XII — CHARITY ADAPTS TO EVERYTHING

Presence of God. — O God, who adapt Yourself to my misery even to becoming man like me, teach me to adapt myself to my brethren.

Meditation

1 — Charity is not rigid in its positions; it does not wait for, much less demand, that others adapt to it, but is always ready to adapt to neighbor. God adapted Himself to us to the point of becoming man, and we do not know how to descend from the little pedestal of our pride to adapt to the mentality, tastes, and needs of our brethren. And we excuse ourselves: “they are wrong, uncouth, ungrateful, they do not understand certain requirements, certain refinements...” and we deceive ourselves! How petty we are in our foolish demands! Let us look at Him: the Son of God, the eternal Word, who did not disdain to put Himself at our level even to clothing Himself with our mortal flesh, to living our human life, to dwelling among us. In his earthly life He chose as companions not intellectual persons of refined education, but ignorant fishermen of rough mentality, simple tastes, who knew very little of the refinements of thought and etiquette; and He lived with them, adapting Himself to them with complete naturalness, without any distinction except that of a charity without limits.

Evidently we cannot adapt ourselves to neighbor, condescend to his desires, when God’s honor and observance of his law are at stake, even slightly. In such cases condescension would be culpable weakness. But there are many other cases in which it is only a matter of renouncing the assertion of our personality, our way of seeing, our tastes, to make room for others’ mentality and tastes. Then this condescension is solid virtue and, far from being weakness, is a beautiful proof of moral strength: that strength which knows how to conquer and deny the self for love of God.

No lasting charity, no perfect concord is possible without this flexibility that makes us capable of adapting to others. Only when we are firmly resolved to pass over all differences of temperament, mentality, education, tastes, and to yield our points of view to accommodate ourselves to those of neighbor, can the cause of fraternal charity be said to be won.

2 — In the Gospel we find beautiful lessons in condescension: “To the one who wants to go to law with you and take your tunic, yield also your cloak; and with one who forces you to go one mile, go with him two. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who asks to borrow” (Mt. 5:40-42). The divine Master decisively urges us to longanimity, to meekness, to renunciation of our rights, so that we may humbly place ourselves at neighbor’s service, sacrifice ourselves generously for him, for his advantage, for his joy. Instead of wrangling or arguing to resist the importunate brother and get the upper hand, Jesus teaches us always to yield, even before certain indiscreet requests.

St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus comments thus on this Gospel passage: “To yield the cloak means, it seems to me, renouncing one’s strict rights, considering oneself servant and slave of others. But it is not enough that I give to one who asks me. I must anticipate desires and show myself very much obliged and honored to render service to neighbor; if something for my use is taken from me, I must show myself very happy to be freed from it” (St. 9). Yet the saint has no illusions: she knows very well that, especially when a service, a favor, or an object is asked of us rudely, in a tone of demand and command, self-love is at once ready to resent and protest. “The soul that is not yet established in perfect charity immediately rebels, finding then a thousand reasons to refuse what is asked” (ibid.). But one who wishes to reach full charity does not yield to these internal rebellions and, doing violence to self, gently places himself at neighbor’s disposal.

If before others’ requests we answer with frequent refusals, it means our charity is still very weak, nor should we be quick to take refuge in excuses: “I have no time... these are unjust demands... he must learn to do by himself,” and the like. It is true, however, that in certain cases, either not to fail in one’s duty or because of real impossibility, one is constrained to answer with a denial; but even in these cases charity must make us avoid all discourteous manners that mortify and humiliate. “When charity has put deep roots in a soul, it shows itself also externally, and there is so courteous a way of refusing what cannot be given, that the refusal gives pleasure as much as the gift itself” (ibid.).

Colloquy

“I cannot, my God, not love your creatures, because You Yourself have commanded it to me. You are love and by love were moved to create man, so that he too might participate in your love. We all, therefore, were created of love, in love, and with love, that we might enjoy You, O God, who are love. How then shall I not love?

“Tell me, I beg You, O my Christ, in what manner I must love this neighbor of mine. You show me a very high term, that is, You teach me to love him as You Yourself have loved him. For human creatures You left, at least in appearance, the bosom of the Father; You left, or rather You hid, your power, wisdom, and infinite purity in order to converse with the impurity of creatures. And I too, for my neighbors, must leave myself and the love of all created things, and be ready, when necessary for their salvation, to give my blood.

“O charity, how beautiful and pleasing to God you are! You act like the sweet pelican, who gives its own blood not only for its young but also for enemies. And truly he who possesses you regards no one as enemy, but holds all as most dear friends, and would even give his life for the soul of neighbor when there were need.

“O love of neighbor so little known by many! You, O God, who are searcher of hearts, know love and hatred, while we say we love neighbor when we offend him. Oh, how different your judgments are from ours! You teach me that for love of neighbor I must know how to renounce my comforts, I must incline my ears to the little, the poor, the needy in soul and body, and I must answer with sweetness and meekness” (St. Mary Magdalene de’ Pazzi).