The Hard Art of Forgiveness
"Yet despite these rumblings from the early ascetic Christians, forgiveness seems to remain a theme waiting to be explored in depth in our present age. This deep and extensive kind of loving of enemies, while it has long roots in our tradition, seems to have become a theme of special urgency in the contemporary world. The annals of sanctity contain anecdotes about particular saints who have found themselves able, generally in imitation of Christ's forgiving words uttered on the cross, to express forgiveness of those who hate them. But the theme is oddly underdeveloped in the literature of the spiritual life until our times. Especially in our turbulent twentieth century, perhaps the most grim in human history in terms of sheer numbers of persons destroyed by war and famine, the hard art of forgiveness of enemies has presented itself for our consideration."
— The Rising: Living the Mysteries of Lent, Easter, and Pentecost
Gentleness, a Little Virtue
"One of my favorite interpreters of the wisdom that the last shall be first is Francis de Sales, seventeenth-century bishop and spiritual writer. . . . Many of his contemporaries preached of virtue, especially great, heroic virtues like courage or exemplary self-discipline. Francis urged his followers to develop instead the little, hidden virtues like gentleness, kindness, patience, simplicity, and mutual regard — the interpersonal virtues. These were for him the qualities of the Christ life.
"De Sales drew his portrait of the gentle Jesus from the Gospel of Matthew (11:29-30), in which Christ is quoted as inviting others to take his yoke upon their shoulders, to come and learnfrom him, for he is gentle and humble of heart. For de Sales this learning was to be acquired by imitating Jesus' own gentleness and humility. Not merely 'nice' acceptable virtues, the little virtues held the keys to the kingdom. For by cultivating them one subverted the dominant character values held in esteem by most.
"Chief among de Sales' 'little virtues' is douceur, often rendered in English as gentleness, sweetness, graciousness, meekness, and the like.Douceur is the quality of person that corresponds to the light burden offered by the Matthean Jesus to those otherwise heavy-laden. It connotes an almost maternal quality of service, a quality of service bathed in tender concern.Douceur also suggests a sense of being grace-filled, graceful in the broadest sense of the term. This gracefulness extends from external behavior — pleasant manners and convivial disposition — to the quality of a person's heart, the way one is ordered and disposed interiorly.Douceur is ideally exhibited in all situations, even the most difficult, and underlies one's every act."
— The Rising: Living the Mysteries of Lent, Easter, and Pentecost
The Human Heart is a Reflection of God's Heart
"God's Heart is life-giving, it is a womb, a fountain, a vital restless energy that breathes, pulses and beats. . . . Human beings, according to the scriptural witness, are made in the image and likeness of God. For Salesian spirituality, this divine identity is most clearly realized in the human heart. (It is important to note that for Francis de Sales, 'heart' does not connote merely sentiment, affection, or emotion. Instead it retains its biblical meaning as the core or center of the person. Thus 'heart' involves intellect and reason as well as affection and will.) The human heart, created to know and love God is, like its divine counterpart, dynamic and relational. It too breathes and beats. Through inspiration it draws in love. By aspiration it pours itself out towards its neighbor and its ultimate source. The human heart, it might be said, is made to beat in rhythm with the heart of God. Francis called the two motions of the loving heart, the 'love of complacence' (a receptive love) and the 'love of benevolence' (an active love)."
— Heart Speaks to Heart: The Salesian Tradition
The Spiritual Life of the Family
"The spiritual life of the family also spans the generations. Beyond the threshold of the door through which the ever-changing life of the family passes, is the hallway. Like the corridors in a medieval castle, the walls of the hallway are lined with the family's heraldry. Here the family identity is expressed in the dozens of faces that peer from photographs or painted portraits: a picture of the bride and groom, a snapshot of the first child in the arms of her aunt, a portrait with all the family members formally posed wearing their Sunday best, a picture of the high school prom, a college graduate in solemn black robes, grandparents standing in front of the farm back home, an uncle in military dress who died in a long-ago war.
"The spiritual life of the family encompasses all these faces. An intertwining of destiny, of shared gifts, of collectively suffered pain makes the family a profoundly interdependent entity.
"The stories that the hallway gallery illustrate serve as reminders of the family history: 'This is who we are.' 'This is where we come from.' 'This is the home we have built.' For any one of the family's members to understand who he or she is, something of its story must be passed on and recounted within the family."
— Sacred Dwelling: A Spirituality of Family Life
Families as Spiritual Teachers
"Our families teach us, as no other teacher could, something of the spiritual life — something about the tenderness, ecstasy, and grief of love. I have come to the conclusion that the fundamental art of the spiritual life is the art of paying attention. By this, I do not mean simply being aware of what is going on around you; I mean a contemplative attentiveness that is alive to both the outer and inner dimensions of life and especially alive to the deep ground of silence that undergirds all that is, an attentiveness that can discern, amid all the noise and confusion, the still, small voice of God."
— Season's of a Family's Life: Cultivating the Contemplative Spirit at Home
