Chapter VI
Caritas benigna est.
He who loves Jesus Christ loves gentleness.
The spirit of gentleness is proper to God: Spiritus enim meus super mel dulcis (Eccli. XXIV, 27). Hence the soul that loves God loves all those whom God loves, that is, our neighbors; and so it willingly goes about always seeking to help everyone, to console everyone, and to please everyone, as far as it is permitted. St. Francis de Sales, who was the master and model of holy gentleness, says: "Humble gentleness is the virtue of virtues that God has so strongly commended to us; therefore it must be practiced always and everywhere." And so the saint gives us this rule: "What you see can be done with love, do it; and what cannot be done without conflict, leave it." It is always understood that what can be left without offense to God should be left, for an offense against God must always be prevented, promptly, by whoever is obliged to prevent it.
This gentleness must be practiced especially with the poor, who, ordinarily, because they are poor, are treated harshly by others. It must be used particularly with the sick, who are afflicted by their infirmity and are for the most part poorly attended by others. Most particularly, gentleness must be practiced with enemies. Vince in bono malum (Rom. XII, 21). We must overcome hatred with love and persecution with gentleness; so the saints did, and thereby won the affection of their most obstinate enemies.
There is nothing, says St. Francis de Sales, that so edifies our neighbors as charitable kindness in our dealings. The saint therefore habitually showed himself with a smile on his lips and a face that breathed kindness, accompanied by his words and gestures. Hence St. Vincent de Paul said he had never known a man more kind. He added that the Bishop of Geneva seemed to bear the very image of the kindness of Jesus Christ. Even in refusing what he could not grant without offending conscience, he showed himself so kind that others, though they did not obtain what they wanted, went away affectionate and content. He was kind with everyone — with superiors, with equals, and with inferiors, at home and away from home. Unlike those, as the same saint said, who seem angels outside the home and demons inside it. Even in dealing with servants, the saint never complained of their failings; he would barely mention them, but always with kind words. This is most commendable for all superiors. The superior should use every kindness with his subjects. In imposing what they must carry out, he should rather ask than command. St. Vincent de Paul used to say: "There is no better way for superiors to be obeyed by their subjects than gentleness." And likewise St. Jane Frances de Chantal said: "I have tried many methods in governing, but I have found none better than the gentle and patient one."
Even in correcting faults, the superior must be kind. It is one thing to correct with firmness, another to correct with harshness; it is sometimes necessary to correct with firmness when the fault is grave, and especially when it is repeated after the subject has already been warned; but let us be careful never to correct with harshness and anger; whoever corrects with anger does more harm than good. This is the bitter zeal reproved by St. James. Some boast of keeping their household in order by the harsh manner they use, and say that this is how one must govern; but St. James does not say so: Quod si zelum amarum habetis,... nolite gloriari (Iac. III, 14). If in some rare case it should be necessary to say a harsh word to make the offender understand the gravity of his fault, still, at the end, one should always leave him with something sweet — some kind word. Wounds must be healed, as the Good Samaritan of the Gospel did, with wine and oil. "But just as oil," said St. Francis de Sales, "always rises above all other liquids, so kindness must prevail in all our actions." And when the person who needs to be corrected is upset, one must then hold back the correction and wait until the anger passes; otherwise we will only provoke greater resentment. St. John, the canon regular, used to say: "When the house is on fire, one must not add wood to the flames."
Nescitis cuius spiritus estis (Luc. IX, 55). So said Jesus Christ to his disciples James and John, when they wanted the Samaritans who had driven them from their country to be punished. Ah, the Lord said to them, what spirit is this? This is not my spirit, which is all gentleness and kindness; for I came not to destroy but to save souls: Filius hominis non venit animas perdere sed salvare (Ibid. 56). And you would have me destroy them? Be silent, and make no more such requests of me, for this is not my spirit. And indeed, with what gentleness Jesus Christ treated the woman caught in adultery! Mulier, he said to her, nemo te condemnavit? nec ego te condemnabo: Vade, et iam amplius noli peccare (Io. VIII, 10, 11). He was content merely to warn her to sin no more, and he sent her away in peace. With what kindness, likewise, he sought to convert the Samaritan woman — and in doing so he converted her. First he asked her for a drink; then he said to her: Oh, if you knew who it is who asks you for a drink! And then he revealed to her that he was the expected Messiah. Furthermore, with what gentleness he sought to convert the wicked Judas, admitting him to eat from the same dish, washing his feet, and admonishing him in the very act of his betrayal: Judas, do you betray the Son of Man with a kiss? Iuda, osculo Filium hominis tradis? (Luc. XXII, 48). And how did he convert Peter after Peter had denied him? Here it is: Conversus Dominus respexit Petrum (Ibid. 61). Coming out of the high priest's house, without reproaching him for his sin, he looked at him with a tender glance, and so he converted him; and he converted him in such a way that Peter, as long as he lived, never ceased to weep over the injury done to his Master.
