Salesian Literature

 

3.  Faith

Sermon for Thursday after the First Sunday of Lent, February 17, 1622, concerning faith as the adhesion of the understanding to the truths revealed by God or the Church, living faith which produces the fruit of good works vs. dead or dying faith, vigilant, penetrating faith vs. dormant faith, the supernatural prudence which accompanies vigilant faith, attentive faith, confidence in prayer, perseverance in prayer, patience in prayer, and humility in prayer.

 

"Woman, how great is your faith. Let it be done as you desire.'—Matt.   15:28

 

On this day preachers praise the virtues of the Canaanite woman in various ways. For myself, I will treat of faith, showing you what it is. I will attempt to show the relationship between what I have to say to you with what occurred in the Gospel between Our Lord and the Canaanite woman. [Matt. 15:21-28]. In this way you will learn the qualities that faith should have.

 

When the Saviour said: Woman, how great is your faith, was it because this woman's faith was greater than ours? Certainly not as regards its object, because faith has for its object the truths revealed by God or the Church, and it is nothing else but an adhesion of our understanding to these truths which it finds both beautiful and good. Consequently, it comes to believe them, and the will comes to love them. For just as goodness is the object of the will, beauty is that of the understanding. In our day-to-day life, goodness is coveted through our sense appetite and beauty is loved through our eyes. In our spiritual life, it happens in the same way in regard to the truths of faith. These truths are good, sweet and true, and are not only loved and desired by the will, but are also valued by the understanding because of the beauty it finds in them. They are beautiful because they are true; for beauty is never without truth, nor truth without beauty. Moreover, beautiful things which are not true are not really beautiful either. They are false and deceitful.

 

Now the truths of faith, being true indeed, are loved because of the beauty of this truth, which is the object of the understanding. I say loved, for although the will has goodness for the direct object of its love, nevertheless when the beauty of revealed truths is represented to it by the understanding, it also discovers goodness there, and loves this goodness and beauty of the mysteries of our faith.[1] In order to have great faith, the understanding must perceive the beauty of this faith. For this reason when Our Lord desires to draw some creature to knowledge of the truth [1 Tim. 2:4] He always reveals its beauty to him. The understanding, feeling itself drawn or captivated by it, communicates this truth to the will, which accordingly loves it for the goodness and beauty it recognizes there. Finally, the love that these two powers have for revealed truths prompts the person to forsake everything in order to believe them and embrace them. This is done spiritually. All this helps to explain how faith can be said to be nothing else but an adhesion of the understanding and will to divine truths.

 

With reference to its object, faith cannot be greater for some truths than for others. Nor can it be less with regard to the number of truths to be believed. For we must all believe the very same thing, both as to the object of faith as well as to the number of truths. All are equal in this, because everyone must believe all the truths of faith—both those which God Himself has directly revealed, as well as those He has revealed through His Church. Thus, I must believe as much as you and you as much as I, and all other Christians similarly. He who does not believe all these mysteries is not Catholic and therefore will never enter Paradise. Thus, when Our Lord said: Oh woman, how great is your faith, it was not because the Canaanite woman believed more than we believe. It was, rather, that many things made her faith more excellent.

 

It is true that there is only one faith [Eph. 4:5] which all Christians must have. Nevertheless, not everyone has it in the same degree of perfection. To appreciate how the same faith can be more or less excellent, we speak of the conditions which enhance it and of the virtues which accompany it. To make all this clearly understood we must develop it slowly.

 

Faith is the basis and foundation of all the other virtues, but particularly of hope and of charity. Now what I say of charity applies also to all the many virtues associated with it. When charity is united and joined to faith, it vivifies it. And so it follows that there is a dead faith and a dying faith. Dead faith is faith separated from charity, a separation which prevents us from performing works conformable to the faith we profess. This dead faith is that which many Christians – the worldly – have. Indeed, they believe all the mysteries of our holy Religion, but since their faith is not accompanied by charity, they perform no good works which conform to their faith. Dying faith is that which is not entirely separated from charity. It performs some good works, although rarely and feebly, for charity cannot really be in the soul which has faith without performing works either little or great. It must either produce or perish, because it cannot exist with­out doing good works.[2]

 

