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By Timothy P. Williams, Senior Director of Formation and Leadership Development 

Faithful to our Rule, we “endeavor to establish relationships based on trust and friendship” with the neighbors we serve. [Rule, Part I, 1.9] It’s easy to remember of the importance of friendship. After all, it is one of our essential elements, shared between Members and extended to the neighbors we serve. But what about trust? If I do not trust my neighbors, can I truly call them friends?

Trust is the foundation of all solid relationships – business relationships, marriages, and friendships – and while our friendships with next door neighbors, co-workers, old Army buddies, or our closest confidantes may differ in their nature, every kind of friendship depends upon trust. Indeed, without trust, we would not consider them to be friendships at all.

There is no such thing as one friend; there are always at least two. To have a friend, you have to be a friend. And just as friendship itself is defined by this mutuality, so, too, is the trust upon which that friendship is built. It is not enough to trust the neighbor if we do not also seek to earn his trust.

It is very easy to find fault in others while excusing it in ourselves, and it is easy to let this natural tendency of thought to seep into our home visits, causing us to think, perhaps unconsciously, “why did they wait so long to call? How could they have made the decisions that have led to this crisis? Why don’t they clean up this clutter, get a second job until the crisis passes, etc., etc., etc.” Yet every one of these amounts to the same question, “Why aren’t they more like me?”

This is not a question that is based on trust.

If we seek to find faults, we will find them. Similarly, if we seek the good, it will just as surely make itself known. As St. Vincent explained, “If we excuse those faults of our [friends], we’ll win their trust”. [CCD IX:223] This is especially so since we cannot trust our own judgment of the faults of others. If one day we offer advice in good faith to a friend, the friend will be open to it if we have proven ourselves trustworthy. They will extend to us the same benefit of the doubt that we first extended to them.

We are called to this vocation by God. He entrusts to us the care of His beloved poor, asking us to see His face in each of them, and always to trust in His Providence. Therefore, if our love for the neighbor, as the Greatest Commandmentreminds us, cannot be separated from our love for God, then neither can our trust in God – and more importantly, God’s trust in us – be separated from our trust in the neighbor.

“Let’s trust in God,” Vincent said, “but let our trust be total and perfect, and let’s rest assured that, having begun His work in us, He will complete it.” [CCD XI:31]

Contemplate

How can I change my doubts and judgments to trust?

Recommended Reading

‘Tis a Gift to Be Simple

Contemplación: Total y Perfecta

Traducción de Sandra Joya

Fieles a nuestra Regla, nos esforzamos por establecer relaciones basadas en la confianza y la amistad con los prójimos a quienes servimos. [Regla, Parte I, 1.9] Es fácil recordar la importancia de la amistad. Después de todo, es uno de nuestros elementos esenciales, compartido entre los Miembros y extendido a los prójimos a quienes servimos. Pero ¿qué hay de la confianza? Si no confío en mis prójimos, ¿puedo llamarlos verdaderamente amigos?

La confianza es el fundamento de toda relación sólida: relaciones comerciales, matrimonios y amistades. Si bien nuestras amistades con los vecinos, compañeros de trabajo, antiguos camaradas del ejército o nuestros confidentes más cercanos pueden diferir en su naturaleza, todo tipo de amistad depende de la confianza. De hecho, sin confianza, no las consideraríamos amistades en absoluto.

No existe un solo amigo; siempre hay al menos dos. Para tener un amigo, hay que ser amigo. Y así como la amistad se define por esta reciprocidad, también lo hace la confianza sobre la cual se construye esa amistad. No basta con confiar en el vecino si no buscamos también ganarnos su confianza.

Es muy fácil encontrar faltas en los demás mientras las excusamos en nosotros mismos, y es fácil dejar que esta tendencia natural de pensamiento se filtre en nuestras visitas domiciliarias, haciéndonos pensar, quizás inconscientemente: «¿Por qué tardaron tanto en llamar? ¿Cómo pudieron tomar las decisiones que han provocado esta crisis? ¿Por qué no ordenan este desorden, buscan un segundo trabajo hasta que pase la crisis, etc., etc., etc.?». Sin embargo, todo esto se reduce a la misma pregunta: «¿Por qué no son más como yo?».

Esta no es una pregunta basada en la confianza.

Si buscamos encontrar faltas, las encontraremos. Del mismo modo, si buscamos lo bueno, sin duda se manifestará. Como explicó San Vicente: «Si excusamos las faltas de nuestros amigos, nos ganaremos su confianza». [CCD IX:223] Esto es especialmente cierto dado que no podemos confiar en nuestro propio juicio sobre las faltas de los demás. Si algún día ofrecemos un consejo de buena fe a un amigo, este estará abierto a él si hemos demostrado ser dignos de confianza. Nos brindará el mismo beneficio de la duda que nosotros le brindamos en un principio.

