Who do you think you are?

BY FR. ROLANDO V. DE LA ROSA, OP

Mar 2, 2025 00:07 AM 

THROUGH UNTRUE

In today's society, which places a strong emphasis on individual autonomy, freedom, and diversity, fraternal correction can often be perceived as intrusive or unwelcome. Negative feedback regarding a person’s behavior is frequently seen as manipulative, an overstep of boundaries, or an attempt to advance the critic's agenda. As a result, the person may defensively deflect attention toward the critic's authority and legitimacy by asking, “Who do you think you are?” 

Social media and digital communication have aggravated this discomfort with corrections, even when offered constructively. The way these are formulated is often brutal and impersonal, almost similar to public shaming.

Consequently, even those in positions of authority hesitate to offer correction, fearing they will be seen as intolerant, judgmental, or, worse, self-righteous. Pope Francis’s famous words, “Who am I to judge?” are frequently used as an excuse to remain silent, even when gross behavior is displayed in one’s presence.

At first glance, today’s Gospel reading seems to discourage fraternal correction. Jesus says to His disciples: “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own? How can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you fail to see the plank in your eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (Luke 6:39-45).

However, a closer examination reveals that Jesus is, in fact, offering fraternal correction to the Pharisees, who, due to their pride and inflated sense of moral superiority, refuse to acknowledge their flaws and sins while harshly criticizing others based on self-defined standards of righteousness. Jesus encourages fraternal correction, but he wants us to do it with sincerity, good will, and humility. 

Now more than ever, fraternal correction is crucial — not only for improving our relationships but also for addressing the many socio-economic challenges we face. For example, our democratic institutions, which are vital to society, can only effectively function when we provide constructive feedback to our leaders, hold them accountable, and ensure their actions align with the nation's best interests.

History has shown that many leaders falter because those closest to them hesitate to speak out, fearing the loss of privileges or benefits. These individuals remain silent to maintain peace. But is this genuine peace?

St. Thomas Aquinas writes that true peace can only thrive in a community where members are not afraid to speak the truth. Unprincipled compromises that hide the truth do not lead to true peace. Instead, they foster shallow alliances — similar to those among criminals who remain silent, deaf, and blind to the wrongdoings of their peers in order to protect their mutual interests.

For those who have close relationships with our leaders but refuse to offer correction, even in the face of blatant wrongdoing, God says: “When I say to a wicked person, ‘You will surely die,” and you do not warn or correct him to save his life, that wicked person will die for his sin, but I will hold you accountable for his blood. But if, in spite of your warning and correction, the wicked person does not turn from his evil ways, he will die for his sin; but you will save yourself” (Ezekiel 3:18-20).

The power of correction lies not in condemnation, but in offering a chance for redemption. A wayward leader, faced with a corrective intervention, may reconsider his choices and recognize the potential for positive change. This is especially true when the correction is framed constructively, focusing on the importance of ethical behavior for the betterment of society rather than punishing past wrongs. 

The wrong question

BY FR. ROLANDO V. DE LA ROSA, OP

Dec 15, 2024 00:01 AM 

THROUGH UNTRUE

Many still think that when Christ was born, everything changed. It did not. What it brought was a promise of radical transformation that can only be realized when we actively cooperate with God’s initiative. The problem, however, is that we tend to understand such “cooperation” in terms of what we should do. We are like the Jews in our Gospel reading, who, after hearing St. John the Baptist’s preaching, asked, “What should we do?” (Luke 3:10-18). 

Perhaps we remain resistant to the transforming power of God’s grace because we keep asking the wrong question. Instead of “What does God want me to do?” we should be asking, “What does God want me to BE?” God is far more concerned with being than with doing.

Many of us think that we must accumulate good acts as evidence that we deserve to be saved and loved by God. Unwittingly, we become like the Pharisees during the time of Jesus, who thought they could impress God with their devotion to duty. They mistakenly assumed that, in order to gain entrance to heaven, they needed to present God with a list of their good deeds, as if to say, “Here, these are the reasons I deserve to be in heaven.” They reduced religion to a mere checklist of things to do.

What we often do during Christmas reflects this distorted view of the Christian faith. Today, many of us approach Christmas as a series of self-imposed obligations: sending Christmas cards, emails, selfies, videos, and texts; shopping and bargain-hunting for decorations, gadgets, clothes, and other gifts; holding reunions; and organizing vacations to distant places.

We know that these activities rarely lift our spirits or help us focus on the true joy of Christmas. More often, they leave us physically exhausted and financially drained. Yet, we continue to engage in them year after year because this is how we answer the question: “What must I do to make Christmas meaningful and enjoyable?” 

This question has become second nature to us and is gradually undermining the real meaning of Christmas. John Eldredge writes, “Once you have lived so long in a certain spot, no matter how odd or ugly, you come to think of it as home.”

When we view Christmas as an endless pursuit of more things to do, we reduce it to a business plan rather than a joyful celebration. Our talents and resources, instead of being gifts we offer to God, become mere tools for fulfilling our expectations, while God—the proper object of our desire during Christmas—is left out.

Let us look back. The first Christmas occurred because God wanted to stir our desire for Him. He became human simply because He wanted to be desired, to be needed, to be wanted, and above all, to be passionately loved. He wanted us to say, “As the deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God” (Psalm 42:1).

In a very real sense, Christmas opens our eyes—not to what we should do or keep doing, but to what we should be in God’s eyes. The image of the infant Jesus in a manger reminds us of a new beginning, a chance to be born again. It invites us to say: “I am not the same as I was yesterday. I am becoming someone who desires God more deeply and who believes that my real worth lies not in what I do but in what I can become through His grace.”