Just as the soul cannot remain in the body without producing vital actions, so charity cannot be united to our faith without performing works conforming to it [Gal. 5:6; Jas. 2:14-26]. It cannot be otherwise. Therefore, do you want to know if your faith is dead or dying? Examine your works and actions. The same happens with faith as with a person who is about to die. When he suffers a sudden weak spell or it appears he has expired, we place a feather on his lips and our hand on his heart. If the soul is still there, we feel his heart beating. From the movement of the feather over his mouth we see that he is still breathing. From all this we conclude with certainty that although this person may be dying, he is nevertheless not yet dead. Since his vital actions are functioning, the soul must of necessity still be united to his body. But when we notice that he no longer gives signs of life, then we conclude that evidently the soul has separated from the body and therefore this person is dead. Dead faith resembles a dry tree that has no living substance at all. In springtime when other trees bud forth leaves and flowers, this one brings forth nothing, because it does not have sap, which those have that are not dead but only dormant. Now, here is another point. However much all other trees may look like this dead tree in winter, nevertheless, in their season they produce leaves, flowers and fruits. This never happens with the tree that is really dead.[3] It may look like the other trees, to be sure, but it is dead, for it never brings forth either flowers or fruit. Similarly, dead faith may indeed appear to be living faith, but with this important difference: it bears neither the flowers nor the fruit of good works, while living faith always bears them, and in all seasons.

 

It works the same way with faith as with charity. We know by the works which charity performs whether faith is dead or dying. When it produces no good works we conclude that it is dead, and when they are few and sluggish, that it is dying. But just as there is a dead faith, there must also be a living one which is its opposite. It is excellent. Joined and United with charity and vivified by it, it is strong, firm and Constant. It performs many great and good works which deserve the praise: Oh, how great is your faith! Let all that you desire be done.

 

Now when we say that this faith is great, we certainly do not imply that it is something like fourteen or fifteen units long.  We must not understand it that way at all. It is great because of the good works it performs and also because of the many virtues which accompany it, and which it governs, acting like a queen who labours for the defence and preserva­tion of divine truths.[4] That these virtues obey her demonstrates her excellence and greatness—just as kings are not great only when they have many provinces and numerous subjects, but when, together with this, they have subjects who love them and are submissive to them. But if, despite all their wealth, their vassals pay no attention to their orders nor to their laws, we would not say that they are great kings, but rather very petty ones. So charity united to faith is not only followed by all the virtues, but as a queen she com­mands them, and all obey and fight for her and according to her will. From this results the multitude of good works of a living faith.

 

There is a vigilant faith which, again, depends on its union with charity. But there is also one which is sluggish, dull and apathetic, and it is the opposite of vigilant faith. It is lax in applying itself to the consideration of the mysteries of our Religion. It is completely torpid, and for this reason it does not penetrate revealed truths at all. It sees them, to be sure, and knows them, because its eyes are not altogether closed. It is not asleep, but it is drowsy or dozing. It resembles weary people who, although their eyes are open, see almost nothing, and although they hear talking, they neither know nor understand what is said. Why? Because they are quite overcome with sleepiness.

 

Thus, this dormant faith has its eyes open, for it believes the mysteries. It hears sufficiently what has been stated about them. But it is with—how shall I put it—a heaviness and dullness which hinders its understanding of them. Persons who have a dull and dreamy mind have their eyes open, appear very thoughtful and, it seems, attentive, but they are really oblivious to what is going on. It is the same with those whose faith is dormant: they believe all the mysteries in general, but ask them what they understand about them and they know nothing. This dormant faith is in great danger of being attacked and seduced by many enemies and even of falling over dangerous precipices.

 

But vigilant faith not only performs good works like living faith, it also penetrates and understands revealed truths quickly and with great depth and subtlety of perception. It is active and diligent in seeking and embracing those things which can increase and strengthen it. It watches and perceives from afar all its enemies. It is always on the alert to discover the good and to avoid evil. It guards itself against anything which could ruin it. Vigilant, it walks firmly, and easily keeps from falling over precipices.

