How are you with feedback?
I have difficulty giving feedback. I can blame what American Jesuit sociologist Frank Lynch observed and wrote about Filipinos in the 1970s: the value of smooth interpersonal relations. I would rather keep quiet and endure an offense with a smile than face conflict. Maybe I would subtly hint, gently tease, or if really offended, make “patama.”
I want to translate “patama” as a thinly disguised critique that shifts onto the other person the burden of deciphering my meaning. If he or she doesn’t get it, then I label him or her insensitive. But if I am being honest, “patama” is basically a passive-aggressive remark spawned by my own fears and insecurities.
If the “patama” doesn’t work, I recruit a third party to backbite the person. I have to choose the right third party though—someone who will validate my grievances and even fan the flames of my anger. The last thing I want is someone who might subtly hint, gently tease, or make “patama” that maybe I should just talk to the person directly.
This is my Rusted Rule, a corroded inversion of the Golden one: “Do unto others what would cause me social cardiac arrest if ever done to me.” And as I have learned the hard way, this strategy guarantees only broken hearts and broken relationships.
These are precisely what our Gospel today (Matthew 18:15-20) seeks to heal. Jesus tells us that if someone sins against us, we have a responsibility to speak with that person. There is a clear progression in Jesus’ directions. First, talk to the person privately. Second, if he or she does not listen, take one or two others for greater objectivity. Third, if met only with stubbornness, tell the church. Fourth, if there is still a refusal to change, treat that person as a Gentile or tax collector.
What Jesus gave us is not a mechanical protocol. Let’s work backwards from that final instruction to see what he is really teaching us. At first glance, treating the other person as a Gentile or a tax collector looks like excommunication. But how did Jesus actually treat Gentiles and tax collectors? Remember what he did for the Gentile woman three weeks ago: He learned from her and healed her daughter. Remember also what he did with a certain tax collector named Matthew: Jesus called him to be an apostle, sat at his table, and shared a meal with his friends, who were also tax collectors.
Walking back to the third step, we might stumble if we think that telling the church is merely making “sumbong.” There is something deeper to ponder here. There is a Filipino saying that goes, “Hindi baleng huwag mo akong mahalin; huwag mo lang akong hiyain.” (Never mind if you don't love me, just don't humiliate me.) Isn’t this what happens when we start involving other people? This may happen. The other person may experience hiya and be hurt even more. But the word “church” should remind us of our Gospel readings from the past two weeks. Remember: Who is the person, the “rock,” on whom Jesus built his church? Peter. Peter did many things right, but also quite a number of things wrong. What did Jesus do whenever Peter made a mistake? Jesus always invited him back. Remember: “Opiso mou.” If the foundation of our church is “rocky” but never shunned, what then is the church being called to do? Again, there may be hiya and hurt in the encounter—as when Jesus rebuked Peter last week and called out his little faith four weeks ago—but the intent is always reconciliation, to bring people back to the fold.
We return to the second and first steps. Taking one or two others and, before that, talking to the person directly are not just about launching a confrontation or cornering an enemy with reinforcements. Our Gospel today ends with this comfort, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” But this is also a command: “You must gather ‘in my name.’” This doesn’t mean just mouthing the formula “in Jesus’ name.” It means seeing with Jesus’ eyes, feeling with his heart, and acting as he does. Remember again what Jesus always does: He calls us to come closer to him. Maaari ka ngang mahiya, pero mas matimbang ang nais kong ikaw ay mahalin. (You may indeed feel shame, but my desire to love you carries far greater weight.)
All these musings about hiya have made me realize something else: I have difficulty giving feedback because I also have difficulty in receiving feedback. I’m afraid to get embarrassed. I do not want to be shamed. What if, when I talk to the person who has offended me, they tell me I have also offended them? What if, when I bring others and the church into the matter, I am told that I am the one who is actually in the wrong? That is a possibility we must also be open to when we give feedback.
But all these musings about “mas matimbang ang nais kong ikaw ay mahalin” also give me courage. This will not end in condemnation but in being called back.
Your prayer assignment this week:
How are you with giving and receiving feedback? We can surf the Internet and find tips like waiting for the right time (which shouldn’t be too long after the event and only when the other party is ready), being specific, addressing the act rather than the person, and adopting the sandwich method of framing critique between two positive observations. But in the end, tactics are not enough. One needs to be brave.
A song from my childhood comes to mind as a gentle reflection companion as you give yourself feedback about how you give and receive feedback:
You must try to be brave, little one…
(because feedback can make you feel small)
Someone’s waiting to love you
(kahit may hiya, mas matimbang pa rin ang pagnanais na ika’y mahalin).
Fr. Francis teaches Theology, Education and Scripture at both the Ateneo de Manila University and Loyola School of Theology. As a classroom teacher, he is first and foremost a student. As a professor, he sees himself primarily as a pastor.
