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“Come to me, all you who are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you. Take my yolk upon your shoulders and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart. Your souls will find rest, for my yoke is easy and my burden light.”
Being humble and gentle is about trying to embody the words of Jesus found in St. Matthew's Gospel: “Come to me, all you who are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you. Learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart.”
Humility might be described as “living in the truth”. The truth is that we are created in God's image and likeness. The truth is that we are good. The truth is that we do not always live up to that goodness. The truth is that we need God’s forgiveness and grace to make that goodness real. The truth is that we need the support and encouragement of one another.
Gentleness might be described as the practice of proportionality. It is about keeping things in perspective. It is about knowing when to stand firm. It is about knowing when to give ground. Most of all, whether in good times, tough times or in all the times in between, gentleness is about relating to ourselves and others with profound respect and reverence and with a graciousness rooted in the recognition that each of us - all of us - are sons and daughters of the living God.
The daily practice of these two virtues fashions a particular kind of heart in those who follow Jesus: a heart that longs and strives for justice. “Be just and equitable in all your actions,” wrote St. Francis de Sales in Part Three, Chapter 36 of The Introduction to the Devout Life. “Always put yourself in your neighbor's place and put your neighbor in yours, and then you will judge rightly.” He continued: “Imagine yourself the seller when you are buying; imagine yourself the buyer when you are selling. In this way you will sell and buy according to justice.”
This is not always easy to do. We are frequently tempted to relate to others in ways that are not just, that are not reasonable. We are tempted to promote only our own concerns, to first ask “What's in it for me?” or to always be concerned about taking care of “#1”.
At times like these, “we have two hearts,” says St. Francis de Sales. “One heart is mild, favorable and courteous toward ourselves; the other is hard, severe and rigorous toward our neighbor.” At times like these we have “two balances: the one to weigh out conveniences to our own greatest advantages, and the other to weigh those of our neighbor to their greatest possible disadvantage.”
St. Francis de Sales challenges us: “Do not neglect to frequently examine whether your heart be such with respect to your neighbor as you would desire your neighbor's to be with respect to you, were you in the other's situation.”
Such an ordinary thing. Such an everyday thing. In the Salesian tradition, such a powerful, life-giving thing. In the end, St. Francis de Sales claims, we “lose nothing by living generously, nobly, courteously, and with a royal, just and reasonable heart.”
Not only do we lose nothing; Jesus promises us that by living humbly and gently we will find everything for which we all long…rest for our souls: not later in heaven, but even right here, right now, on earth
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“Courage! Your faith has saved you…”
How many times does Jesus make this statement (or ones similar to it) in the context of performing a miracle? Some might interpret his words as gratuitous; they might view these words as Jesus’ attempt to make the beneficiaries patronize them into thinking that they contributed – somehow, even in some small way - to the releasing of His life-changing power.
Those who would interpret Jesus’ words as patronizing would be wrong – dead wrong.
When Jesus says, “Your faith has saved you”, He is simply speaking the truth. The two miracles in today’s Gospel illustrate this point. In both cases (an official with a dead daughter and a woman with a chronic illness) the story that ends with the woman being cured from her hemorrhage and the daughter being raised from the dead were set into motion because someone had the courage to approach Jesus with a request and/or an intuition: “Come, lay your hand on her, and she will live” and “If only I can touch his cloak, I shall be cured”.
What if the official had been too proud to ask Jesus for help? What if the woman had been too ashamed to reach out to Jesus? Fortunately for them, each of them were (1) humble enough to acknowledge their need, and (2) courageous enough to ask for help.
How about us? Are there any needs that we (or those we love) have that we believe only Jesus has the power to address? Are we humble enough to name those needs for ourselves? Are we courageous enough to bring those needs to Jesus?
Do you believe your faith in Jesus can save you?
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“At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved…”
In commenting upon the Beatitude, “Blessed are those who mourn…” William Barclay wrote: “It is first of all to be noted about this beatitude that the Greek word for to mourn – used here – is the strongest word for mourning in the Greek language. It is the mourning that is used for mourning for the dead, for the passionate lament for one who was loved…it is defined as the kind of grief that takes such a hold on a man that it cannot be hidden. It is not only the sorrow which brings an ache to the heart; it is the sorrow which brings the unrestrained tear to the eyes…” (The Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of Matthew, Volume 1, p. 93)
And in the case of Jesus, it is the sorrow that also releases miraculous power.
In his Introduction to the Devout Life, Francis de Sales cites one of two virtues associated with mourning or sadness: “Compassion”. (IDL, Part IV, Chapter 12, p. 253) At the sight of the man with a dead daughter and the woman with a chronic illness in yesterday’s Gospel, Jesus’ heart was deeply moved: the woman was cured, and the girl was raised. In today’s Gospel Jesus’ heart was deeply moved as He taught in synagogues, proclaimed the Gospel of the Kingdom, and cured every disease and illness. At the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved. Feeling overwhelmed by the sheer size and scale of the neediness that He himself was encountering in others, Jesus asked His disciples to pray that God send more laborers for His harvest. In tomorrow’s Gospel, Jesus’ heart will move Him to go a step further with this request: He himself will commission his disciples to be those very laborers.
Whenever Jesus’ heart was moved by the sight of others’ needs, power was released in Him: the people were taught, the sick were healed, the possessed were freed, the lost were found, the dead were raised. These actions are the heart of compassion. It’s not enough to feel sorry for someone else’s plight. Compassion requires that we do something to address another’s plight. Compassion is more than just feeling; compassion is more about doing.