 

This vigilant faith is accompanied by the four cardinal vir­tues: fortitude, prudence, justice and temperance. It uses them as an armoured breastplate to put its enemies to flight, or to remain among them firm, invincible and unshaken. So great is its strength that it fears nothing, because not only is it strong, but also it is aware of its strength and by whom it is supported—Truth itself. Now there is nothing stronger than truth [3 Esd. 4:35],[5] in which consists the valour of faith.[6] Men indeed have this strength. They have power and mastery over all animals. Yet because we do not always realize that this is in us, we often fear like weaklings and cowards, stupidly taking flight before the beasts. The strength of faith, on the contrary, consists partly in knowing its power. Therefore, it uses it on occasions and puts all its enemies to flight.

 

Faith employs prudence to acquire whatever can strengthen and increase it. It is not satisfied with believing all the truths necessary for salvation as these are revealed by God and made known by the Church. It is ever on the watch to discover new ones and, further, to so penetrate them as to draw from them the pith and substance by which it is supported, delighted, enriched and increased. Now, this prudence is not the same as that of many worldlings, who are very careful to amass wealth and honours and other such rubbish which enrich them and raise them in the eyes of men, but profit them nothing for eternal life. What false prudence that is! Even if it were to help me to gain towns, principalities and kingdoms, what would that profit me if despite all that I am damned? [cf. Matt. 16:26). Of what use will my valour be if I use it only to acquire the transitory things of this mortal life? Certainly, even if I were the strongest and most prudent man in the world, and did not use this valour and prudence for eternal life, it would amount to nothing.

 

Despite that, there is no end to human prudence! It manifests itself in a thousand, thousand ways. And we certainly know that most of our evils come only from this false prudence. But for now let us speak only of that prudence which concerns faith.

 

The majority of Christians have the faith we must have, believing all that we must believe. Few things are really neces­sary for salvation: believe all the mysteries of our Religion and keep the commandments of God [Matt.19:16-17; Mk.16:16; Heb.11:6]. The prudence of worldlings is satisfied with this and wants to do no more than what is absolutely neces­sary for eternal life, and to flee only what can cause their damnation. You do not work for God, then, but only for yourselves in this, since your prudence extends no further than to doing what you know will keep you from being lost. You do not belong to those vigilant servants [Lk.12:37] who always have their eyes on the hands of their masters [Ps.122 (123):2], and who are extremely careful and attentive to do all that they know will render their services more pleasing to Him. By this they show clearly that they are not working for themselves, but rather for the love they have for their Master. They employ all their prudence not only to fulfil their duty towards Him, but also to do all that they discover is pleasing to Him. These are the faithful servants [Matt. 25:21, 23]. Thus, they will have eternal life and, more, great glory and sweetness in the presence and enjoyment of true Divine Majesty.

 

There are many, writes St. Bernard,[7] who say:  "I keep God's commandments." Very well, you will be saved; that is your reward. "I am not a thief." You will not be hanged.  That is your reward.  "I have not committed murder." Yon will not be executed. That is your reward.  "I have dishonoured no one." You will not be dishonoured. That is your reward. "I do what I know is necessary  in order to be saved." Very well, you will have eternal life. That is your reward. But in all this you will be deemed to be only a worthless servant [Matt. 25:30]. Vigilant faith never acts in this way. It serves God not as a mercenary servant, but as a faithful one, employing all its fortitude, prudence, justice and tem­perance to do all that it knows and recognizes to be pleasing to our Lord and Master. It not only observes what is necessary for salvation, but it seeks out, embraces and practises faithfully everything that can bring it closer to its God.

 

To be attentive is the fifth quality of faith. Attentive faith is very great and excellent. In addition to being living and vigilant, it attains the highest point of perfection through this attentiveness. It is this faith that the Canaanite woman had. Let us reflect a bit on how the faith of this woman is great precisely because of its attentiveness.

 

While crossing the district and frontiers of Tyre and Sidon, Our Lord wanted to do so secretly so as not to manifest His glory. He considered retiring into a house so that He might not be seen or noticed. His popularity was increasing daily and He was followed by a great number of people who were attracted by His miracles and wonderful works. Wanting to hide Himself, He entered into one of the nearby houses. But notice this pagan woman standing among His listeners, carefully observing to see when the Saviour, about whom she had heard so many wonderful things, would pass by. She was attentive as a dog carefully watching its prey, lest it escape. It is in this fashion that we can interpret the words of St. Mark the Evangelist [Mk.  7:24-29].

