My book, The Teacher, explores aspects of daily life that touch us all, and considers the best way to approach them. It does so, though, not on the basis of some arbitrary judgement of my own, but exploring rather words of the Teacher (almost certainly, King Solomon) from the Old Testament. Then, and only then, do I reflect further on what these words may have to say to us today. This session explores the importance of being ready to accept criticism and learn from it.
Criticism
I shared my thoughts with others, certain they would agree, but they shook their heads and questioned my reasoning. And they showed weaknesses in arguments I’d thought strong, bias in what I’d considered impartial, inconsistencies in what I’d believed held together.
Yet, far from learning from their insights, I was piqued, reluctant to listen further. So I dug in my heels and clung to my opinion, even though I knew it to be flawed.
Then I said to the Teacher, ‘Speak to me of criticism, of what it may teach us if we have ears to hear.’
And the Teacher answered me, ‘A wise criticism is like a gold ring or an ornament to those who are willing to listen.’
‘How so?’ I asked.
‘Whoever takes note of good advice,’ continued the Teacher, ‘is on the path to life, but those who reject criticism go astray. Anyone who ignores wise counsel despises themselves, but whoever heeds reproof grows in understanding.’
‘But criticism belittles people,’ I protested. ‘Should we not build each other up instead?’
‘It is much better to be criticised honestly for your faults,’ answered the Teacher, ‘than to have someone, out of a misplaced sense of love, keep them from you.’
Then I realised that though criticism is not always well founded, it is always worth considering, for it can help us to see what we would otherwise fail to notice. For though we think we understand our weaknesses, most of us are our own worst critic in everything except that in which we should be. For what we cannot bear to countenance, we rarely dare to consider.
Yet that to which we close our ears is often what we most need to hear, and what is closest to the truth is what we push furthest from our thoughts.
Better, though, to see our faults for what they are than mistake them for virtues. Better to get real than maintain an illusion. Praise may sharpen the ego, but criticism hones the character.
I saw also that before we criticise we must look first into our own heart, for the faults we condemn in others are too often those most deeply rooted in ourselves.
And I saw that if our words are to be more than empty carping or vindictive censure, they must be delivered gently and with love, never spoken with resentment or relish, but aiming to bless rather than curse, strengthen rather than undermine, add rather than subtract.
What I have learnt is this: the surest way to get above ourselves is to think we’re above criticism. So then, before we reject what is painful to hear, better to reflect on it first, for though the truth may hurt, it may also heal. And though too much criticism may crush the spirit, too little will surely swell the head.