The Spiritual Confrerences of SFS

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Conference 4 : On Cordiality & Humililty

Conference 4A: On Cordiality

In order to satisfy your demand, and to make it clearly understood in what consists that cordial love which the sisters ought to bear one another, you must know that cordiality is nothing else than the essence of true and sincere friendship, which can only exist between reasonable beings, who foment and nourish their friendships by the dictates of reason, for otherwise it cannot be friendship, but only love. Thus the brute beasts have love, but it is impossible for them to have friendship, because they are irrational. They have love among themselves on account of some natural affinity; they even have love for man, as experience shows us every day. Various authors have written admirable things on this subject:[1] among others we are told of a certain dolphin, which was so passionately attached to a young child whom it had seen several times on the seashore, that when the child died the dolphin itself died of grief. But that must not be called friendship, since it is absolutely necessary for friendship that reciprocity should exist between the two who love one another, and that this friendship should be contracted through the action of reason. Thus the greater number of friendships which men form, not having a good object in view, and not being guided by reason, do not deserve the name of friendship[2].

Moreover, besides this action of reason there must also be a certain affinity, either in vocation, or aim, or state, between those who contract friendship, as experience teaches us very plainly. Is there any stronger or more real friendship than that which exists between brothers? We do not call the love which fathers bear to their children, or that which children have for their fathers, friendship, because there is not that correspondence of which we speak. The two kinds of affection are different: the love of a father being a grave love, full of authority, and that of children for their fathers a love of respect and submission. Between brothers, on account of their similarity of condition, the reciprocity of their love makes a firm, strong, solid friendship. This is why the early Christians all called one another brethren; and when this first fervour of the primi­tive Church grew cold, the Religious Orders were instituted, and it was enjoined that Religious should call one another brothers and sisters, as a mark of the sincere and cordial friendship which they entertain, or ought to entertain, for each other, and because there is no friendship to be compared to that of brothers. All other friendships are either unequal or do not spring naturally, like those of married persons, in whose case they are made by contracts written and pronounced by notaries, or by verbal promises. Hence those friendships which people of the world contract with each other, either for some private interest or for some frivolous reason, are very liable to perish and be dissolved, but that which exists between brothers is quite different, for it is not made up, and hence is much to be praised. This being so, you can understand why Religious call one another brothers, showing that theirs is a love truly deserving the name of friendship, and that it is not ordinary but cordial friendship, that is, one which is rooted deep down in the heart.

We must then remember that love has its seat in the heart, and that we can never love our neighbour too much, nor exceed the limits of reason in this affection, provided that it dwells in the heart; but as regards the manifestations of this love, we can very easily go wrong by excess, passing beyond the rules of reason. The glorious St. Bernard says that " the measure of loving God is to love Him without measure," and that in our love there ought to be no limits, but that we should its branches to spread out as far as they possibly can. That which is said of love to God may also be understood to apply to our neighbour, provided, however, that the love of God always keeps the upper hand and holds the first rank. Then, in the next place, we should love our sisters with all the compass of our heart, and not be content with loving them as ourselves, which the Commandments of God oblige us to do, but love them more than ourselves, in order to observe the rules of evangelical perfection which requires that of us. Our Lord Himself says: Love, one another as I have loved you [Jn. 13:34; 15:12]. This love as I have loved you, ought to be well considered, for it means: more than yourselves. And just as Our Lord has always preferred us to Himself, and does so still as often as we receive Him in the Blessed Sacrament, making Himself therein our food, so in like manner He wishes us to have such a love for one another that we shall always prefer our neighbour to ourselves. And just as He has done all that He could do for us except condemning Himself to hell (which indeed He could not and ought not to do, for He could not sin and it is sin alone which leads to damnation), so He wishes, and the rule of perfection requires, that we should do all that we can do for one another except losing our soul. With that sole exception, our friendship ought to be so firm, cordial, and solid that we should never refuse to do or to suffer anything for our neighbour and our sisters.

