19 September 1985
Lima, Peru

My dear Confreres and Sisters,

When I was a boy growing up, there was a man in our neighborhood who, when he wanted to describe a house where he felt he was not welcomed, would say: "I was served with a marble heart and cold shoulder." It was an apparent allusion to an item on the food menu, but what he was really saying was that the people were cold and inhospitable.

I thought of this little phrase when reflecting on the Gospel to which we have just listened. Our Lord was certainly served with a marble heart and cold shoulder. It is hard to judge exactly the intentions of Simon, the Pharisee. Perhaps he was a collector of celebrities and with a half-patronizing contempt had invited the young Galilean to have a meal with him. There is a strange combination of a certain respect with the omission of the courtesies which the occasion demanded. Silence is golden, and Our Lord seemingly made no comment on the chilly reception for a time. Then, when this woman, who was seemingly a prostitute in the locality, came and began to treat Our Lord with great respect, He used the occasion to speak gently and kindly to Simon. "Simon, I have something to say to you. And Simon answered, `Master, say it.'" (Lk 7:40).

I have often asked myself, did it cost Simon a good deal to say those words? Had he any fear that Jesus would say something disagreeable and hurtful to his pride, or ask of him some heroic sacrifice? The truth is often bitter and it takes courage to listen to it. At the end of a day it is good to allow Our Lord to say those words to us: "I have something to say to you," and to add immediately, "Master, say it." When we allow those words to sink deeply into our minds, it is not to torture our consciences. It important to be simple and sincere with God and important to ask God to be simple and sincere with us. Perhaps that strikes you as rather strange, for God is by His very nature simple and sincere. He is, but often He cannot get through to us or often we do not allow Him to be simple and sincere with us. Perhaps we are like Simon at the beginning of the meal. Our Lord saw clearly that Simon was omitting the elementary courtesies which were due to a guest, but He said nothing. Possibly He felt that He would not get through to Simon, or that Simon was not strong enough at that particular moment to perceive a simple and sincere observation of Christ about his lack of courtesy. So, often in prayer, sit still and allow Christ to say gently to you: "I have something to say to you." When we have listened to Him for a little while, ask Him for the grace to say from your heart: "Master, say it." If we did this more often, perhaps we would find that He would ask us to give up something, some practice, some pleasure, something we may be clinging to as our very life. He may be wanting to say to us that we do not deny ourselves, that we do not take up our cross, that we do not follow Him. We can trust Him, for if He asks anything, He will help us to do it.

When reflecting on this incident in the life of Our Lord, I have often thought that Simon was probably a smug and self-sufficient man. For that reason he had little time for the poor woman who came to show her respect and reverence for Our Lord. Self-sufficiency and smugness, or pride, fill our hearts in such a way that we have no room for Christ or His poor. Perhaps that accounts for the importance which St. Vincent gave to the two virtues of humility and detachment. Humility has a way of emptying our hearts of ourselves and of exaggerated ideas about our worth. Detachment will empty our hearts of the desire for material things and inordinate pleasures. If we are to love Our Lord, if we are to make room in our hearts and in our minds for Him, then we must ask Him for the grace of humility and detachment of heart. If we are to make room for the poor, if they are to feel at home with us, as the poor woman did with Christ, then we must first ask for the grace of humility and detachment of heart.

What a happiness, exclaimed St. Vincent one day to the Sisters, to seek nothing but to please God, to despise all the comforts that one might have, and to look upon all that savors of this world as nothing, for that is what Daughters of Charity do. Continue then, Sisters, and act in such a way that your Company may ever go on increasing and becoming more and more perfect in the grace of God, and that it may render more and more services to Our Lord by the observance of Rule.... Mark, if you do so, there is nothing else needed to make you saints. I told you before that Pope Clement VIII asked for nothing but that to canonize a person. (Conf. Eng. ed., 9 Dec. 1657, pp. 988-989).