The Spirit of St. Francis de Sales Part 18

THAT HE WHO COMPLAINS SINS.

One of Blessed Francis' most frequent sayings was: He who complains, seldom does so without sinning. Now, you are anxious to know what exactly he meant by this, and if it is not allowable to complain to superiors of wrongs which have been done us, and when we are ill, to seek relief from suffering, by describing our pains to the physician, so that he may apply to them the proper remedies.

To put this interpretation on the words of Blessed Francis is to overstrain their meaning. The letter killeth, and needs to be interpreted by the spirit that quickeneth, that is, to be taken gently and sweetly.

Our Blessed Father condemns complaining when it borders upon murmuring. He used to say that those who thus complained sinned, because our self-love always magnifies unduly any wrongs done to ourselves, weighing them in the most deceitful of balances, and applying the most extravagant epithets to things which if done by us to others we should pa.s.s over as not worth a thought.

He did not consider it at all wrong to claim from a court of justice, quietly, calmly, and dispa.s.sionately, reparation of injuries done to our property, person, or honour. He has, indeed, devoted a whole chapter in his Philothea[1] to demonstrating that we may, without failing in humility or charity, do what is necessary for the preservation of our good name. But human weakness is such that it is difficult even in a court of justice to keep our temper and retain a proper equanimity: hence the proverb that, in a hundred-weight of law, there is not so much as an ounce of good nature.

It was also his wish that when sick we should state what ails us quite simply and straightforwardly to those who can relieve us, always remembering that G.o.d commands us to honour the physician.[2] To Philothea he says: "When you are ill offer your sufferings, pains, and weakness to the service of our Lord, and entreat Him to unite them to the torments which He endured for you. Obey the physician; take medicine, food, and other remedies for the love of G.o.d; remembering the gall which He accepted for love of you. Desire to recover your health that you may serve Him, but, if He so will, do not refuse to linger long upon your bed of pain, so as to obey Him; in fine, be ready to die if that is His pleasure, that you may praise and enjoy Him."[3]

It was his opinion that when we complain, however justly, a certain amount of self-love is always at the bottom of the complaint, and that a habit of grumbling is a positive proof of our being too tender of ourselves and too cowardly.

After all, of what use are complaints? They do but beat the air and serve to prove that if we suffer wrong it is with regret, with sadness, and not without some desire of revenging ourselves. An ungreased wheel makes the most noise in turning, and in like manner, he who has the least patience is the first to grumble.

We must remember, however, that all men deceive themselves. Those who complain do not mean to be considered impatient. On the contrary, they tell you that if it were not this particular thing, they would speak and act differently; but that, as it is, if G.o.d did not forbid vengeance they would a.s.suredly take it in the most signal manner. Poor Israelites! really brought out of Egypt, but yet still hankering after the leeks and garlic of that miserable country! Truly such feebleness of mind is pitiable, and most unworthy of a soul avowedly consecrated to the service of the Cross of Jesus Christ.

It is not that we are absolutely forbidden to complain under great sufferings of body or mind, or under great losses. Job, the mirror of the patient, uttered many complaints, yet without prejudice to that virtue which made him so highly esteemed by G.o.d, and renders him famous in all ages. It would not only be unwise, but possibly a sin, so to conceal bodily suffering--under the pretext of being resolved not to complain--as to refuse to have recourse to either physician or remedies, and thereby to risk bringing ourselves down to the gates of the grave.

Even G.o.d, the All-Perfect, does not refrain from pouring forth His complaints against sinners, as we know from many parts of Holy Scripture.

We must then in this matter preserve a just medium, and although it behoves us sometimes to suffer in silence, yet at other times we must make known our sufferings, since _that suffering is truly the most wretched which, amid torments, has no voice_.[4]

The Son of G.o.d, the pattern of all perfection, wept and cried aloud at the grave of Lazarus and on the Cross, showing that He pities our sufferings and shares our griefs. The measure of our complainings must be fixed by discretion, which St. Anthony calls the regent and ruler of the kingdom of virtues, appointed to guard it from the encroachments of sin, ever striving to gain dominion there.