Now this cordial love ought to be accompanied by two virtues, one of which may be called affability, and the other cheerfulness. Affability is a virtue which spreads a certain agreeableness overall the business and serious communications which we hold with one another; cheerfulness is that which renders us gracious and agreeable in our recreations and less serious intercourse with one another. All the virtues have, as you know, two contrary vices, which are the extremes of the virtue. The virtue of affability, then, lies between two vices[3]: that of too great gravity and seriousness on the one hand, and on the other of too many demonstrations of affection, and using expressions which incline to flattery. Now the virtue of affability holds the golden mean between these two extremes, making use of affectionate terms according to the necessity of those with whom it has to deal, preserving at the same time a, gentle gravity according to the requirements of the persons and affairs of which it treats. I say that we must show signs of affection at certain times, for it would not be suitable to carry into a sick room as much gravity of demeanour as we should display elsewhere, not showing more kindness to an invalid than if she were in full health. But we must not make such demonstra­tions too frequently, or be ready on every occasion to speak honeyed words, throwing whole handfuls of them over the first person we meet. Just as if we put too much sugar on our food it would disgust us, becoming insipid by being too sweet, so, in the same way, too frequent signs of affection would become repulsive, or at any rate we should cease to value them, knowing that they were given almost mechanically. The food on which salt is scattered in quantities would be disagreeable on account of its tartness, but that into which either salt or sugar is put in proper proportions becomes agreeable to the taste; so also caresses bestowed with measure and discretion are rendered profitable and agreeable to those who receive them.

The virtue of cheerfulness requires that we should contribute to holy and temperate joy and to pleasant conversation, which may serve as a consolation and recreation to our neighbour, so as not to weary and annoy him with our knit brows and melancholy faces, or by refusing to recreate ourselves at the time destined to recreation.[4] We have already treated of this virtue in the Conference on Religious Modesty. I will therefore pass on, only saying that it is a very difficult thing always to hit the centre of our target. It is perfectly true that, we ought all to intend to pierce the central white of that perfect virtue which we desire so ardently, but still we must not lose courage if we do not attain its very essence, provided that we hit the target at all, and as close to the centre as we can; for the very saints themselves could not perfectly attain all the virtues, none but Our Lord and Our Lady could. The saints practised them very differently.[5] What a dissimilarity there is between the spirit of St. Augustine and that of St. Jerome! It may be remarked in their writings. Nothing can be more gentle than St. Augustine; his writings are sweetness itself. St. Jerome, on the contrary, was very austere; to be convinced of this, look at him in his epistles, he is almost always angry. Yet both were extremely virtuous, only one had more gentleness, the other a greater austerity of life, and both (although not equally gentle or equally stern) were great saints[6]. Thus we see that we must not be disappointed if we are not all equally gentle and sweet, provided that we love our neighbour with the love of our heart, and to its fullest extent, and as our Lord loved us, that is to say, more than ourselves; always preferring him to ourselves in all things relating to holy charity, and never refusing him anything which we can contribute for his advantage, excepting to lose our own souls, as we have already said. We must, however, try to make the outward manifestations of our affection comformable, as far as we can, to the dictates of reason; we must rejoice with them that rejoice, and weep with them that weep [Rom. 12:15].

I have said that we must show that we love our sisters (and this is in answer to the second part of the question), without making use of any foolish familiarity: the Rule tells us this[7], but let us see exactly what it means. Nothing less than that holiness must appear in our familiarity and in all our manifestations of friendship, as St. Paul tells us in one of his Epistles: Salute one another with a holy kiss [Rom. 12:15]. It was the custom among the early Christians to kiss one another when they met. Our Lord also used this form of salutation towards His Apostles, as we learn from the betrayal of Judas [Mt. 26:48, 49]. The holy Religious of olden times, when they met, said: Deo gratias, as proof of their great satisfaction in seeing one another, as if they would say: “I thank God, my dear brother, for the consolation which He has given me in seeing you.” Thus must you too, my dear daughters, give signs of your love for each other and of your satisfaction in meeting, provided that these signs of affection be always accompanied by holiness, and that so God may not, only not be offended, but, on the contrary, may be glorified and praised by them. The same St. Paul who teaches us to express our affection in a holy manner, wishes us also to do it graciously, and teaches us this by his own example: Salute, ho says, "such a one who knows that I love him with all my heart and such a one who ought to be sure that I love him as my brother, and his mother, who knows well she is also mine” [Rom. 12:5-13].