 

When Our Lord passed by, or when He approached, or when He had entered into the house, or again, when He was leaving (this is a debated question, but I do not wish to enter into it here; as for me, I believe that this took place when He was in this house), the Canaanite woman, who had been watching to seize her prey, came to present her request to Him, crying out: Lord, Son of David, have pity on me! My daughter is cruelly troubled by the devil.

 

Reflect a bit on this woman's great faith. She asks our divine Master only that He have pity on her, and believes that if He does have pity, that will be sufficient to cure and deliver her daughter who was troubled by the evil spirit. Her faith would not have been so great had she not been so attentive to what she had heard spoken about Our Lord and to what she had concluded about Him. Those who followed Him or who lived in the houses near the one to which He had retired, had indeed seen and heard about the wonders and miracles He had performed, by which He confirmed the doctrine He taught. They had as much faith as the Canaanite woman, for a great part of them believed what was said of Him. But their faith was not as great as this woman's because it was not as attentive as hers.

 

We normally observe this among the ordinary people of the world. In a gathering where good, holy and lofty subjects are being discussed, an avaricious man will indeed hear what is said, but when it is over just ask him the subject of this conversation, and he will not be able to relate a word of it. Why? Because he was not attentive to what was said, his attention was on his treasure. The same is true of the sensuous, pleasure-loving man. Although he appears to be listening to the topic of conversation, nevertheless he remembers nothing about it because he is more attentive to his pleasure than to what is being discussed. But if someone is there who gives all his attention, and listens to what is said, oh, he indeed will relate very well what he has heard.

 

Why do we see so little profit derived from sermons or from the mysteries that have been explained or taught to us, or from those upon which we have meditated? It is because the faith with which we hear them or meditate upon them is not attentive. And so, we believe them indeed, but not with very great conviction. The faith of the Canaanite woman was not like that at all. Oh woman! How great is your faith not only because of the attentiveness with which you hear and believe what they say of Our Lord, but also because of the attentiveness with which you pray to Him and present your request. There is no doubt at all that the attentiveness which we bring to our understanding of the mysteries of our Religion and that with which we meditate on and contemplate them renders our faith greater.

 

But what is prayer and meditation? It seems that these words have come from another planet since so few people want to understand them. What is meditation or contemplation? In a word, it is prayer. To make prayer is to pray. To pray with attention is to have a lively, vigilant, attentive faith like the Canaanite woman. This faith or attentive prayer is followed and accompanied by a great variety of other virtues described in Holy Scripture. But because they are innumerable I will be satisfied with touching on those which are more proper for you and which especially shone forth in the prayer of the Canaanite woman. Now, the particular virtues with which this woman accompanied her request were four: confidence, perseverance, patience and humility. About each of these I will say but a word, for I do not want to be too long.

 

She had confidence, which is one of the principal conditions that make our prayer great before God. "Lord," said this woman, "have pity on me. My daughter is greatly tormented by the devil." (In Latin this phrase means "sorely tried.") It is as if she meant to say: "This evil spirit torments her cruelly and excessively, and because of that, have pity on me." What great confidence! She believes that if the Lord has pity on her, her daughter will be cured. She doubts neither His power nor His will, for she cries out only: "Have pity on me!" I know that by this she meant: "You are so gentle and kind to everyone that I have no doubt that, begging You to have pity on me, You will do so, and as soon You do, my daughter will be cured."

 

Certainly the greatest defect we have in our prayers and in all that happens to us, particularly in that which concerns tribulations, is our lack of confidence. Because of that lack we do not deserve to receive the help we desire and ask for.  Now, such confidence always accompanies attentive faith, which is great or little according to the measure of our confidence. When St. Peter and the other Apostles were in the boat with their Lord, and noticed the storm come up, they became frightened and called upon His assistance. In that they did well, for it is to Him we should have recourse and from Him we should expect all our help. But when they saw the waves swelling higher and higher and their good Mas­ter still asleep, they became very excited and cried out, Lord save us! We are perishing! The Saviour reproved them, saying, "You men of little faith"[8] [Matt. 8:24-26]. By this He meant, "How little your faith is, since on this occasion when you ought to show it all the more, you lack confidence. Since your confidence is little, so also is your faith."

