Chapter IX

Caritas non inflatur.

He who loves Jesus Christ does not grow vain over his own merits, but humbles himself and rejoices in seeing himself humbled also by others.

The proud man is like a balloon full of air that appears great to himself, but in substance all his greatness amounts to a little air which, when the balloon is opened, vanishes all at once. He who loves God is truly humble and does not become inflated at seeing some merit in himself; because he sees that all he has is a gift of God, and of his own he has nothing but nothingness and sin; and so, in recognizing the favors God has bestowed on him, he humbles himself all the more, seeing himself so unworthy and yet so favored by God.

St. Teresa said, speaking of the special graces God was granting her: "God does with me as one does with a house that is about to collapse — he props it up with supports." When a soul receives some loving visit from God, experiencing within itself an extraordinary ardor of divine love accompanied by tears or a great tenderness of heart, let it guard against thinking that the Lord favors it on account of some good work of its own; rather it should humble itself all the more, thinking that God caresses it so that it will not abandon him; otherwise, if from such gifts it conceives any vanity, esteeming itself more favored because it behaves better with God than others do, such a fault will cause God to withdraw his favors. Two things are most necessary to preserve a house: the foundation and the roof. The foundation in us must be humility, in recognizing that we are worth nothing and can do nothing; the roof, then, is the divine protection, in which alone we must place our trust.

When we see ourselves more favored by God, we must humble ourselves all the more. When St. Teresa received some special grace, she would then endeavor to place before her eyes all the sins she had committed, and so the Lord united her more closely to himself. The more the soul confesses itself unworthy of graces, the more God enriches it with graces. Thais, first a sinner and then a saint, humbled herself so much before God that she thought herself unworthy even to name him; and so she did not dare to say "my God," but would say: "My Creator, have pity on me: Plasmator meus, miserere mei." And St. Jerome writes that because of such humility he saw a great throne prepared for her in heaven. We read similarly of St. Margaret of Cortona that when one day the Lord visited her with greater tenderness of love, she exclaimed: "But how, Lord, have you forgotten what I was? How do you repay with such tender love the many injuries I have done you?" And God replied that when a soul loves him and repents from the heart of having offended him, he forgets all the offenses received; as he had already said through Ezekiel: Si autem impius egerit poenitentiam... omnium iniquitatum eius quas operatus est, non recordabor (Ezech. XVIII, 22). And in proof of this he showed her that he had prepared for her in heaven a great throne in the midst of the seraphim. Oh, if we could come to understand the value of humility! A single act of humility is worth more than all the riches of the world.

St. Teresa said: "Do not believe you have made progress in perfection unless you consider yourself the worst of all, and unless you desire to be placed last." And so the saint did, and so all the saints have done. St. Francis of Assisi, St. Mary Magdalene de' Pazzi, and others considered themselves the greatest sinners in the world and marveled that the earth bore them up and did not open beneath their feet; and they said this with true feeling. As the Venerable John of Avila, who from his youth had led a holy life, lay near death, a priest came to assist him and spoke to him of very sublime things, treating him as the great servant of God and great scholar that he was; but Father Avila said to him: "Father, I beg you to commend my soul as one commends the soul of a criminal condemned to death, for such am I." This is the estimate the saints have of themselves in life and in death.

So must we also do if we wish to save ourselves and remain in God's grace until death, placing all our confidence in God alone. The proud man trusts in his own strength and therefore falls; but the humble man, because he trusts only in God, though he be assailed by the most violent temptations, stands firm and does not fall, always saying: Omnia possum in eo qui me confortat (Phil. IV, 13). The devil now tempts us to presumption, now to distrust: when he tells us there is no fear of falling, then let us tremble all the more, because if for a moment God does not assist us with his grace, we are lost. When, on the other hand, he tempts us to distrust, then let us turn to God and say to him with great confidence: In te Domine speravi, non confundar in aeternum (Ps. XXX, 2): My God, in you I have placed my hopes; I hope never to find myself confounded and deprived of your grace. These acts of distrusting ourselves and trusting in God we must practice until the last moment of our lives, always praying the Lord to give us holy humility.

But to be humble, it is not enough to have a low opinion of ourselves and to consider ourselves the wretches that we are; the truly humble person, says Thomas a Kempis, despises himself and desires to be despised also by others. This is what Jesus Christ so strongly recommended us to practice according to his example: Discite a me, quia mitis sum et humilis corde (Matth. XI, 29). Whoever says he is the greatest sinner in the world and then is indignant with others who look down on him, shows that he is humble in word but not in heart. St. Thomas Aquinas writes that when someone, seeing himself despised, takes offense, even if he worked miracles, we may be certain that he is very far from perfection. The Blessed Virgin sent St. Ignatius of Loyola to instruct St. Mary Magdalene de' Pazzi in humility, and this is the teaching the saint gave her: "Humility is a delight in all that leads us to despise ourselves." Note well: a delight. If the senses are hurt by the contempt we receive, at least in spirit we should rejoice in it.