You ask me if you may venture to show more affection to one sister whom you consider especially virtuous than to another. To this I reply that although we are bound to love most those who are the most virtuous with the love of complacency, yet we ought not to love them more with the love of benevolence, neither ought we to show them more tokens of friendship; and this for two reasons. First, because Our Lord did not do so; indeed, Ho seems to have shown more affection for the imperfect than for the perfect, since He tells us that Ho had not come for the just, but for sinners [Mt. 9:13]. It is to those who have the most need of us that we ought to show our love more especially, for in such cases we give a better proof that we love through charity than in loving those who give us more consolation, than trouble. In doing this we must act as the needs of our neighbour may require. But, excepting in such cases, we must try to love all equally since Our Lord does not say: "Love those who are the most virtuous," but simply: Love one another as I have loved you, without excluding any one, however imperfect.

The second reason for which we should not give tokens of friendship more to some than to others, or allow ourselves to love them more, is that we cannot possibly judge who are the most perfect and most virtuous, for external appearances are deceitful, and very often those who seem to be the most virtuous (as I have said elsewhere)[8] are not so in the sight of God, who alone can absolutely know them as they are. It may be that a sister whom you often see stumbling and committing many imperfections is more virtuous and more pleasing to God (either because of the great courage which she preserves in the midst of these imperfections, never allowing herself to be troubled or cast down by seeing herself so liable to fall, or because of the humility which she extracts from them, or, again, by the love of her abjection) than another who may have a dozen virtues, natural or acquired, and who will therefore strive and labour less, and perhaps be less humble and courageous than she who is so apt to fail. St. Peter was chosen to be the chief of the Apostles, although he was subject to so many imperfections that he even committed some after he had received the Holy Ghost, because, notwithstanding these defects, he was always full of courage, never allowing himself to be dismayed by them. Therefore, Our Lord made him His Vicar, so that no one may with reason say that he did not deserve to be exalted and distinguished above St. John and the other Apostles.

We must then bestow on our sisters the affection which we owe to them, as equally as we possibly can, for the above-mentioned reasons. And they ought all to know that we love them from our hearts, and therefore there is no need to use so many words about it, saying "that we love them dearly," "that we are disposed to love them specially," and so on. For indeed, if we have an inclination to love one more than another, our love for her will not be more perfect on that account, yea, per­haps more liable to change at the least little thing which she may do in our regard. If, as a fact, we are inclined to love one more than another, we ought not to waste our time in thinking about it, still less in telling her of it; for we should not love by incli­nation, but love our neighbour either because he is virtuous, or because we hope that he will become so, but chiefly because it is the will of God.

Now, in order to show that we love him we must, do him all the good that we possibly can, as well for soul as for body, praying for him and serving him cordially when the occasion offers. The friendship which ends in fine words is not of great worth, neither is it loving as Our Saviour loved us; for He was not content with assuring us that He loved us, He went far beyond, doing all that He has done as a proof of His love. St. Paul, speaking to his beloved children, says: " I am ready to give in y life for you, and to spend myself for you absolutely and unreservedly to show how dearly and tenderly I love you; yea," he says, "I am prepared to suffer for you or through you whatever you like" [2 Cor. 12:14,15,19]. By this he teaches us that to labour or even to give our life for our neighbour, is not so great a thing as to be ready to let ourselves be employed at the pleasure of others, either by them or for them. This was what he had learnt from our sweet Saviour on the Cross [Phil. 2:8]. It is to this supreme height of the love of our neighbour that Religious, and we who are consecrated to the service of God, are called: for it is not enough to assist our neighbour with our temporal goods; it is not even enough, says St. Bernard,[9] to make our own selves suffer for this love; we must go further, allowing ourselves to be used for him by holy obedience, and by him just as he pleases, without ever resisting. For to govern ourselves and to act by our own will or our own choice, always gives much satisfaction to our self-love; but to allow ourselves to be employed in things which others will and we do not — that is, which we do not choose — in this lies the highest point of abnegation; for instance, when we would like to preach, and we are sent to wait on the sick; or when we wish to pray for our neighbour, and are sent to serve him. Always better, and incomparably better, is whatever others make us do (I mean, of course, in that which is not contrary to God, and does not offend Him) than what we do or choose of ourselves.