 

But the Canaanite woman had great confidence when she made her prayer—indeed, even amidst squalls and tempests, which were not capable of shaking that confidence in the least. For she accompanied it with perseverance, continuing to cry out resolutely, "Lord, Son of David, have pity on me!" Did she say nothing else? No, she had no other words on her lips but these, and she persevered in using them during the whole time that she kept crying out after Our Lord. How great a virtue is this perseverance! If you had asked that good religious, the gardener of St. Pachomius, if he had done noth­ing else but make mats and work in the garden, he would have replied, "Nothing else." This was his occupation from his entrance into the monastery, and he did not expect to have any other charge for the rest of his life.[9] What perseverance he had!

 

However, when I speak of perseverance I do not intend to treat of that final perseverance needed to be saved, but only of that which should accompany our prayer. How few people there are who really understand in what it consists! We see young girls who are only beginners in devotion (and young men as well, but we are not speaking of them here; we are speaking now only of girls, since it is to them that I address myself). We see some, then, who are only beginning to pray and to follow Our Lord, and who yet already ask for and desire delights and consolations. They cannot persevere in prayer, except by dint of sweetness and delight. If they experience some distaste in prayer, or if God withdraws or takes away the sweetness or usual facility that they have had in it, they complain and are afflicted. They say: "The fact is I am not humble, God is not the least bit interested in hearing me, He does not look at me, for He regards only saints, and what do I know!" They entertain other such nonsense and a thousand thoughts, abandoning themselves to anxiety and discouragement.

 

We grow weary of praying with this dryness and dejection of heart. And what do we want? Ecstasies, ravishments, sweetness and consolations. If God does not give us promptly what we ask, or does not indicate that He hears us, we lose courage, we cannot persevere in prayer, we quit it completely, then and there.

 

The Canaanite woman did not act in this way. For although she saw that Our Lord was paying no attention to her prayer, since He gave her no word of response and seemed in this to do her an injustice, nevertheless, this woman persevered in crying out after Him—so much that the Apostles were constrained to tell Him that He should dismiss her because she did nothing but cry out after them. Because of this, some are of the opinion that since our Saviour gave her no word of response, she addressed herself to the Apostles, asking them to intercede for her. This is why they said: "She keeps crying out after us." Others believe that she did not ask them, but that she continued to cry out to Our Lord. But I do not wish to delay here. As for myself, I hold this latter opinion, that when the Apostles said, "Lord, get rid of her," or rather, "Send this woman away, for she keeps crying out after us," they meant "after You," for she was crying out to them when she cried out to their Master.

 

Nevertheless, although Our Lord turned a deaf ear to all that, she did not fail to continue her usual prayer. In this she allowed her perseverance, for it is no little virtue to persevere in always praying one same prayer and performing the same exercises. And what prayer shall we always say? Our Lord dictated it with His own mouth [Matt.6:9-13; Lk.11:2-4]. Say, "Our Father, who art in Heaven." Shall we pray it every day, praying no other? No, I do not say that, but God has not enjoined any other on you. I know well that it is not wrong to diversify our prayers and meditations, for the Church herself teaches us this in the variety of her Offices. But over and above these prayers you will say one every day, which must be recited not only after Lauds, Prime and Vespers, but many times a day. And what will it be? "Our Father, who art in Heaven." Oh, how happy we will be if we accompany that prayer with perseverance. When we have repugnance and dryness in it, when the sweetness of prayer is taken away from us, we should persevere in praying without growing weary, neither complaining nor seeking to be delivered from it, contenting ourselves in all that with crying out unceasingly: Lord, Son of David, have pity on me!

 

Someplace in the writings of Cicero, I do not know just where, he says in the form of a proverb that there is nothing that wearies a traveller so much as a long road when it is flat or a short one when it is rugged and hilly. (I do not recall his exact words.) He adds many other things, but this is what he meant: perseverance is very difficult. Although the traveller walks along a beautiful, level road, nevertheless, its length wearies him. When he sees night coming on, he is troubled and disturbed. In a word, he would certainly have found more pleasure had this road offered the diversion of valleys and hills. In the same way, a rugged and hilly road, even if short, wearies and tires the pilgrim, since he is always doing the same thing. But it is short. No matter, he would prefer that it were longer, but going through a plain or valley.