Our Blessed Father gives us the following lesson on the subject: "We must,"

he says, "abstain from a but little noticed, yet most hurtful imperfection, against which few people guard themselves. This is, that when we are compelled to blame our neighbour or to complain of his conduct, which should be as seldom as possible, we never seem to get done with the matter, but go on perpetually repeating our complaints and lamentations; a sure sign of irritation and peevishness and of a heart as yet dest.i.tute of true charity. Great and powerful minds only make mourning about great matters, and even these they dismiss as quickly as possible, never giving way to pa.s.sion or fretfulness."

[Footnote 1: Part iii. chap. vii.]

[Footnote 2: Eccles. x.x.xviii. 1, 12.]

[Footnote 3: Part iii. chap. 3.]

[Footnote 4: Virgil, aeneid I.]

BLESSED FRANCIS' CALMNESS IN TRIBULATION.

The similitude of the nest of the halcyon or kingfisher, supposed to float on the sea, which our Saint describes so well and applies so exquisitely in one of his letters, was the true picture of his own heart. The great stoic, Seneca, says that it is easy to guide a vessel on a smooth sea and aided by favourable winds, but that it is in the midst of tempests and hurricanes that the skill of the pilot is shown.[1]

So it is with the soul, whose fidelity and loyalty towards the Divine Lover is well tested by sufferings and sorrows.

The more he was crossed, the more he was upset, and, like the palm tree, the more violently the winds beat against him, the deeper and stronger roots he threw out. His own words express this truth so perfectly as to leave no doubt on the subject. He says: "For some time past the many secret contradictions and oppositions which have invaded my tranquil life have brought with them so calm and sweet a peace that nothing can be compared to it. Indeed, I cannot help thinking that they foretell the near approach of that entire union of my soul with G.o.d, which is not only the greatest but the sole ambition and pa.s.sion of my heart."

Oh! blessed servant of Jesus Christ, how absolutely you practised that teaching which you impress so strongly on us in your Theotimus, in the words of blessed Brother Giles.

"One to one! one soul to one only love! one heart to one only G.o.d!"

To that only G.o.d, the King eternal, Immortal, invisible, be honour and glory for ever and ever! Amen.

[Footnote 1: _Senec, De Providentia_, cap. iv.]

BLESSED FRANCIS' TEST OF PATIENCE IN SUFFERING.

One day he was visiting a sick person who, in the midst of intense suffering, not only showed great patience in all her words and actions, but plainly had the virtue deeply rooted in her heart. "Happy woman," said Blessed Francis, "who has found the honey-comb in the jaws of the lion!"

Wishing, however, to make more certain that the patience she showed was solid and real, rooted and grounded in Christian charity, and such as to make her endure her sufferings for the love and for the glory of G.o.d alone, he determined to try her. He began to praise her constancy, to enlarge upon her sufferings, to express admiration at her courage, her silence, her good example, knowing that in this way he would draw from her lips the true language of her heart.

Nor was he deceived, for she, sincere and absolutely patient Christian that she was, answered him: "Ah! Father, you do not see the rebellious struggles of all my senses and feelings. In the lower region of my soul everything is in confusion and disorder, and if the grace and fear of G.o.d were not to us as a tower of strength I should long ago have altogether given way and rebelled against G.o.d. Picture me to yourself as like the Prophet whom the Angel carried by one hair of his head; my patience, as it were, hangs on a single thread, and were it not for the mighty help G.o.d is to me I should long ere now have been in h.e.l.l.

"It is not then my virtue but the grace of G.o.d in me which makes me show so much courage. My own part in the matter is but pretence and hypocrisy.

Were I to follow my own impulses I should moan, struggle, break out into pa.s.sionate and bitter words, but G.o.d restrains my lips with bit and bridle, so that I dare not murmur under the blows dealt by His hand which I have learnt through His grace to love and honour."

Our Blessed Father, on leaving her sick-room, said to those who were with him, "She has, indeed, true and Christian patience. Instead of pitying her for her sufferings we ought rather to rejoice over them, for this high virtue is only made perfect in infirmity. But do you notice how G.o.d hides from her own eyes the perfection which He is giving her? Her patience is not only courageous, but loving and humble; like pure balm, which, when unadulterated, sinks to the bottom of the water into which it is cast. Be careful, however, not to repeat to her what I have just said to you lest, by doing so, you should excite in her movements of vanity, and spoil the whole work of grace, whose waters only flow through the valley of humility.