Dios nos llama a esta vocación. Nos confía el cuidado de sus amados pobres, pidiéndonos que veamos su rostro en cada uno de ellos y que siempre confiemos en su Providencia. Por lo tanto, si nuestro amor al prójimo, como nos recuerda el Gran Mandamiento, no puede separarse de nuestro amor a Dios, entonces tampoco nuestra confianza en Dios —y, más importante aún, la confianza de Dios en nosotros— puede separarse de nuestra confianza en el prójimo.

«Confiemos en Dios», dijo Vicente, «pero que nuestra confianza sea total y perfecta, y tengamos la certeza de que, habiendo comenzado su obra en nosotros, la completará». [CCD XI:31]

Contemplar

¿Cómo puedo transformar mis dudas y prejuicios en confianza?

Leer en Español

By Timothy P. Williams, Senior Director of Formation and Leadership Development 

Last week, my very good friend James Davis died, finally at rest following years of illness and other trials. Through them all, his great good cheer continued to bless all who were privileged to know him, many of whom had no idea the suffering he was enduring. James was a faithful Catholic, a dedicated Vincentian, Spiritual Advisor for his own Conference and for the South Central Region, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a friend to many, and a very good man.

James leaves a rich legacy that we in the Society can continue to treasure. He was the primary author of Serving in Hope Module VII, which focuses on our beloved home visit. He also co-authored our home visit journal, The Spirituality of the Home Visit. I could recount for many pages the contributions he made to so many familiar resources as a longtime member of the National Formation Committee, but all of those things only scratch the surface of his life and his legacy. As a regular presenter at Regional Meetings and the National Assembly, James was known to many Vincentians across the country. It is not enough to say that he was a gifted speaker, because he did so much more than convey information, or entertain, or teach – although he did all those things, too. When James led a workshop, he touched people’s hearts. I truly believe that nearly everybody who attended one of his talks left the room feeling…loved.

I was blessed to meet James about ten years ago but came to know him better a few years later when we were asked to present a half-day workshop at the South Central Regional Meeting. Although we bounced some PowerPoint slides back and forth by email, we literally did not prepare or rehearse at all. Somehow, it didn’t seem necessary. During that workshop, we completed each other’s sentences like an old married couple, traded jokes like a vaudeville act, and even we felt as if we’d been working together for years. Afterwards a few people told us we were like “The Jim and Tim Show” and the name stuck. A few years later we even got t-shirts made with a list of cities we had “played” on the back. We both loved being a team.

All friendships begin with an encounter. Our encounter was “on stage” but it could have been anywhere. James was a friend at first sight, a “soul friend”, and I will miss him, but I know that he still prays for me and for all his fellow Vincentians. As Blessed Frédéric reminds us, “our beloved dead do not forget us any more than we forget them, that they think of us, love us, pray for us, that perhaps they walk with us as invisible guardians. And when we are greeted by some good thought, some generous feeling, some virtuous inspiration whose origins are unknown to us, let us think that it came to us from them, that it is a gift by which they wish to call our memories back to them, an inner voice by which they speak to us and seek to help us reach them where they have gone.” [113 bis, To La Perrière, 1836]

Rest in peace, my friend, and pray for me.

Contemplate

Do I “love with the awareness of a future farewell, but also with the knowledge of a reunion that follows”??

Recommended Reading

Serving in Hope Module VII

Contemplación: Una Inspiración Virtuosa

Traducción de Sandra Joya

La semana pasada, mi querido amigo James Davis falleció, finalmente en paz tras años de enfermedad y otras dificultades. A pesar de todo, su gran alegría siguió siendo una bendición para todos los que tuvieron el privilegio de conocerlo, muchos de los cuales desconocían el sufrimiento que padecía. James fue un católico fiel, un vicentino comprometido, consejero espiritual de su Conferencia y de la Región Centro Sur, esposo, padre, abuelo, amigo de muchos y un hombre excepcional.

James deja un valioso legado que en la Sociedad podemos seguir atesorando. Fue el autor principal del Módulo VII de «Sirviendo con Esperanza», que se centra en nuestra apreciada visita domiciliaria. También fue coautor de nuestra revista sobre visitas domiciliarias, «La Espiritualidad de la Visita Domiciliaria». Podría enumerar durante muchas páginas las contribuciones que hizo a tantos recursos conocidos como miembro de larga trayectoria del Comité Nacional de Formación, pero todo esto apenas roza la superficie de su vida y su legado. Como ponente habitual en las Reuniones Regionales y la Asamblea Nacional, James era conocido por muchos vicentinos de todo el país. No basta con decir que era un orador excepcional, porque hacía mucho más que transmitir información, entretener o enseñar, aunque también lo hacía. Cuando James impartía un taller, conmovía a la gente. Creo sinceramente que casi todos los que asistían a una de sus charlas salían de la sala sintiéndose… queridos.