 

What is this but the caprices of the human spirit, which has no perseverance whatsoever in what it undertakes? That is why worldlings who live according to their whims know so well how to diversify the seasons with their pastimes and recreations.  They do not always play the same game, but several, otherwise they would soon weary of them.  Just now, at Carnival time, they have ballets, dances, and masks.  In short, they spend the seasons in a variety of amusements which are nothing but the whims and caprices of the human spirit.

 

This is why perseverance in always doing the same thing in religion[10] is a martyrdom, and may well be considered so. It is true that it is called a paradise by those who understand it well. But it can also be called a martyrdom, for the fancies of the human spirit and all self-will are continually martyred there. I ask you, is it not a martyrdom always to be dressed in the same fashion without having the freedom to dress up and fashion one's clothes as worldlings do? Is it not a martyrdom always to eat at the same time and almost the same kind of food?

 

Is it not great perseverance for peasants, who ordinarily have only bread, water and cheese for their nourishment? Nevertheless, they do not die any sooner but rather are in better health than the fastidious, for whom one does not know what food is right. They need so many cooks, so many different kinds of preparations! Then, present it to them and see what happens:  "Oh," they say,  "take that away from me, It is not good"; or "That will make me ill," and suchlike nonsense. But in religion we do not make use of such artifice. We eat what is given us! And this is a martyrdom, as is the constant following of the same exercises.

 

Let us persevere in prayer at all times. For if Our Lord wins not to hear us, it is not because He wants to refuse us. Rather, His purpose is to compel us to cry out louder and to make us more conscious of the greatness of His mercy. Those who understand the hunt know well that in winter, dogs cannot scent their prey. The cold air and frost prevent them from detecting their prey as easily as they do at other times. A similar thing happens in the spring. The variety and fragrance of the flowers takes away the facility of perceiving the animal's scent.[11] To remedy this the hunter puts some vinegar in his mouth, and holding the dog's head, squirts the vinegar into its nose. Now he does this not to discourage it from going in quest of its prey, but rather to urge and excite it to do its task. In the same way, when Our Lord deprives us of sweetness and consolation, it is not to refuse us or to make us lose courage, but He casts vinegar into our mouth in order to excite us to draw so much closer to His divine Goodness, and to encourage us in perseverance.

 

It is also to elicit proofs of our patience. This was the third virtue which accompanied the Canaanite woman's prayer. Seeing her perseverance, the Saviour desired to prove her patience, too. By this virtue we maintain, as far as possible, equality of mind among the inequalities of this life. That is why He responded to His Apostles, who begged Him to send her away, with a word which stung her deeply and which must have discouraged her greatly. It is not reasonable, He said, that I should take the bread of the children to give it to the dogs. I have not come for all stray sheep, but to find the lost sheep of the house of My Father.

 

"Ah, then, Lord, is this sheep not of Your Father's house? Will she be lost? Did You not come for everyone, for the Jewish people and for the Gentiles?" It is most clear that Our Lord came for everyone. This is very plain in Holy Scripture. But when He said, "I have not come for all stray sheep, but only for the lost sheep of My Father's house," He wished it to be understood that He was promised only to the Jews, who were called children of God, that is, that it had been foretold that He would come to Israel and walk with His own feet among this people, teach them by His own mouth, cure their sick with His own hands, perform miracles in His own person [Is. 40:1-2, 10-11; 61:1; Lk. 4:18-21]. Therefore He must not take away the bread of the children of God, that is, of the Jewish people, and throw it to the dogs, or the Gentile people, a nation that did not know Him. It is as if Jesus Christ meant to say: The favours that I give to the Gentiles, for whom I have not been sent, are so small and so few in number in comparison with those that I bestow on the Israelites, that these latter have no reason to be jealous about it.

