Work together to destroy gossip, build up body of Christ

Published: March 3, 2016

By Matthew Glover
Chancellor for Canonical Affairs

There’s an episode in the fictional political TV series “The West Wing” where Toby Ziegler, the White House communications director, confronts his entire staff after one of them leaked a private conversation to the press.

Rather than berating them for betraying confidences, he appealed to their better angels, reminding them what being part of a team is all about: “We’re a group. We’re a team. We win together, we lose together, we celebrate and we mourn together. And defeats are softened and victories sweetened because we did them together . ..."

"It’s great to be in the know. It’s great to have the scoop, to have the skinny, to be able to go to (another) and say, ‘I know something you don’t know.’ ... I’m simply gonna say this: you’re my guys, and I’m yours, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Self-control is rarely easy (Lent reminds us of that). Not a week goes by that there’s not new drama — with families or friends, in our schools or parishes. And not a week goes by that we’re not tempted to share that drama with others.

Although Toby was Jewish, his modern-day message echoes ancient Christian wisdom on the same stuff. St. Paul warned the people of Thessalonica that gossip can destroy the body of Christ: “We hear that some are ... not keeping busy but minding the business of others.” (2 Thessalonians 3:11)

Likewise, James considered the tongue perhaps the most powerful weapon in the human arsenal — capable of both spreading the Gospel and stoking the destructive fires of gossip. And if anyone “who does not control his tongue imagines that he is devout, he is self-deceived.” (James 1:26)

I may pray daily, attend Mass every Sunday, perform corporal and spiritual works of mercy and have a solid understanding of what the Catholic Church teaches and why. However, as James warns, I am deceiving myself if I think that I can be truly “devout” without also controlling my tongue.

As Paul says elsewhere, if I “have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing.” If I can’t control my tongue, then my faith — no matter how well I may understand it — is reduced to nothing.

Self-control is rarely easy (Lent reminds us of that). Not a week goes by that there’s not new drama — with families or friends, in our schools or parishes. And not a week goes by that we’re not tempted to share that drama with others.

Sometimes those others are people who really do need to know, and we may even have an obligation to make sure that they know. But many times, perhaps even most of the time, we’re tempted to spread news of the drama just because we can.

Pope Francis recently called this temptation the “the terrorism of gossip.” Not one to mince words, Francis called a gossiper “a terrorist that throws a bomb and destroys — gossip destroys.” But it’s not only the reputation of the other that is destroyed. We, too, are damaged; the entire body of Christ is hurt. Francis compares gossip to rotten candy, which “at the beginning seems to be something enjoyable and fun ... but at the end, it fills the heart with bitterness and also poisons us.”

As I write all this, I know full well that I, too, have been guilty of unnecessarily spreading gossip. And I know that I will no doubt fall to this same temptation again. For the sake of my own faith, of my own salvation, I hope I’m reminded of this article the next time I’m tempted to spread gossip unnecessarily.

Or the next time I’m tempted to tell someone, “I know something you don’t know.” Or the next time I’m tempted to spread someone else’s drama, rather than spreading news that builds up the body of Christ.

If St. Paul were writing about the body of Christ today, he might well say, like Toby Ziegler, that we win together and we lose together; we celebrate and we mourn together; our defeats are softened and our victories sweetened because we did them together. We’re a team. So, this Lent, rather than spreading another teammate’s drama, perhaps we simply tell that teammate: “You’re mine, and I’m yours and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Understanding Our Church

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