Tuve la suerte de conocer a James hace unos diez años, pero llegué a conocerlo mejor unos años después, cuando nos pidieron que presentáramos un taller de medio día en la Reunión Regional del Centro Sur. Aunque intercambiamos algunas diapositivas de PowerPoint por correo electrónico, literalmente no nos preparamos ni ensayamos en absoluto. De alguna manera, no parecía necesario. Durante ese taller, nos complementábamos a la perfección, como un matrimonio de muchos años, contábamos chistes como en un número de vodevil, e incluso nosotros nos sentíamos como si lleváramos años trabajando juntos. Después, algunas personas nos dijeron que éramos como «El Show de Jim y Tim», y el nombre se quedó. Unos años más tarde, incluso nos hicimos camisetas con la lista de ciudades en las que habíamos «actuado» impresa en la espalda. A ambos nos encantaba trabajar en equipo.

Toda amistad comienza con un encuentro. El nuestro fue sobre el escenario, pero pudo haber sido en cualquier lugar. James fue un amigo a primera vista, un amigo del alma, y ​​lo echaré de menos, pero sé que sigue rezando por mí y por todos sus compañeros vicentinos. Como nos recuerda el beato Federico: «Nuestros amados difuntos no nos olvidan, como nosotros tampoco los olvidamos a ellos; piensan en nosotros, nos aman, rezan por nosotros, y quizá caminan con nosotros como guardianes invisibles. Y cuando nos asalta algún buen pensamiento, algún sentimiento generoso, alguna inspiración virtuosa cuyo origen desconocemos, pensemos que nos llega de ellos, que es un don con el que desean evocar nuestros recuerdos, una voz interior con la que nos hablan y buscan ayudarnos a alcanzarlos adonde han ido». [113 bis, A La Perrière, 1836]

Descansa en paz, amigo mío, y ruega por mí.

Contemplar

¿Amo “con la conciencia de una futura despedida, pero también con la certeza de un reencuentro posterior”?

Leer en Español

By Timothy P. Williams, Senior Director of Formation and Leadership Development 

We often repeat St. Vincent’s words, that we should “love God…with the strength of our arms and the sweat of our brows” [CCD XI:32], understanding this (correctly) to mean that all of our works of charity are expressions of love for the Creator. Our rule affirms this, explaining that we work not for any reward or advantage for ourselves, but “for love alone”. [Rule, Part I, 2.2] Over and over, Vincent and Frédéric remind us that the proof of our love for God is in the sweat and toil of our works. This definition of love seems very different than the warmth and affection that the word naturally conjures in our minds.

When we love a friend, a child, a spouse, a mentor, we feel a natural affection; we like to be with them. We naturally smile in their presence, and seek out their company. We can hardly help ourselves but to pick up our children and hug them. Surely, this is love, too!

We just as naturally feel affection and warmth towards our loving God. As St. Vincent put it, we are “filled with warmth and affection… continually aware of the presence of God, [find] satisfaction in thinking about Him” and spend our lives “imperceptibly in such contemplation.” [CCD IX:973] This love, which St. Vincent, following the teaching of St. Francis de Sales, called affective love, becomes our motivation to do things, even difficult things, in order to please God – for His sake, not our own.

In a similar way, the natural affective love we have for our spouses and children inspires us to try to please them, and more importantly, to work for their good. How would it be, after all, if our love for our families consisted only of hugs and affection, without doing the work needed to feed, shelter, protect, and teach them? When we do this work, even, and perhaps especially, when it is unappreciated, this is what Vincet termed effective love. We act for the good of the one we love.

As St Thomas Aquinas wrote, to love is to will the good of another. [Summa,IIII, Q27, A2] How, then, do we will the good of God? The good of God, St. Vincent said, is for ”His name to be made known and revealed to everyone, that He may reign over the earth, and that His Will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” [CCD XI:35] To love God, then, to will His good, is to do His will; to make His will our own.

And it is God’s will that we see and serve Him in the poor, in the despairing, in the hungry, the prisoner, the stranger, and the sick. We offer them not only our affection, but our time, talents, possessions, and ourselves. After all, as St. James teaches, “If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well,’ but you do not give them the necessities of the body, what good is it?” To love God is to love what He loves, both affectively and effectively. Faith and works, then, become one in love.

Contemplate

Is my love for the neighbor, and for God, truly more than words?

Recommended Reading

Turn Everything to Love

Contemplación: Un amor en acción

Traducción de Sandra Joya

A menudo repetimos las palabras de San Vicente, que debemos “amar a Dios… con la fuerza de nuestros brazos y el sudor de nuestra frente” [CCD XI:32], entendiendo esto (correctamente) como que todas nuestras obras de caridad son expresiones de amor al Creador. Nuestra regla lo afirma, explicando que trabajamos no por ninguna recompensa o ventaja para nosotros mismos, sino “solo por amor”. [Regla, Parte I, 2.2] Una y otra vez, Vicente y Frédéric nos recuerdan que la prueba de nuestro amor a Dios está en el sudor y el esfuerzo de nuestras obras. Esta definición de amor parece muy diferente de la calidez y el afecto que la palabra evoca naturalmente en nuestras mentes.

