How Important It Is for a Religious to Avoid Visits to Relations and Journeys to His Own Native Place

AS regards the love and affection that we should bear our kindred, our Father lays us down a rule that well suits all religious. “Let each one of those that enter the Society, following the counsel of Christ our Lord, He that leaveth Father, and so forth (Matt. xix. 29), account that he is leaving father and mother, and brothers and sisters, and all that he had in the world; nay, more, let him take as spoken to himself that word: He that hateth not father and mother, yea and his own soul, cannot be my disciple (Luke xiv. 26) ; and so he ought to endeavor to destroy all the carnal affection that he had for his relations and convert it into spiritual, loving them solely with that love which well-ordered charity requires, as one who, dead to the world and to self-love, lives only for Christ our Lord, holding Him in place of parents and brethren and all things.” It is not enough to leave the world in body; we must leave it in heart also, destroying all affections that attach thereto and incline us to worldly things. There is no harm in loving a relation because he is a relation; nay, on that account he ought to be more loved than another person who is no relation of yours; but if this love rests on natural grounds alone, it is not a love peculiar to a Christian, much less to a religious, since all men, however inhuman and barbarous, wish well to their parents and to those who are bound to them by ties of blood.

But the Christian, and much more the religious, says St. Gregory, ought to ennoble this natural love and purify it by fire in the crucible of divine love, and love his kindred, not so much because nature inclines him to love them, as because God commands him to love them. He should cut off everything that might do him harm and separate him from the love of the Sovereign Good; he should love them solely to the purpose for which God loves them and to that for which He wishes us to love them. And this is the meaning of our rule—that we should eliminate all carnal affection and convert it into spiritual, making of self-love, love of charity; and of love of the flesh, love of the spirit. And the reason is this, that the religious ought to be dead to the world and self-love; and so there ought not to live in him now the love of the world, but solely the love of Christ. And our Father rests this rule on texts of Holy Scripture, a thing that he is not accustomed to do in other rules and constitutions, though he might easily have done it, since the doctrine of our Constitutions is taken from the Gospel; but his one object was to give us this doctrine in the plainness and sincerity in which he had received it from God. But coming to treat of kindred, he at once rests what he says on texts of Scripture, as we see also how, when dealing with the matter of leaving one’s property to one’s relations, he at once quotes the Scripture text which says, He distributed and gave to the poor (Psalm cxi. 9), and the counsel of Christ, Give to the poor (Matt. xix. 21). He did not say, Give to thy relations, but Give to the poor. Our Father saw well that all this was here necessary, for that this affection is so natural, and with it we are all born, and it is so rooted in our hearts and has such a power over us.

This is a matter of great importance for a religious, and is treated of at length by Saints Basil, Gregory, Bernard, and many others. We will put together briefly the substance of it. St. Basil exposes very well how becoming it is for a religious to shun intercourse and conversation with his relations and excuse himself from visits and journeys to the place of his birth. He gives many reasons which will evince the importance of this. Besides the fact of our doing no good among our relations thereby, we get from it much harm to our souls. They tell us of their troubles, their lawsuits, the loss of property and social position, and all their griefs and vexations; and so we come back to our house laden with all that gives them pain. Moreover, we put ourselves thereby in many occasions of sin in many different ways and manners, because from this association with our relations there readily springs up again the memory of the events of our past life, which is often no small occasion of sin. Thereby old wounds are reopened and bleed afresh, as we call to mind such a house, such a place, such an occurrence, and all that is associated therewith, which recollections may trouble us and do much harm. A strong reason for the harm that this does us may be found in the counsel that masters of spiritual life give, not to call to mind the sins of our past life in detail, even when our aim is to excite grief and contrition for them, but only in general, making, as it were, a bundle of them, that they may not come back to harass us again. How much more harmful would it be for us to take this occasion without necessity! You have no ground afterwards for complaining of the disturbance and harm that you experience, since you have sought it yourself and have got your deserts.

St. Basil further says that they who are fond of conversing with relations, gradually by such conversations imbibe and drink into their souls the evil habits and affections of the same. Thus taken up with worldly thoughts, the soul cools down, loses its fervor of spirit, loses steadfastness and firmness in its first purposes; thus it goes on getting secularized and unconsciously returning to the world, according to that saying of the prophet: They mingled with the Gentiles, and learned to do as they did, and served their idols and took scandal therefrom (Psalm cv. 35). What impression could be wrought upon the children of Israel from their stay among the Philistines except their being led to adore their idols and take scandal and ruin from them? The like impression will be wrought in you if you have intercourse with your relations. You will learn their worldly language, their walking not in truth (John viii. 44; II John i. 4; III John i. 3), but with falsehoods, hollow pretenses, and compliments, as is the way of the world; its idols please you, its petty honors and comforts; you are full of presumption and desire to have your own way, which is another bit of worldliness that has infected you.

St. Basil alleges another main reason showing how much it behooves us to shun intercourse and conversation with our relations. It is the great harm done by compassion and natural tenderness. Upon intercourse and conversation with our relations there naturally follows our being overjoyed at their prosperous fortunes, and grieved at their adversities and troubles, and burdened with thoughts and cares, wondering whether they have plenty of all that is needful, what it is that they are in want of, whether this employment they have taken up will prove a success, whether they will come well out of this business in respect of dignity or emolument. All such thoughts and cares go towards weakening and diminishing our virtue and spiritual strength, to such an extent that any subsequent temptation may come to overthrow us; for, says St. Basil, such a one is in the condition of a statue, wearing the habit of religion without having the true spirit of a religious. His body alone is in religion, but his heart is there in the world among his relations.