Let us then love one another heartily, and in order to do so let us make use of the motive so potent to stimulate us to such holy love, namely, that Our Lord upon the cross shed the last drops of His Blood upon the earth, as it were to make thereby a sacred mortar with which He would cement, conjoin, and attach to one another the faithful, who are the stones of His Church, in order that this union might be so strong that there should never be any division therein; so much did He fear that from division might follow eternal damnation.

Bearing with the imperfections of our neighbour is one of the chief characteristics of this love. Our Lord showed us this upon the cross. His heart was full of tenderness and love for us; for us, I say, and even for those who caused His death, and who thereby committed the most monstrous sin that man could ever commit. Yes, most monstrous in its iniquity was the sin of the Jews; yet our sweet Saviour had thoughts of love even for them, giving us an example beyond all that we could ever have imagined, since He made excuses for those who mocked and crucified Him in their barbarous fury, seeking for motives whereby to obtain for them His Father's forgiveness [Lk. 23:34] at the very moment of their sin and outrage. Oh, how miserable are we poor children of earth! For we can scarcely forget an injury, even long after we have received it! But he who shall prevent his neighbour with the blessings of sweetness[Ps. 20:4], will be the most perfect imitator of Our Lord.

We must, moreover, remark that cordial love is attached to another virtue, which is as it were a consequence of that love, namely a childlike confidence. When children have, say a fine feather, or something else which they think pretty, they cannot rest until they have found their little companions to show them the said feather, and make them share in their joy; and just in the same way they want them to share their grief, for if they have but a finger-ache they go telling every one they meet about it, to get pity and have the poor finger breathed upon. Now I do not say that you must be exactly like these children, but I do say that this confidence ought to make you willingly communicate to your sisters all your little satisfactions and consolations, with no fear lest they should remark your imperfection. I do not say that if some extraordinary gift is bestowed upon you by God you must tell every one about it — no; but as regards your smaller consolations and joys, I wish you not to be so reserved about hem, and, when the occasion presents itself, to speak of them frankly and simply to one another, not in a spirit of boasting and self-satisfaction, but of childlike confidence. So too as regards your faults, I should wish you not to take so much pains to hide them, for they are non the better for not being outwardly visible. The sisters will not think you have none because they are concealed, and your imperfections will perhaps be more dangerous than if they were detected, and caused you the confusion which they do to those who are more ready to let them appear on the surface. You must not, then, be astonished or discouraged when you commit some fault or imperfection before your sisters, but, on the contrary, you must be very glad to be seen as you really are. You may have been guilty of some fault or silliness, it is true; but it was before your sisters, who love you dearly, who can very well bear with you in your faults, and who will feel more compassion for you than indignation against you. Such confi­dence would greatly strengthen the cheerfulness and calmness of our minds, which are liable to be troubled when we are found out to be faulty in something, however small it may be, as if it were any great wonder that we should be seen to be imperfect!

In conclusion, remember always that if we should sometimes, through inadvertence, fail in gentleness and sweetness of behaviour, we must not distress ourselves, or think that we are absolutely devoid of cordiality, for this is not so. An act committed now and then, and not frequently, does not make a man vicious, especially when he has a hearty purpose and will to amend.

Omitted from, the Conference on Cordiality[10]

Do you ask me, my daughter, if you may laugh in the choir or in the refectory when others are laughing at some unexpected occurrence? I reply that in the choir we must not in any way contribute to the amusement of others; it is not the proper place, and such a fault ought to be seriously corrected. As regards the refectory, if I were to see every one else laughing I should laugh with them, but if I saw a dozen who were not doing so, I would not laugh, and not trouble myself in the least if I were called too serious.