At the sight of other people’s needs, are our hearts moved? And if once our hearts are moved, do we act as Jesus did - with compassion?
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“Sow for yourselves justice, reap the fruit of piety.”
Wikipedia defines piety as “a virtue that can mean religious devotion, spirituality or a combination of both. A common element in most conceptions is humility.” Merriam-Webster defines piety as (1) “the quality of being religious or reverent,” and (2) “the quality of being dutiful.” Synonyms include: “devoutness, godliness, religiousness and devotion.”
In a letter to Madame de Limojon, Francis de Sales wrote: “I have said this to you in person, madam, and now I write it: I don’t want a devotion that is bizarre, confused, neurotic, strained, and sad, but rather, a gentle, attractive, peaceful piety; in a word, a piety that is quite spontaneous and wins the love of God, first of all, and after that, the love of others.” (Letters of Spiritual Direction, p. 156)
As Francis de Sales understood it, piety is less a function of how many prayers we say, how many spiritual exercises we perform or how many hours we spend on our knees (although these things do have their place!). No piety is more about being devout, about being “dutiful,” that is, about honoring what is due to God and honoring what is due to our neighbor.
In other words, piety is about justice; piety is about doing what is right.
In his Treatise on the Love of God, (Book XI, Chapter 3, p. 202) Francis observed: “Of all virtuous actions we ought most carefully practice those of religion and reverence for divine things. Such are the acts of faith, hope and holy fear of God. We must often speak of heavenly things, think of eternity and sigh for it, frequent churches and sacred services, read devout books and observe the ceremonies of the Christian religion…” Provided, of course, that all these nourish “sacred love.”
Today, do you want to reap “the fruit of piety”? Then sow justice for God; sow justice for others.
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“Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.”
In a conference to the Visitation Sisters on “Generosity,” Francis de Sales remarked:
“The humility that does not produce generosity is undoubtedly false, for after it has said, ‘I can do nothing, I am absolute nothingness,’ it suddenly gives rise to generosity of spirit that says, ‘There is nothing – and there can be nothing – that I am unable to do, so long as I put all my confidence in God who can do all things.’” (Living Jesus, p. 152)
Consider all the things that Jesus did for those whose lives He touched – curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing lepers and driving out demons, all without expecting anything in return. So it’s easy to understand how His apostles might have been tempted to simply stand in awe of His power. That said, Jesus didn’t want them just to stand in awe, but Jesus also wanted them to imitate his example by doing the same works as He did – curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing lepers and driving our demons, all without expecting anything in return.
And to experience the awe of His power by sharing it with others.
It’s tempting to simply stand in awe of God’s love for us. It’s humbling when we stop to consider how generous God has been to us purely out of the goodness of His heart without any cost on our part. What return can we possibly make? By being generous to others without cost to them.
Out of the goodness of our hearts!
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“Straight are the paths of the Lord: in them the just walk, but sinners stumble in them.”
When we hear these words from the Book of the Prophet Hosea, it’s easy to ask the question: who are the just who walk in the paths of the Lord; who are the sinners who stumble in them? As it turns out, both are one in the same.
In his Introduction to the Devout Life, Francis de Sales wrote:
“Ostriches never fly; hens fly in a clumsy fashion, near the ground, and only once in a while, but eagles, doves and swallows fly aloft, swiftly and frequently. In like manner, sinners in no way fly up towards God, but make their whole course upon the earth and for the earth. Good people who have not as yet attained to devotion fly toward God by their good works but do so infrequently, slowly and awkwardly. Devout souls ascend to him more frequently, promptly and with lofty flights.” (IDL, Part I, Chapter 1, p. 40)
Not to put too fine a point on it, but when it comes to walking the paths of the Lord, we are all the just and the sinners alike. There is something of the ostrich, something of the hen and something of the eagle in all of us. We crawl in God’s paths; we stumble in God’s path; we fall in God’s paths; we walk and sometimes we run in God’s paths, on occasion, we even manage to fly in God’s paths.
Bottom line? Regardless of how we manage to make our way in life, the thing to keep straight is that’s it’s God’s path that we are called to walk.
Regardless of how weakly, awkwardly or well we walk it!
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“Here I am - send me!”
Have you ever been at a meeting during which some really pressing issue was raised and/or examined, after which one or more people exclaimed, “We need to do something about this!’ or “Somebody has to address this!” only to discover in the days and weeks afterward that when they said “we” or “somebody”, they didn’t mean “me”?
Have you ever been y of doing the same thing? Have you ever expected – perhaps even demanded - that something be done, but that “something” should have nothing to do with you?
Not so in the case of the prophet Isaiah. Deeply aware of his own sinfulness, imperfection and unworthiness, when God asked the question, “Whom shall I send?” and “Who will go for us?” Isaiah didn’t offer a list with other people’s names – Isaiah didn’t say, “I’ll wait until someone else goes first.” – he didn’t point a forefinger into his own chest and ask, “You’re not looking at me, are you”? He immediately said, “Send me.”
Come to think of it, that sounds an awful lot like the person of Jesus himself. When the Father looked for the best way of saving us from our sins, Jesus, said, “Send me!”.
Remember Francis de Sales’ description of a devout person? “He not only walks but runs and leaps forward ‘in the way of God’s commandments.’” (IDL, Part I, Chapter 2, p. 41)
Should it become obvious that there is something “in the way of God’s commands” that need to be accomplished today, don’t look around for somebody else – don’t wait for someone else to make the first move – don’t hope that somebody else will raise their hand. Stand up, step forward and say, “Send me!”.
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