Even Jesus had to ask who we thought He was.
I am an obedient son to my parents, protective of my children, companion to my spouse, caring about my brothers and sisters, mindful of my neighbour, compliant as an employee, paternal as a boss, fraternal to my colleagues and friends, submissive to the law, combative with those who are pushy, reverent and submissive to my God, my provider, protector, and redeemer, who combines in Him what the better version of me is attempting to be to others, without ever fully succeeding. I am one, yet I am many. Almost diabolic.
We are not the same person from one moment to the next, because we are not with the same person. Over the years, we change physically, mature mentally and emotionally, and become more or less secure.
We are the same person, and we are not. This duality goes unnoticed except by those who notice it and form an opinion about us. The Johari Window illustrates this phenomenon about ourselves.
The Johari Window is a self-awareness model created by American psychologists Joseph Luft and Harrington Ingham in 1955. Originally designed as a tool for group dynamics research, it helps people understand the gap between how they see themselves and how others see them.
The Johari Window divides personal traits into four quadrants. The Arena (Public Self) contains traits known to both you and others — the transparent zone of interpersonal interaction. The Blind Spot holds traits others can see, but you are unaware of — often the most eye-opening discoveries. The Facade (Hidden Self) covers traits you know about yourself but choose not to reveal. The Unknown contains traits that neither you nor others have yet discovered.
When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (Mt 16:13-16)
Jesus was obedient to his Father to the point of death. He was mindful of his mother. Hanging on the cross, Jesus entrusted his mother to the care of the apostle he loved, John. To the Judeans, who witnessed his miracles, He was a prophet. A preacher and healer. To his apostles, He was a teacher. To Pharisees, Sadducees, and Scribes, He was their nemesis. To his brothers and sisters, He was a neighbourhood kid, pretending to be a prophet, not deserving honour in his own hometown.
To Martha, Jesus needed to be served. For Mary, He needed to be listened to and anointed with the most expensive perfume in anticipation of His death. Mary took a jar of special perfume that cost much money and poured it on the feet of Jesus. She dried His feet with her hair. The house was filled with the smell of the special perfume. (Jn 12:3)
Who am I to those who are troubled? Especially those who have marital issues or property issues or are into alcoholism, drugs, and live a permissive life. I am judgmental and supercilious, deprecating, with ill-formed advice, expressing neither sympathy nor empathy for the situations they find themselves in - having never personally experienced the situation at play.
Joe and Harry, the creators of the self-awareness model - the Johari Window don’t have a quadrant for this situation. You don’t know what the other person is going through, but you feel you need to weigh in with advice on what the person should or should not have done when confronted with a certain, unappealing reality of a relationship gone sour.
We have probably heard about the five stages of grief as elucidated by Dr Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her book On Death and Dying. They are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
In the context of infidelity, a Damocles sword that hangs over every marriage, either partner can fall prey to temptation and give in. It could be an innocent dalliance, or an ongoing insidious relationship, or one that, in a moment of weakness, becomes a highly visible factor when everything is out in the open.
Here is the point. It need not be in the open. The damage could be contained if the two affected parties, the perpetrator of the misdeed and the affected, show maturity and negotiate a peace.
The victim consciously chooses to keep the matter under wraps, works through the five stages of grief, and arrives at acceptance, knowing that the alternative is a minefield of gossip and exploitation.
Keeping it private provides room for healing, reparation, and even restoration, far better than public humiliation in the hands of vested interests. Worse, being cast as the provoker of the situation, the victim as villain and extortionist, and the perpetrator as the unfortunate, hapless victim.
St. Joseph showed such maturity in dealing with the news of Mary being with a child. Because Joseph, her husband, was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly. (Mt 1:19)
Is this the intellect on overdrive (being supercilious), but is it worth asking: if there isn’t a modicum of truth, privacy over revenge for the hurt caused? Seeking time to deliberate instead of going nuclear? Having it out in private, rather than washing dirty linen in public. Whom does it help? Only those who foment the situation to their mischievous advantage.
- Mathew Anthony