When I said that our love for our sisters ought to be so impartial, that we should love one as much as another, I meant, as far as we can do so; for it is not in our power to have as tender and sweet affection for those whose tempers and dispositions are not in accordance with our own, as for others with whom we are in sympathy. But that is nothing; it remains that the love of charity must be universal, and the signs and manifestations of our friendship must be impartial, if we wish to be true servants of God.

We do not exactly know how to distinguish between what are idle words and what are not; very few idle words are spoken in these houses of observance[11]. Do you want to know what would be idle words? Well, if, when serious and holy things were being talked about, a sister were to begin telling a dream, or some little amusing tale, then her talking, not being in order, would be idle. Or again, If in relating a thing which could be told in a dozen words, I use twenty, quite unnecessarily and out of mere lightness of heart, it is idle speaking, Unless indeed this multiplication is due to the ignorance of the speaker, who does not know how to explain herself better, in which case there is no sin.

As regards recreation, however, you must not imagine that the little insignificant things which are said are idle words, since they have a very holy and useful end. The sisters must have proper recreation, and it is specially important that it should be made cheerful for the novices. Our minds must not be kept always on the stretch; there would be danger of our becoming melancholy. I should not like you to give way to scruples when you have spent the whole of recreation on some occasion in talking about unimportant things; another time you will speak of good ones.

Cheerful and at the same time holy conversation is that in which no evil is spoken, which does not attack our neighbour's imperfections (for this fault must never be committed), in which one does not speak in any unbecoming way, in which one does not take pleasure in speaking much about the world and its vanities. If two or three words of this sort are spoken in passing, and we then check ourselves, there is no need to trouble ourselves about the matter at all. Neither is there any harm whatever in laughing a little at something that a sister may have said. To utter some light, merry word, which may perhaps mortify her a little, provided it does not make her sad, and provided also that I said it not to hurt, but simply for recreation, is not matter for confession. When we aim at perfection, we must aim at the centre, but yet we must not be troubled if we do not always hit it. We must go on our way simply and straightforwardly, properly taking our recreation for God's sake, so as to praise Him and serve Him better. If we have not the actual intention, the general one will suffice.

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[1] Vide Pliny, Natural History, Book IX, Chapter 8.

[2] The name of friendship. For example, in Carnival time, you will find a number of young madcaps who will assemble together and swear an eternal friendship. They will call one another brothers, and neglect nothing to make it believed that they love each other dearly. This, however, is not at all the case, seeing that the foundation of their friendship is nothing but the plan they have formed of doing many things contrary to reason, without which there can be no true friendship.

[3] Extremes of the virtue — as for example, liberality has on tin-one side prodigality, on the other avarice and parsimony. A man who gives more than he ought, falls into the vice of prodigality, and on the contrary, when he does not give according to his means, he becomes avaricious and stingy. (Variant)

[4] Destined to recreation – behaving like those who mete out all their words, pondering upon each before uttering it, to see if their sentence are well arranged and require no alternation, so much afraid are they that their speech and actions may be exposed to censure. Such people are constantly examining themselves, not that they may know if they have offended God, but to find out if they have given occasion to any one to hold them in less esteem. Truly, such people make themselves very disagreeable to those with whom they converse, and fail greatly in the practice of the virtue of cheerfulness, which requires us to converse frankly and pleasantly with out neighbour, contributing all in our power to his profit or consolation. (Addition).

[5] What a difference — is there between the spirit of St. Jerome and that of our Blessed Father St. Augustine, whose writings are gentleness and sweetness itself. St. Jerome, on the contrary, had a severity quite out of the common, and seems to repel one. See him with his long beard, holding the stone with which he strikes his breast. (Variant.)

[6] Great saints — St. Paul and St. John were very great saints, but not equally gentle and sweet, for the difference in their spirit is shown in their Epistles. St. John displays nothing but thin gentleness and sweetness; he always calls those to whom he writes my little children, on account of the tenderness which he felt for them. St. Paul loved them with a love which doubtless was not so tender, but which was nevertheless very solid. (Addition).

