to hear it. And may he give us the wisdom to remember that the goal isn't to win an argument, prove a point, or make somebody feel bad. The goal is to win the person back. To help one another get home. To help one another become saints. And ultimately, to help one another find our way back to Christ.