Oh, how much more is gained by gentleness than by bitterness! St. Francis de Sales used to say that there is nothing more bitter than the walnut; but if it is candied, it becomes sweet and pleasant; so corrections, though displeasing in themselves, when made with love and gentleness become agreeable, and thus produce greater fruit. St. Vincent de Paul related of himself that in governing his congregation he had never corrected anyone with harshness except three times, believing he had reason to do so, but he had always repented of it afterwards, because it had always turned out badly; whereas correcting with gentleness had always turned out well.
St. Francis de Sales, with his kindness, obtained from others whatever he wished; and so he succeeded in drawing to God even the most obstinate sinners. St. Vincent de Paul practiced the same thing, and taught his own this maxim: "Affability, love, and humility," he said, "wonderfully win men's hearts and lead them to embrace things most repugnant to nature." Once he entrusted a great sinner to one of his priests so that he might bring him to repentance; but that priest, despite all his efforts, accomplished nothing; so he asked the saint to speak to the man himself. The saint then spoke to him and converted him. That sinner said afterwards that the singular gentleness and charity of Father Vincent had won his heart. Hence the saint could not bear his missionaries treating penitents with harshness, and he told them that the infernal spirit makes use of the rigor of some to further ruin souls.
Kindness must be practiced with everyone, on every occasion, and at all times. St. Bernard observes that some are meek as long as things go according to their liking, but the moment they are touched by some adversity or contradiction, they immediately flare up and begin to smoke like Mount Vesuvius. Such people may be called burning coals hidden under ashes. Whoever wishes to become a saint must be in this life like a lily among thorns, which, no matter how much it is pricked, does not cease to be a lily — that is, always equally sweet and kind. The soul that loves God always preserves peace in its heart and shows it also on its face, appearing always the same in events both prosperous and adverse, as Cardinal Petrucci sang:
It watches the creatures change outside in varied forms, and within its deepest center always united to its God it lives unchanged.
In adverse circumstances, the spirit of a person is known. St. Francis de Sales loved the Order of the Visitation with tenderness, for it had cost him so many labors. Several times he saw it in danger of being lost because of the persecutions it suffered, but the saint never lost his peace, always content to see it even destroyed if such was God's pleasure; and it was then that he said: "For some time now, the many oppositions and contradictions that have come upon me bring me a peace so sweet that it has no equal, and they foretell to me the near establishment of my soul in God, which is my only desire."
When we must respond to someone who mistreats us, let us be careful always to respond with gentleness: Responsio mollis frangit iram (Prov. XV, 1): a gentle answer is enough to extinguish every fire of anger. And when we feel disturbed, it is better to keep silent, for at that moment it seems right to say whatever comes to our lips; but once the passion has subsided, we will see that all the words we spoke were faults.
And when it happens that we ourselves commit some fault, we must use gentleness even with ourselves: to grow angry with ourselves after a fault is not humility, but refined pride, as if we were not the weak and wretched creatures that we are. St. Teresa said: "Humility that disturbs never comes from God, but from the devil." To grow angry with ourselves after a fault is a greater fault than the one committed, and it will bring in its train many other faults: it will make us abandon our devotions, our prayer, our Communion; and if we do perform them, they will be poorly done. St. Aloysius Gonzaga used to say that in troubled waters one can no longer see, and there the devil fishes. When the soul is disturbed, it knows little of God and of what it ought to do. Therefore, when we fall into some fault, we must turn to God with humility and confidence, and, begging his pardon, say to him as St. Catherine of Genoa used to say: "Lord, these are the weeds from my garden." I love you with all my heart, and I repent of having caused you this displeasure. I will do it no more; give me your help.
Affections and Prayers
O blessed chains that bind souls to God, bind me also, and bind me so tightly that I can never break free from the love of my God! My Jesus, I love you; I love you, O treasure, O life of my soul; I cling to you and give you my whole self. No, my beloved Lord, I do not wish to cease loving you ever again. You, who to pay for my sins endured being bound as a criminal, and thus bound were led through the streets of Jerusalem to your death; you who chose to be nailed to the cross, and did not leave it until you had left your life upon it — ah, by the merit of so many sufferings, do not allow me ever to be separated from you!
I repent above every evil for having once turned my back on you, and I resolve, with your grace, to die rather than displease you again, whether gravely or lightly.
O my Jesus, I abandon myself in you. I love you with all my heart; I love you more than myself. I offended you in the past, but now I repent and could wish to die of sorrow. Draw me entirely to yourself. I renounce all sensible consolations; I want you alone and nothing more. Grant that I may love you, and then do with me as you please.
O Mary, my hope, bind me to Jesus; and grant that I may always live bound to him, and die bound to him, so that I may one day come to the blessed kingdom, where I shall no longer fear being loosed from his holy love.
Chapter 6 of 18