Of Another Means to Do Our Ministrations Well Is to Keep Our Eyes on the Soul That Makes the Inner Man, and Not on Outward and Exterior Appearances

ONE of the chief warnings that saints and masters of spiritual life give to those who have to deal with their neighbor, is to keep their eyes on souls and not on bodies nor outward appearances. There are some, says St. Bernard, who look at the exterior, and fix their eyes on the well-featured and clean-limbed, on the well-dressed and well-groomed—these are their favorites and they delight in dealing with such; but those who make a wholesome use of their eyes look only at the interior of the soul, which is not more beautiful in a beautiful than in an ugly body, unless in that beautiful body there be a more beautiful soul than in the ugly one. But be the person ugly or beautiful, the soul is most beautiful if it is not befouled with sin; and the purer and clearer it is of sins, the more beautiful it is and the more adorned with virtues and heavenly gifts. Of no profit is the visible beauty of the body if the invisible beauty of the soul is wanting; the one is common to us with inanimate things and brute animals, but the other we share with the angels. We ought, says St. Bernard, to go there within and fix our eyes on the soul, which is made in the image and likeness of the most holy Trinity, and consider it as a living temple of the Holy Ghost and a member of Christ all bathed, as it were, in His blood, bought and redeemed at the price of His life. We should condole with it if we see it disfigured and befouled with sin, and feel great sentiment of compassion if we see thrown away upon it the price so dear which it has cost the Son of God. As for the body and all the outward man, we should keep off from it as much as is possible, and make no more account of it than of a sack of dung, a bag of uncleanness and a dunghill covered with snow, or a sepulcher whited outside, for such is our body. And to such a degree do our instructors wish this to be observed, and with such care and caution would they have us walk that, as Gerson says, we should not notice whether the penitent or the person we are speaking to has agreeable features or the reverse, nor reflect whether it be man or woman, but fix our eyes on souls alone and their cure, abstracting from all the rest and making no account of it, for these differences do not affect souls.

This advice is of much importance; in the first place, because in this way our love will be spiritual, true charity in God and for God and unto God alone; the other is a carnal and sensual love, and very dangerous. In the second place, this advice is also very important to those of us who have to deal with our neighbor, to encourage us in our functions to exercise them as we ought, giving as hearty welcome to the poor and destitute as to the rich and powerful; seeing that the poor man in the workhouse, and the ragged beggar who comes to confession, has cost God as much for his soul as the knight and the well-dressed visitor. St. Ambrose quotes to this purpose the example of Christ our Redeemer, of Whom we read (John iv. 47) that He would not go to the house of the ruler to cure his son— though the father asked him, and had come in person with this request—that He might not seem to be moved by the fact that both the sick man and he who brought the request were persons of wealth and position. On the other hand we see that He offered to go to the house of the centurion to cure a servant of his, though the centurion had not come himself with the request, but had used the mediation of others (Luke vii. 2-6), that He might not seem to be disdaining to visit the sick person because he was a poor youth. This to give us an example, says St. Ambrose, how to behave with our neighbor, not paying regard to the rich, nor the well-born, nor the well-dressed, but to souls alone.

Our eyes and our heart should overlook this distinction of classes, welcoming as heartily the poor man and the stableboy and the slave as the knight and the lord; since before God bondman and freeman, servant and master, are all one, as St. Paul says (Gal. iii. 28) ; God died for the one as for the other, and very possibly loves and values the beggar more than the grandee.

If our love be quite pure and spiritual, we shall be inclined more to converse with the poor than with the rich, with the lowly than with the great, and that for many reasons. First, to copy the example which Christ our Redeemer gave us, aS we have said. Secondly, because in these poor humble folk there better shines forth the image of Christ, who being rich made himself poor for our sakes, to enrich us with his poverty, as the Apostle says (II Cor. viii. 9). Thirdly, because in this way we are safer and surer of seeking God in our ministries and doing them purely for Him. In dealing with persons of quality and distinction, human considerations very often come in and we seek ourselves and our own tastes and credit. These transactions are not so safe, nor always so pure and clear of dust and chaff; sometimes that is vanity which has the appearance of zeal. Fourthly, because thus we keep ourselves better in humility. Fifthly, because it is seen by experience that more good is done with the one class of folk than with the other; the poor are they who frequent the confessional and attend better at sermons; and so we see that even with Christ our Redeemer the poor were they who followed Him most and profited most by His doctrine. The poor have the gospel preached to them, says the holy Gospel (Matt. xi. 5). Of the wealthy and leading men there came one here and there, such as Nicodemus, who was a leader among the Jews; and even of him the Apostle St. John says that he came to see Jesus Christ secretly and by night (John iii. 2).

Another thing, to simple folk we tell home truths more plainly, and rebuke what is amiss in them with greater liberty, and they take it better. It is easier for a confessor to do what he wishes with them; whereas with men of rank there has to be sometimes some drawing in; the confessor does not dare to say so much to them, and purses his lips to tell them what is necessary, and is often left with scruples and remorse of conscience for not having spoken more plainly and having humored them and temporized with them too much. Again, great people take up a deal of your time, and in that time there is little or no good done; but with simple folk much is done in a short time, because there and then you can come to the point with them, and the whole conversation turns on what really matters, which is not the case with the others. On this account spiritual men, men detached from the world, lovers of their own spiritual progress and anxious to do real good to other people, do their best to avoid all dealings with lords and grandees, reckoning their company for a nuisance. So the saints often advise us, according to the saying of the Wise Man: He takes a burden on himself, who deals with the high and mighty (Ecclus. xiii. 2). So we see that in religion they are much valued and esteemed, and with good reason, who set themselves to hear the confessions of the poor and the black man, and servants and ragged beggars. I’ll warrant you that the others will never want a confessor; and if it happen that there be anyone of whom you think that any kind turn done to him would make much for the service of God, you, if you are humble, should think that some other father of those who hear confessions in the church will do the job better than you and with less danger to himself; and do you meanwhile lend a hand to that poor man who possibly has been up several times and has had to go away without confession.