And how could a soul that loves Jesus Christ, seeing its God endure slaps and spitting in his face, as he suffered in his Passion — tunc expuerunt in faciem eius et colaphis eum ceciderunt, alii autem palmas in faciem eius dederunt (Matth. XXVI, 67) — not love to be despised? To this end the Redeemer willed that his image should be placed on altars, not in a glorious form but as the Crucified, so that we might always have before our eyes his humiliations, at the sight of which the saints rejoice in being scorned on this earth. And this was the request St. John of the Cross made to Jesus Christ when he appeared to him carrying the cross on his shoulder: Domine, pati et contemni pro te: Lord, seeing you so despised for love of me, I ask nothing of you but to let me suffer and be despised for love of you.

St. Francis de Sales says: "Bearing reproaches is the touchstone of humility and of true virtue." If a person who practices the spiritual life, who prays, receives Communion often, fasts, and mortifies himself, yet cannot bear an insult or a stinging word — what sign is this? It is a sign that he is a hollow reed, without humility and without virtue. And what does a soul that loves Jesus Christ know how to do, if it does not know how to suffer some contempt for love of Jesus Christ, who has suffered so many for its sake? Thomas a Kempis writes in his golden book, The Imitation of Christ: "Since you so greatly abhor being humiliated, it is a sign that you are not dead to the world, that you have no humility, and that you do not have God before your eyes. He who does not have God before his eyes is disturbed by every word of blame he hears." You cannot bear slaps and wounds for God; at least bear some word.

Oh, what wonder and scandal it causes when a person who receives Communion often then takes offense at every word of contempt! On the other hand, what beautiful edification a soul gives that, on receiving scorn, responds with a gentle word to appease the one who offended it; or else does not respond at all and does not complain to others, but remains with a serene face, showing no bitterness! St. John Chrysostom says that the meek person is useful not only to himself but also to others by the good example he gives of gentleness in being despised: Mansuetus utilis sibi et aliis.

Thomas a Kempis, on this subject, notes many things in which we should humble ourselves. He says: "What others say will be heard; what you say will be counted as nothing. Others will ask and receive; you will ask and be refused. Others will be great in the mouths of men; about you there will be silence. Others will be entrusted with this or that charge, but you will be judged good for nothing. At this, nature will sometimes grieve; but you will make great gain if you bear it all in silence."

St. Jane Frances de Chantal said: "He who is truly humble, when humiliated, humbles himself all the more." Yes, because the truly humble person never believes he is humiliated as much as he deserves. Those who act thus are called blessed by Jesus Christ: not those whom the world esteems, honors, and praises for their nobility, learning, or power, but those who are cursed by the world, persecuted, and spoken ill of — because for these, if they bear all with patience, a great reward is prepared in paradise: Beati estis cum maledixerint vobis, et persecuti vos fuerint, et dixerint omne malum adversum vos mentientes, propter me. Gaudete et exsultate, quoniam merces vestra copiosa est in caelis (Matth. V, 11, 12).

We must practice humility especially when we are corrected by superiors or others for some fault. Some people are like hedgehogs: when they are not touched they seem all gentle and meek; but if a superior or friend touches them by pointing out something they did wrong, they immediately become all thorns and respond with resentment that it is not true, or that they had reason to do it, and that such a warning was uncalled for; in short, whoever corrects them becomes their enemy, just like those who take it out on the surgeon because he causes them pain by dressing their wound: Medicanti irascitur, writes St. Bernard. The holy and humble man, says St. John Chrysostom, when corrected grieves over the error committed; the proud man, on the contrary, when corrected also grieves, but he grieves because he sees his fault exposed, and therefore grows disturbed, responds, and is indignant with the one who warned him. Here is the beautiful rule St. Philip Neri gave for when someone is accused: "Whoever truly wishes to become a saint," he said, "should never make excuses, even if what he is accused of is false." An exception should be made only in the case where a defense seems necessary to remove scandal. Oh, how much merit one gains before God who is reproved, even unjustly, and remains silent and does not excuse himself! St. Teresa said: "Sometimes a soul advances and is perfected more by refraining from excusing herself than by hearing ten sermons; for by not excusing herself she begins to acquire freedom of spirit and to care no more whether good or evil is spoken of her."

Affections and Prayers

O Incarnate Word, I beg you, by the merits of your holy humility that made you embrace so many disgraceful insults for love of us, free me from pride and give me a share of your holy humility. How can I ever complain of any affront done to me, especially after having so many times made myself deserving of hell? My Jesus, by the merit of so much contempt you suffered in your Passion, grant me the grace to live and die humbled on this earth, as you lived and died humbled for me. For love of you I would wish to see myself despised and abandoned by all, but without you I can do nothing.

I love you, my supreme good; I love you, O delight of my soul; I love you, and from you I hope, as I resolve, to suffer all things for you: insults, betrayals, persecutions, sorrows, aridity, abandonment — provided only that you do not abandon me, sole love of my soul. Do not permit me to separate from you ever again.

Give me the desire to please you. Give me fervor in loving you. Give me peace in suffering. Give me resignation in all adversity.

Have pity on me. I deserve nothing, but I hope for everything from you, who purchased me with your blood.

And I hope for everything also from you, my Queen and Mother Mary, who are the refuge of sinners.