Cuando amamos a un amigo, un hijo, un cónyuge, un mentor, sentimos un afecto natural; nos gusta estar con ellos. Naturalmente sonreímos en su presencia y buscamos su compañía. Nos resulta casi imposible no abrazar a nuestros hijos. ¡Sin duda, esto también es amor!

De la misma manera, sentimos afecto y calidez hacia nuestro amado Dios. Como dijo San Vicente, estamos “llenos de calidez y afecto… continuamente conscientes de la presencia de Dios, [encontrando] satisfacción al pensar en Él” y pasamos nuestras vidas “imperceptiblemente en tal contemplación”. [CCD IX:973] Este amor, que San Vicente, siguiendo la enseñanza de San Francisco de Sales, llamó amor afectivo, se convierte en nuestra motivación para hacer cosas, incluso cosas difíciles, para agradar a Dios, por Él, no por nosotros mismos.

De manera similar, el amor afectivo natural que sentimos por nuestros cónyuges e hijos nos inspira a intentar complacerlos y, lo que es más importante, a trabajar por su bien. ¿Cómo sería, después de todo, si nuestro amor por nuestras familias consistiera solo en abrazos y afecto, sin hacer el trabajo necesario para alimentarlos, darles cobijo, protegerlos y educarlos? Cuando hacemos este trabajo, incluso, y quizás especialmente, cuando no es apreciado, esto es lo que Vicente denominó amor afectivo. Actuamos por el bien de la persona que amamos.

Como escribió Santo Tomás de Aquino, amar es querer el bien del otro. [Summa, II-II, Q27, A2] ¿Cómo, entonces, queremos el bien de Dios?  El bien de Dios, decía San Vicente, consiste en que «su nombre sea dado a conocer y revelado a todos, para que reine sobre la tierra y se haga su voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo». [CCD XI:35] Amar a Dios, entonces, desear su bien, es hacer su voluntad; hacer de su voluntad la nuestra.

Y la voluntad de Dios es que lo veamos y lo sirvamos en los pobres, en los desesperados, en los hambrientos, en los presos, en los extranjeros y en los enfermos. Les ofrecemos no solo nuestro afecto, sino también nuestro tiempo, talentos, bienes y a nosotros mismos. Después de todo, como enseña Santiago: «¿De qué sirve si uno de ustedes, al ver a un hermano o una hermana desnudos o sin el alimento necesario, les dice: ‘Vayan en paz, caliéntense y coman’, y no les da lo que necesitan para su cuerpo?». Amar a Dios es amar lo que Él ama, tanto de corazón como con obras. La fe y las obras, entonces, se unen en el amor.

Contemplar

¿Es mi amor por el prójimo y por Dios verdaderamente más que simples palabras?

Leer en Español

By Timothy P. Williams, Senior Director of Formation and Leadership Development 

It seems to be the central irony of this Vincentian vocation that our Society’s primary purpose is our own growth in holiness. Most, if not all of us join the Society in order to serve others, only to learn later that we are primarily serving ourselves. Blessed Frédéric himself commented on this apparent contradiction. Having explained that our home visits are as much for ourselves as for the neighbor, he suggested that “this motive of personal interest, this egoism at the bottom of our work, might cause it to lose something of your esteem.” [82, to Curnier, 1834]

It does seem backwards if you view it this way. We are called to works of true charity, to give of ourselves “for love alone”, yet we also believe, as Frédéric said, that “visiting the poor should be the means and not the end of our association.” [182, to Lallier, 1838] Read in isolation, this sounds like an instrumentalist view of charitable works, reducing the neighbors to mere objects. Yet nothing could be further from the truth of our calling.

Recall that when asked which is the Greatest Commandment, Christ gave us two: first to love God, and second to love the neighbor just as we love ourselves. These words are echoed in our Catechism’s definition of the virtue of charity. [CCC:1822] Frédéric points out that this call to love of God and neighbor mentions, but “does not prescribe self-love, because it is so innate that it needs to be enlightened, moderated, and not ordained.” [29, to Materne, 1831] In other words, love of self, properly understood, is love for the gift of self that we have received from God, which, like all of His gifts, is meant to be shared.

While a disordered self-love can lead us to pride or vanity, it can also lead us to a false humility, in which “love grows weak, and self-interest hides beneath the false austerity of our disappointment. We are only so unhappy because we love ourselves too much.” [160, to Lallier, 1837] To live our virtue of charity, to answer our Vincentian calling, requires us to love ourselves not as idols, but as creatures made in God’s image, living vessels of God’s love. The Greatest Commandment, Frédéric explained, “is a magnificent law that identifies three principles for human actions: the infinite, immense, boundless love of God; love for one’s neighbor, related to the love of God; and lastly the love of oneself, subordinate to the other two.” [29, to Materne, 1831]

And so, this “central irony” is not ironic at all. Our love of the neighbor is only an expression of our love for God Himself, Who first loved us into being, and wants us to come to Him. We can’t truly love the neighbor without recognizing God’s love in and for ourselves. With this understanding, we can say with Frédéric, “Self-love shall be the basis of my private life, love of my fellow man shall be the basis of my social life, love of God shall soar up above them both, as the first and final principle behind all of my works, the A and Ω.” [Ibid]

Contemplate

When I look in the mirror, just as when I look at the neighbor, do I see and love the image of God?