 

How then are we to understand that Our Lord came for the Gentiles as well as for the Jews? It is like this. Just as He had come to walk on His own feet among the children of Israel, He will walk among the Gentiles on the feet of His Apostles. He will cure their sick, not with His own hands, but through those of the Apostles. He will preach His doctrine to them, but through the mouth of His Apostles. He will recover their lost sheep, but by means of the labour of His Apostles. This is why He spoke to the Canaanite woman words which seem so rude and cutting, savouring so much of contempt and disdain for this poor pagan woman. Indeed, we ordinarily observe that nothing offends so much as cutting words spoken with contempt for those to whom we speak, particularly if they are spoken by persons of distinction and authority. We have seen men die of sorrow and grief because contemptuous words were spoken to them by their princes, even though they may have been said through the impulse or surprise of some passion. When this woman heard Our Lord, she did not lose patience at all. Neither was she offended nor saddened. Prostrating herself at His feet, she replied, "It is true. I am a dog, I admit it. But I take You at Your word, for the dogs follow their masters and feed on the crumbs that fall under their table."

 

This humility was the fourth virtue that accompanied the faith and prayer of the Canaanite woman—a humility so pleasing to the Saviour that He granted her all that she asked of Him, saying, Oh woman! how great is your faith. Be it done as you desire. Certainly all virtues are very dear to God, but humility pleases Him above all the others, and it seems that He can refuse it nothing.   Now, this woman manifested the greatness of her humility in acknowledging that she was a dog, and that, as a dog, she did not ask the favours reserved for Jews, who were the children of God, but only that she might gather the crumbs that fell under the table. There are many people who insist that they are nothing, that they are only vileness, misery and suchlike things (the world is full of this kind of humility); but they cannot bear to have another tell them that they are worth nothing, that they are fools, and similar contemptuous words. They will avow it as much as they wish, but you beware of saying it to them, for they will be offended.[12] I will add this further word in passing, since it comes to my mind. Confessors would be very happy if they could always bring their penitents to confess that they are sinners. But no! Let them show them their faults; let them try to make them admit that they are wrong! Most often they neither wish to admit it nor can they believe it. As for our Canaanite woman, not only was she not offended at hearing herself called a dog, but she believed it, confessed it and asked only for what belonged to dogs. In this she manifested admirable humility which merited to be praised by the mouth of Our Lord—which He did, saying: Oh, woman, how great is your faith! Be it done as you desire. And in praising her faith He praised all the other virtues which accompanied it.

 

Courage then! Let us rouse our faith again, and give it life through charity, and the practices and good works performed in charity. Let us watch carefully to preserve it and increase it, both by the attentive consideration of the mysteries that it teaches us and by the exercise of the virtues about which we have spoken, particularly humility, by which the Canaanite woman obtained all that she desired. Let us imitate this woman as she persevered in crying out after our Saviour and Master: Lord, Son of David, have pity on me! He will say to us at the end of our days: Be it done as you desire; and because of what you have done, come, enjoy eternity.

 

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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[1] Cf. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 1, chapter 1; Book 2, chapter 14; Book 7, chapter 5.

[2] Cf. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 4, chapter 2; Book 11, chapter 5, near the beginning. Being so close to the Protestant Reformation and its understanding of justification by faith alone, St. Francis de Sales is careful to stress the Catholic view of faith informed by charity as found in the letter of James [Jas. 2:14-15) and in the teachings of the Council of Trent.

[3] Cf. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 11, chapter 12.

[4] Cf. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 2, chapter 14; Book 8, chapter 6; Book 11, chapter 5 and chapter 9.

[5] In the Septuagint the two canonical books Esdras and Nehemias were united to form one called Esdras B (i.e., Second) and were placed immediately after the apocryphal book called Esdras A (i.e., First). (Cath­olic Biblical Encyclopedia, by Steinmuller & Sullivan). 1 Esdras: In the Septuagint this book is called 3 Esdras (or by modern scholars, "the Greek Ezra"), but it is placed before the other two. 3 Esdras 4:35: So truth is great, and mightier than all other things. (The Apocrypha, Am. translation by Edgar J. Goodspeed, Vintage Books).

[6] Cf. Sermon for the First Sunday of Lent.

[7] Cf. The Spiritual Conferences of St. Francis de Sales, Conference XI, "The Virtue of Obedience”.

[8] Cf. Sermon for the First Sunday of Lent.

[9] Cf. Spiritual Conferences, X, "On Obedience"; XI, "The Virtue of Obedience”.

[10] That is, the religious life, in which one takes the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience.

[11] Cf. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 12, chapter 3.

[12] Cf. Introduction to the Devout Life, Part 3, chapter 5.

 

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