[7] Chapter 22; cf. Constitutions 23, on Religious Modesty.

[8] Conference on Self-Renouncement.

[9] De Consid., Book IV, Chapter 2.

[10] This addition, title included, is an extract from a compilation, prepared by the order and under the supervision of St. Jane Frances de Chantal, and printed in Paris under the title of Little Customs of the Convent of the Visitation of Holy Mary of Annecy 1642. From the same collection are taken the additions to Conferences xv. and xvi. The testimony of St. Jane gives them an authority equal to that of the text to which they are attached. (See, in vol. v. of her Letters, a circular dated July 4, 1638.)

[11] Observance—for if all that is said is not strictly necessary, it is usually either a simple communication of ideas by way of fostering social intercourse, or the words are said for recreation, and that general conversation to which each one rightly contributes. What would be idle at another time is not so in recreation, because the object makes it useful. (Addition.)


Conference 4B: On the Spirit of Humility

What it is to do all things in a spirit of Humility as the Constitutions prescribe.

In order to understand this, you must know that as there is a difference between pride itself, the habit of pride, and the spirit of pride. (For if you commit one act of pride, that is pride; if you commit such acts continually, on every occasion, that is the habit of pride; if you take pleasure in these acts, and seek for the occasions of committing them, that is the spirit of pride); so in the same way there is a difference between humility, the habit of humility, and the spirit of humility. It is humility to perform some act in order to humiliate ourselves; the habit of it is the performance of such acts frequently, and whenever the occasions present themselves; but the spirit of humility is taking pleasure in humiliation, is seeking in all things for abjection and contempt. It is, in fact, making it our chief aim to humble and abase ourselves in all that we do, say, or desire, and taking a real delight in meeting with opportunities of self-humiliation, loving the very thought of it. That is what is meant by doing all things in a spirit of humility, or, in other words, the seeking humility and abjection in all things.

It is a good practice of humility[1] not to study the actions of others save to find out their virtues, for as to their imperfections, as long as we are not in charge of them we must never turn either our eyes or our consideration in that direction. Whatever we may see our neighbour do, we must always interpret his conduct in the best manner possible. In doubtful matters, we must persuade ourselves that what we noticed was not wrong, but that it was our own imperfection which made us think it was in order to avoid rash judgments of the actions of others, which is a most dangerous evil, and one which we ought to have in the highest aversion. As regards things which are undoubtedly wrong, we must be full of compassion, and humble ourselves for our neighbours' faults as for our own[2], praying to God for their amendment with the same fervour as we should use if we were subject to the same faults.

"But what can we do," you say, "to acquire such a spirit of humility as you have described?” well, like all the other virtues, it can only be acquired by repeated acts.

Humility makes us annihilate ourselves in all things which are not necessary for our advancement in grace, such, for instance, as a gift of expression, gracefulness of manners, great talent for business matters, a capable mind, eloquence, and so on, for in all these outward matters we ought to desire that others should do better than we do.

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[1] You ask if you are wanting in humility, when you laugh at the faults the sisters acknowledge, or the mistakes made by the reader during meals. No, not at all, my dear daughter, for laughter is a passion which is stirred without our consent, and which it is not in our power to prevent, especially when we are moved to laughter on unforeseen occasions. That is why Our Lord could not laugh, for nothing was unforeseen to Him who knew all things before they happened, but He could smile, when He saw good. Fools laugh on all occasions because things take them by surprise; but wise men are not so prone to laughter, because they make more use of reflection, which enables us to foresee what is likely to happen. This being the case, it is not contrary to humility to laugh, provided that we do not go further, dwelling too much in our own mind or talking with some other person on the subject which moved us to laughter. This we must not do, especially when some imperfection of our neighbour is the cause of our amusement. That would be quite in­consistent with the question which you asked about the way to conceive or to maintain a good opinion of our neighbour, since that can only he done by fidelity in studying his virtues and refusing to dwell upon his imperfections. (Addition.)

[2] The example of St. Joseph is admirable on this subject. He saw that Our Lady was with child, and knew not how; yet he would not for a moment judge her, he left the judgment to God. (Addition.)