Recommended Reading

Letters of Frédéric Ozanam: Earliest Letters

Contemplación: El Primer y Último Principio

Traducción de Sandra Joya

Parece ser la ironía central de esta vocación vicentina que el propósito principal de nuestra Sociedad sea nuestro propio crecimiento en santidad. La mayoría, si no todos, nos unimos a la Sociedad para servir a los demás, solo para descubrir más tarde que, en primer lugar, nos servimos a nosotros mismos. El Beato Frédéric mismo comentó sobre esta aparente contradicción. Después de explicar que nuestras visitas a domicilio son tanto para nosotros como para el prójimo, sugirió que “este motivo de interés personal, este egoísmo en el fondo de nuestra obra, podría hacer que pierda algo de su estima”. [82, a Curnier, 1834]

Parece contradictorio si se ve de esta manera. Estamos llamados a obras de verdadera caridad, a entregarnos “solo por amor”, sin embargo, también creemos, como dijo Frédéric, que “visitar a los pobres debe ser el medio y no el fin de nuestra asociación”. [182, a Lallier, 1838] Leído de forma aislada, esto suena a una visión instrumentalista de las obras de caridad, reduciendo a los prójimos a meros objetos. Sin embargo, nada podría estar más lejos de la verdad de nuestro llamado.

Recordemos que, al preguntarle cuál es el Mandamiento más grande, Cristo nos dio dos: primero, amar a Dios, y segundo, amar al prójimo como a nosotros mismos. Estas palabras se reflejan en la definición de la virtud de la caridad en nuestro Catecismo. [CIC:1822] Frédéric señala que este llamado al amor de Dios y del prójimo menciona, pero “no prescribe el amor propio, porque es tan innato que necesita ser iluminado, moderado y no ordenado”. [29, a Materne, 1831] En otras palabras, el amor propio, bien entendido, es amor por el don de nosotros mismos que hemos recibido de Dios, el cual, como todos sus dones, está destinado a ser compartido.

Si bien un amor propio desordenado puede llevarnos al orgullo o la vanidad, también puede llevarnos a una falsa humildad, en la que “el amor se debilita y el interés propio se esconde bajo la falsa austeridad de nuestra decepción. Solo somos tan infelices porque nos amamos demasiado a nosotros mismos”.  [160, a Lallier, 1837] Vivir nuestra virtud de la caridad, responder a nuestra vocación vicentina, nos exige amarnos a nosotros mismos no como ídolos, sino como criaturas hechas a imagen de Dios, recipientes vivos del amor divino. El Mandamiento principal, explicó Frédéric, “es una ley magnífica que identifica tres principios para las acciones humanas: el amor infinito, inmenso e ilimitado de Dios; el amor al prójimo, relacionado con el amor de Dios; y, por último, el amor a uno mismo, subordinado a los dos anteriores”. [29, a Materne, 1831]

Y así, esta “ironía central” no es irónica en absoluto. Nuestro amor al prójimo es solo una expresión de nuestro amor a Dios mismo, quien nos amó primero y nos creó, y desea que volvamos a Él. No podemos amar verdaderamente al prójimo sin reconocer el amor de Dios en nosotros y para nosotros. Con esta comprensión, podemos decir con Frédéric: “El amor propio será la base de mi vida privada, el amor al prójimo será la base de mi vida social, el amor de Dios se elevará por encima de ambos, como el primer y último principio de todas mis obras, el Alfa y la Omega”. [Ibid]

Contemplar

¿Cuando me miro al espejo, al igual que cuando miro al prójimo, ¿veo y amo la imagen de Dios?

Leer en Español

By Timothy P. Williams, Senior Director of Formation and Leadership Development 

The challenge of poverty seems always to be urgent, to demand our immediate attention and action. As people of action, Vincentians can even sometimes become impatient with one another as we seek to put into motion new plans and new works to serve the neighbor. St. Vincent would ask us to slow down, reminding us that “God is never rushed. He does all things in their own good time.” [Abelly, Bk I, 227]

Surely, the hungry need not wait to be fed, but in developing new special works, collaborations with other organizations, or long-term plans with our communities, haste is not a virtue. It is partly for this reason that it is the Society’s practice to make decisions by consensus of the members. Although this might appear at times to be a very slow way of making plans, each of us has particular insights into God’s will for us, and none of us can know in advance which of us the Holy Spirit may choose to inspire. Seeking consensus is not about finding a middle ground but about finding the highest ground – the will of God.