Cassian tells of a monk who set up his dwelling place near his relations, and they provided him with all necessaries, so that he had nothing to do but to attend to prayer and reading. He was very satisfied with the arrangement, taking it for a very quiet and peaceful life. He went one day on a visit to the great Anthony, and the saint asked him where he lived. He answered that he lived near his kinsfolk, that they supplied him with all necessaries, and that he had no other occupation but to give his mind to God. “Tell me,” asked the saint, “when any affliction comes upon your people, are you saddened thereat? And when things go well with them, do you rejoice at their prosperity?”’ He confessed openly that he shared both the one and the other; necessarily, he said, it could not be otherwise.. ‘Understand then, son,” said the saint, “that in the next life you will be counted in the number of those whose partner you have been in this in their joys and sorrows.” He will be counted among seculars in the next life who converses with them and about their affairs in this. For this reason, says St. Basil, it is very important for us to avoid intercourse and conversation with our relations; for, after all, as the proverb says, “What eyes see not, heart will not break over.” And as the actual giving up of our property, which we do by the vow of poverty, aids us to lose all affection for it; so the actual giving up of our relations, and neither dealing nor conversing with them, will make us forget this fleshly affection and deliver us from the great dangers that follow from it. We must be parted from them in deed to be detached from them in heart; the latter will not follow without the former. Maybe we are parted a long way from them, and yet our heart goes out to them; what would it be if we dealt and conversed with them?

This is the reason why in our order such visits of Ours to their native places are so strictly forbidden, as all know. But that so holy and profitable a prohibition may be possible to be carried into execution, it is necessary that we should help it on; and when your relations ask your superiors to give.you leave to go and see them, you should be the first to resist, and persuade them that such a visit is not at all the right thing for you. And for that, sufficient reasons will not fail you if you wish to find them; hereby relations are put off and remain content, to your satisfaction and sometimes also to their own. And this is what superiors desire, and are much edified thereby, when you say that it is not necessary and that you will cancel the proposal with them. For sometimes superiors cannot come to a satisfactory settlement in any other way with him who asks or with the intercessors whom they sometimes bring in, if you yourself do not come forward in the matter; and so they yield and give a permission which is Squeezed out of them—which is not an obedience, but a permission, and the superior had much rather you did not go. This is a very good plan, as well for this as for other like cases. When your relations or friends or penitents ask you to act, or take a hand in some affair which is not suited to our vocation, do not throw all the burden on the superior, obliging him either to break with them or grant their request. Do not push the thing to those lengths; divert your friends from their purpose with civil words, giving them to understand that it is not a thing within the purview of our profession. This is the part of good religious— not as some do, who, not to leave the petitioner offended with them, seek to throw the odium on superiors.

St. Jerome on those words of Christ: Be ye prudent as serpents (Matt. x. 16), says: “The example of a serpent is quoted, who with his whole body defends his head, in which his life is seated.” So we should always defend our head, who is our superior, and not let it be the other way about; that is to say, we should not expose the head that the body may escape a blow, nor to excuse ourselves throw the blame on the superior.. And we should be particularly careful of this in the case I am speaking of. And commonly the whole point of this and other like businesses rests with ourselves. Let one only will it, and the difficulties will easily resolve themselves. And so what I would advise in this matter to anyone who desires to do the right thing is, to begin with, to use all the endeavor he can to excuse himself from these visits; and when excuses fail, let him be compelled thereto by obedience, telling the superior if he apprehends any danger therein; and withal there is ground for apprehension, and he needs to go well prepared.

It is related of the Abbot Theodore that once his mother came to see him, fortified with many letters from bishops and prelates telling him to receive her. The holy Abbot Pacomius, his superior, gave the requisite permission. He replied: “Father, warrant me that at the day of judgment I shall not have to give an account of this visit, and I will pay it.” Then the holy abbot said: “Son, if you think it is not proper for you, I do not oblige you to it.’’ The one would not warrant it; the other would not pay the visit unless the superior took it on his conscience; and there the matter rested. And it turned out well; for his mother determined to take up her abode in a monastery of nuns hard by, of which those monks had care, with hopes of seeing some time amongst them her son. He did well in declining to pay those visits except out of pure obedience, and with his superior taking the matter on his conscience. That is the way for a good religious to visit his native place, when that has to be. And if we were well aware of what commonly comes of these visits, we should be more afraid of them and more eager to excuse ourselves from making them. Histories and lives of the Fathers are full of instances of monks’ coming to grief from such journeys. It would be well for us to gather experience at the expense of others and not suffer the loss in our own persons.

St. Basil writes: “If you are dead with Christ to your parents and kindred, why return again to their society and company? See what a bad case it is to take back again what you have once left for Christ’s sake; wherefore beware how you desert your post, your quiet and recollection, for the sake of your kinsfolk, lest in leaving your post you also leave your religious spirit and training’”—a thing that often happens. Jesus is not found among His kinsmen and acquaintance (Luke ii. 44-45). “How should I find Thee among my relations, O good Jesus, when Thou wert not found among Thine own?” asked St. Bernard. If you wish to find Him, seek Him not among your relations, but in the Temple, in prayer, in recollection, and you shall find Him. Of Father Francis Xavier we read in his Life that, when he came from Rome to Portugal to go thence to the Indies, he passed within four leagues of his native place, and never would go there to visit his relations and his mother, who was still alive, [morte depuis longtemps Brou, i. 87] for any importunity, though he knew that, if he let that opportunity slip, he should never have another of seeing them again. The like did Father Master Peter Faber, passing within five leagues of his home. And our blessed Father Ignatius, when he was forced to go to Loyola, would not lodge in his brother’s house, but in the hospital.