A Reflection for Friday of the First Week of Lent
Find today’s readings here.
“You have heard that it was said to your ancestors,
You shall not kill; and whoever kills will be liable to judgment.
But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother
will be liable to judgment,
and whoever says to his brother, Raqa,
will be answerable to the Sanhedrin,
and whoever says, ‘You fool,’ will be liable to fiery Gehenna.”
Reading today’s Gospel, I was reminded of a seminar I took during my freshman year of college on freedom of speech in the United States. Jesus gives us a sort of prefiguration of the “fighting words doctrine” of American jurisprudence, which identifies certain forms of offensive language—usually insulting labels levied directly at a particular person—not protected by the First Amendment. Hateful, venomous words directed against another human being are not utterances pronounced in a vacuum, but meaningful acts of speech that almost inevitably incite real violence. Speech is not an abstraction, but a real act. In this passage from Matthew, Jesus connects linguistic violence to physical violence, suggesting that the act of flinging even as mild an epithet as “fool” is a step on the journey to outright killing.
Simply put: Our words matter. How we treat other people in our everyday lives matters. When we normalize name-calling, or accept the rampant use of insults and slurs, we dehumanize the people against whom those words are directed. This sort of language makes it easier to view the targets as less valuable than us; to assign less value to their lives than to our own. In the worst historical instances of mass murder, the most horrifying atrocities began only after the propaganda of prejudice had worked its black magic. Words impact attitudes, which then impact actions. The old adage “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” might be sound advice for us if we are on the receiving ends of insults—we should, through prayer, cultivate a certain level of resilience to attacks—but it should never be used to imply that hateful language is harmless or trivial. Jesus knows this: Left unchecked, it is deadly.
I’m reminded of the first item on Pope Francis’ well-known list of fasting suggestions for Lent: “Fast from hurting words and say kind words.” Like Jesus, Pope Francis understands that lashing out with our words is critically damaging to our souls, our characters, and therefore to the world around us, on which each one of us has a small effect through our disposition and our way of proceeding. So, if you haven’t yet settled on a discipline for this Lent (no judgment—it’s often hard to choose!), or even if you have, consider taking on this one. In such a contentious time as ours, it’s often harder than ever to heed this counsel from our Lord and our Holy Father. But that’s precisely why it’s necessary.
And there’s no need to break this particular fast at Easter.