Jesus Himself, Vincent pointed out, bided His time for thirty years before embarking on His mission, and even then, He did not choose to establish His church worldwide and all at once. On the contrary, He only laid the groundwork, entrusting the apostles, and in turn, us, to continue the work. If it is God’s will we seek, then it is in God’s way that we can best accomplish it. If, on the other hand we “act precipitously, we run the risk of thwarting the designs of God.” [Ibid, 228]

“What should we do, then?” Vincent asks. “Go gently, pray much to God and act in union of heart.” [Ibid, 227] The work that we do, and the works that we seek to build, are for the poor, but also are meant to draw us closer to holiness, which comes not from building a resume of good works, but from doing God’s will.

After all, St Louise remind us, “It is not enough to visit the poor and to provide for their needs; one’s heart must be totally purged of all self-interest”. [SWLM, L.217] It is when we do God’s will for God’s sake, not our own, we can trust that God will provide what is needed for the work to succeed. This also requires us to measure success in God’s terms, for “We’re mistaken…if we base the outcome of our little works on worldly esteem”. [CCD XII:231] Discerning God’s will together, however long it takes, is the path we are called to take.

“If the work we propose is from him it will succeed and endure, but if it is solely a human enterprise it will not do much good, nor will it last long.” [Abelly, Bk I, 228]

Time is on God’s side, and God is on our side.

Contemplate

Does my Conference sometimes rush to “do something” without fully, prayerfully discerning God’s will?

Recommended Reading

A Month with St Vincent de Paul – and take a whole month to read it.

Contemplación: Avanzar con dulzura, orar mucho

Traducción de Sandra Joya

El desafío de la pobreza parece siempre urgente, exige nuestra atención y acción inmediatas. Como personas de acción, los Vicentinos a veces incluso podemos impacientarnos unos a otros al intentar poner en marcha nuevos planes y nuevas obras para servir al prójimo. San Vicente nos pedía que fuéramos más despacio, recordándonos que «Dios nunca tiene prisa. Él hace todas las cosas a su debido tiempo». [Abelly, Libro I, 227]

Sin duda, los hambrientos no necesitan esperar a ser alimentados, pero al desarrollar nuevas obras especiales, colaboraciones con otras organizaciones o planes a largo plazo con nuestras comunidades, la prisa no es una virtud. En parte por esta razón, la Sociedad suele tomar decisiones por consenso entre sus miembros. Aunque a veces parezca una forma muy lenta de hacer planes, cada uno tiene una visión particular de la voluntad de Dios para sí mismo, y nadie puede saber de antemano a quién inspirará el Espíritu Santo.  Buscar el consenso no se trata de encontrar un punto medio, sino de encontrar el punto más alto: la voluntad de Dios.

Jesús mismo, señaló Vicente, esperó treinta años antes de embarcarse en su misión, e incluso entonces, no eligió establecer su iglesia mundial y de una sola vez. Al contrario, solo sentó las bases, confiando a los apóstoles, y a su vez, a nosotros, la continuación de la obra. Si buscamos la voluntad de Dios, entonces es a su manera como mejor podemos lograrla. Si, por el contrario, «actuamos precipitadamente, corremos el riesgo de frustrar los designios de Dios». [Ibíd., 228]

«¿Qué debemos hacer, entonces?», pregunta Vicente. «Ir con dulzura, orar mucho a Dios y actuar con unidad de corazón». [Ibíd., 227] El trabajo que realizamos, y las obras que buscamos construir, son para los pobres, pero también tienen como objetivo acercarnos a la santidad, que no proviene de acumular buenas obras, sino de hacer la voluntad de Dios.  Después de todo, Santa Luisa nos recuerda: «No basta con visitar a los pobres y proveer a sus necesidades; es necesario que el corazón esté totalmente purificado de todo interés propio». [SWLM, L.217] Es cuando hacemos la voluntad de Dios por amor a Dios, no por la nuestra, que podemos confiar en que Dios proveerá lo necesario para que la obra tenga éxito. Esto también requiere que medamos el éxito según los criterios de Dios, pues «Nos equivocamos… si basamos el resultado de nuestras pequeñas obras en la estima mundana». [CCD XII:231] Discernir juntos la voluntad de Dios, por mucho tiempo que lleve, es el camino que estamos llamados a seguir.

«Si la obra que nos proponemos proviene de Él, tendrá éxito y perdurará, pero si es solo una empresa humana, no servirá de mucho ni durará mucho». [Abelly, Libro I, 228]

El tiempo está del lado de Dios, y Dios está de nuestro lado.

Contemplar

¿A veces mi Conferencia se apresura a hacer algo sin discernir plenamente y con oración la voluntad de Dios?

Leer en Español

By Timothy P. Williams, Senior Director of Formation and Leadership Development 

“Love,” St. Vincent taught, “is inventive even to infinity.” Vincent’s example in this observation was the ultimate example of both love and creativity, the institution of the Eucharist by Jesus, who recognized that “His absence could cause some forgetfulness or cooling off in our hearts”, and so He ensured His continued presence among us. [CCD XI:139] Throughout time, we are regularly invited to partake of Him, to join with Him physically and spiritually; to be in communion.