"Let her peacefully possess her soul in patience, for she is at peace even in this extremity of bitterness."

UPON LONG ILLNESSES.

Violent sicknesses either pa.s.s quickly or they carry us to the grave; slow maladies drag wearily on and exercise the patience of the sufferers, nor less that of those who tend them.

Our Blessed Father says on the subject: "Long sicknesses are good schools of mercy for those who wait upon the sick and of loving patience for those who suffer.

"They who wait upon the sick are at the foot of the Cross with our Lady and St. John, whose compa.s.sion they imitate; the sick man himself is on the Cross with our Saviour, Whose Pa.s.sion he imitates.

"But how can we imitate either this compa.s.sion or this Pa.s.sion if we do not suffer from the motive of the love of G.o.d? For the Blessed Virgin and St. John, the beloved Disciple, were moved by a compa.s.sion as much more sorrowful than ours, as their love for the Crucified, their own dearest Lord, was greater than ours can be. It was at the foot of the Cross that the sword of grief pierced Mary's soul, and it was there that the beloved disciple drank that chalice of bitterness, which, after permitting him to share the glories of Thabor, the Saviour predicted should be his."

The whole life of a true Christian is one long period of suffering. Those who endure not with Jesus Christ, are not fit to reign with Him. "O soul in grace," says our Blessed Father, "thou art not yet the spouse of Jesus glorified, but of Jesus crucified. This is why the rings, necklaces, and other ornaments which He gives you, and with which He is pleased to adorn you, are crosses, nails, and thorns; and the marriage feast He sets before you gall, hyssop, and vinegar. It is in Heaven we shall possess the rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, the wine, the manna, and the honey." The world is a vast quarry in which are hewn out and shaped those living stones which are to build up the heavenly Jerusalem, as the Church sings:

_Tunsionibus, pressuris, Expoliti lapides Suis cooptantur locis, Per ma.n.u.s Artificis: Disponuntur permansuri Sacris aedificiis._[1]

Thou too, O Church, which here we see, No easy task hath builded thee.

Long did the chisels ring around!

Long did the mallet's blows rebound!

Long worked the head, and toiled the hand!

Ere stood thy stones as now they stand.

[Footnote 1: Office of the Dedication of a Church.]

BLESSED FRANCIS' HOLY INDIFFERENCE IN ILLNESS.

As regards our Blessed Father's patience in time of sickness, I myself was with him in one only of his illnesses, but others, who saw him in many and were frequent witnesses of his patience, gentleness, and absolute indifference to suffering, tell us marvels on that subject.

For my part, on the one occasion when I saw him stretched upon his bed, suffering with so much endurance and sweetness, the sight at once recalled to me what St. Catherine of Genoa tells us of a certain soul in Purgatory.

This poor soul she represented as so perfectly united to G.o.d by charity that it was physically unable to utter the slightest complaint, or to have the faintest shadow of a desire, which was not absolutely in conformity with the divine will. Such souls, she says, wish to be in Purgatory exactly as long as G.o.d shall please, and this, with a will so contented and so constant, that for nothing in the whole world would they be elsewhere unless it were His will. This is exactly how our Blessed Father suffered, without in any way losing heart, because of the services which he might have been able to render to G.o.d and his neighbour had he been in health. He wished to suffer because to do so was the good pleasure of G.o.d, Who held the keys of his life and of his death, of his health and of his sickness, and of his whole destiny.

If he was asked whether he would take this or that, physic or food, whether he would be bled or blistered, or the like, he had but one answer to give: "Do with the patient what you please, G.o.d has put me at the disposal of the doctors." Nothing could be more simple or obedient than his behaviour, for he honoured G.o.d in the physicians, and in their remedies, as He Himself has commanded us all to do.

He always told the doctors and attendants exactly what was the matter with him, neither exaggerating his malady by undue complaints, nor making his suffering appear less than it really was by a forced and unnatural composure. The first he said was cowardice, the second dissimulation.