This communion unites us with Christ’s entire body, the body of the church, comprised of all the faithful. Communion unites us with Jesus and with each other. Blessed Frédéric reflected on this effect of the sacrament, saying to one friend that “when I have not been able to be with you…I have found you at the altar. I believe firmly that when I am receiving, I am in close touch with my friends, all united to the same Savior.” [Baunard, 381] When we receive Communion, we are never alone – we are in communion.

Yet, our friends and family here on earth do not comprise the full body of the church. As St. Louise explained, “Holy Communion with the Body of Jesus Christ causes us truly to participate in the joy of the Communion of Saints in Paradise.” [SWLM, A.15] As Frédéric recognized, that “mysterious connection that the Church calls the communion of saints” reminds us ”that our beloved dead do not forget us any more than we forget them, that they think of us, love us, pray for us, that perhaps they walk with us as invisible guardians.” [1353, to La Perrière, 1836]

After the death of his mother, he said that when receiving Communion, “it seems to me that she follows Him into my poor heart… Then I firmly believe in the actual presence of my mother by my side.” [Baunard, 158] Indeed, the Catechism teaches that “The communion of saints must be understood as the communion of the sacraments…. the name ‘communion’ can be applied to all of them, for they unite us to God…. But this name is better suited to the Eucharist than to any other….” [CCC, 950] In turn, the Eucharist compels us to share ourselves generously with the neighbor, just as Frédéric did, visiting the homes of the poor after Mass. “He thus returned to Our Lord,” his biographer wrote, “in the person of His suffering poor, the visit which he had just received from Him in the Holy Eucharist.” [Baunard, 209]

Our Rule, explaining our journey together towards holiness, especially notes our “devotion to the Eucharist”. [Rule, Part I, 2.2] How could it be otherwise? We are the body of Christ, and in receiving the body of Christ in the sacrament, we are united in in faith, united in love, united in the sacraments, united with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and finally, we are united with the ones Christ came especially to serve and to bless, so that we, too, may devote ourselves to them fully and creatively.

Contemplate

How often does my Conference receive the Eucharist together?

Recommended Reading

Mystic of Charity

Contemplación: Plena y Creativa

Traducción de Sandra Joya

Contemplar

¿Con qué frecuencia mi Conferencia recibe la Eucaristía juntos?

Leer en Español

By Timothy P. Williams, Senior Director of Formation and Leadership Development 

“There but for the grace of God go I” we often think when we meet the neighbor on our home visits. We are reminded how precarious and fragile life can be, and how easily any one of us can fall into deprivation through no fault of our own. We offer our gentle encouragement and try to be as generous as possible in relieving the needs of our suffering neighbors. Often, we leave feeling deeply moved and even transformed by the encounter. These visits seem to bear out Frédéric’s observation that they are “more for ourselves than for them”. [82, to Curnier, 1834]

But then there are the “frequent flyers.” You know, the ones who just called last month, and the month before, and who knows how many times before that. It isn’t just that they call frequently – sometimes we don’t hear from them for a year. It just seems like when they do call, it’s always the same thing, and it so often seems easily avoidable. We know them already. We’ve met them a dozen times. It’s hard to identify with them, because sometimes it seems like they are just choosing to fall behind.

And they don’t seem to listen to our advice, or at least not to heed it. They don’t have to follow our advice, of course, but we’ve tried to develop a relationship of trust and friendship. We only offer advice out of love, and our help is never conditional on taking our advice.

But come on! How many times do we have to keep doing the same old thing before we just cut them off? We don’t want to give up on them, but maybe we should try to be a little more – I don’t know – tough?

That’s hard to do, too, though, isn’t it? Even if it seems like their own fault that the light bill is overdue (again) we don’t want them to suffer in the summer heat. Even if they spent that big tax refund last month (why are they getting a tax refund anyway?) instead of thinking about the rent this month, we don’t want to see them (and their kids) thrown out on the street.

Our frustration builds when we see who’s calling. We already know what they’re calling about. It’s the thing they were certain would never happen again, so before we answer, we try to remind ourselves it isn’t supposed to be about the money, even though it always seems to work out that way. If it is “more for ourselves than for them”, is it they who are missing something each time we talk, or is it us?

And so, the call for mercy begins, just as it always does: “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…”

Contemplate

Do I offer the same mercy that I am prepared to accept for myself?

Recommended Reading

Letters of Frédéric Ozanam, Volume I

Contemplación: Redimiendo Nuestras Millas

Traducción de Sandra Joya

Contemplar

¿Ofrezco la misma misericordia que estoy dispuesto a aceptar para mí?

Leer en Español

By Timothy P. Williams, Senior Director of Formation and Leadership Development 

Viewing the world in systems theory, we recognize the interactivity and interdependence of the parts of a system, and how affecting one part can change the whole system. The human body is a system, and while the heart may be only one part, its proper functioning affects the other parts. So it also is with social systems. It is through this framework that we envision “systemic change”, but the true roots of systemic change lie not in an esoteric theory of systems, but in God’s creative and loving plan.

Systemic change, sometimes viewed as a modern deviation from our Vincentian vocation, our dedication to our person-to-person service, is rather the natural progression of the home visit, just as it has been since our earliest days. We do not revere the poor so as to keep them in poverty, but, as Blessed Frédéric explained, “The same authority that tells us there will always be poor people among us is also the one that commands us to do everything possible to ensure that there are no more.” [Of Alms, l’Ere nouvelle, 1848]

“Defend the lowly and fatherless; render justice to the afflicted and needy. Rescue the lowly and poor; deliver them from the hand of the wicked” the psalmist tells us. Further, we are told not to “be so thorough that you reap the field to its very edge, …pick your vineyard bare… These things you shall leave for the poor…” [Lv 19:9-10] We are even commanded to forgive our debtors every seven years. [DT 15:1] In each instance, we are called not only to offer alms, but to alter systems, remove barriers, enable and empower the poor to support themselves.

To truly form relationships based on trust and friendship, as our Rule calls us to do, is to seek ways to walk with the neighbor not only in his poverty, but out of it. So it was with our earliest Conferences, who in the 1830s had begun apprenticeship programs to help young men learn trades, and established libraries and schools to prepare soldiers for life after the army. Systemic change, then, in its simplest form, is to teach a man to fish, or at least, not to prevent him from fishing. In its fullest form, systemic change programs are most effective when we collaborate with as many as possible in our communities.

The system we are called to affect is a body; a body of which we all are parts, and the change we seek is achieved by living our faith, in looking always to “Christianity, which has equally reproved socialist errors and selfish passions, which is alone able to realize the ideal of fraternity without sacrifice of liberty, which is alone able to find the greatest earthly happiness for men”. [Baunard, 279]

Ultimately, systemic change, the system we seek to build, and that we are called to build, is the civilization of love.

Contemplate

Does my Conference discuss our neighbors’ needs, seeking common causes we can affect?

Recommended Reading

Seeds of Hope, Stories of Systemic Change

Contemplación: Un Sistema de Amor

Traducción de Sandra Joya

Contemplar

¿Mi Conferencia aborda las necesidades de nuestros vecinos y busca causas comunes en las que podamos contribuir?

Leer en Español

By Timothy P. Williams, Senior Director of Formation and Leadership Development 

Indifference, St. Vincent taught, is the key to attaining holiness. Bl. Frédéric prescribed the same disposition using the word resignation. To our ears these words carry negative connotations, implying apathy or quitting. Something certainly is lost in the translation, because, far from quitting, indifference demands of us perseverance in the pursuit of the good. As Vincent explained it “we have to resign ourselves to the good pleasure of God to bear with what He pleases and as long as it pleases Him…let’s hold fast to that, and ask God to grant us the grace to remain constantly in this state of indifference.” [CCD XI:37]

So, what does it mean to be indifferent, or resigned, if it does not mean hanging our heads in helpless sorrow? St. Louise explained that indifference “is an angelic state because the angels in heaven, who are destined to serve souls, await peacefully the command of God”. [SWLM, L.642] Indifference is acceptance of God’s will, and it is necessary to be indifferent to the state in which God places us so that we are always ready to do His will, on earth as it is in heaven, where, as Frédéric said, it is done “with the love and the joy of angels.” [Baunard, 343]

Indifference – holy indifference, as Vincent often called it – requires us to let go of our attachment to the worldly, not only wealth or power, fashion or beauty, ego or ambition, but even our very health. St. Vincent went so far as to say that “infirmities and sufferings come from God. Death, life, health, sickness-all these come by order of His Providence and, no matter how they come, they’re always for our benefit and salvation.” [CCD XI:62] Thomas Merton once observed that his vow of poverty wasn’t true poverty, because he could always walk away from it; always go get something more to eat. Physical ailments and sickness are not so easily escaped, and so in our physical suffering we truly share in the suffering of the poor and of Christ.

Often, we are disappointed that so many of the poor we serve remain poor, and we allow ourselves to forget that the hope in which we serve is much greater than this world, and that “giving love, talents and time is more important than giving money.” [Rule, Part I, 3.14] Our own suffering helps remind us of that, and as Frédéric once asked, “How do we preach resignation and courage to the unfortunate when we feel devoid of it ourselves?” [1372, Report to the Society, 1838]

Indifference and resignation are better translated as availability or unrestricted readiness. We eagerly accept what we are given as a means to our sanctification, in the hope that it will draw us closer to Christ, and by our example, draw others to Him, also.

Contemplate

Do I truly accept disappointment and success, health and suffering equally as God’s loving will for me?

Recommended Reading

A Month with St. Vincent de Paul

Contemplación: Hágase Su Voluntad

Traducción de Sandra Joya

Contemplar

¿Acepto verdaderamente la decepción y el éxito, la salud y el sufrimiento por igual, como la voluntad amorosa de Dios para mí?