Tim Williams

Imitation, it is said, is the sincerest form of flattery – a distinction that must be made, because flattery is by its nature insincere. We flatter in order to gain something for ourselves by playing upon another’s vanity. The things we say when flattering might or might not be true, but that isn’t really the point.

By imitation, though, our praise is expressed with a concrete action; we show through imitation that it is the very habits or actions of another that will lead us to the thing we seek to gain. Think, for example, of children learning to play a sport well by trying to imitate the professional athletes they admire.

For Vincentians, what better way could we find to follow Christ’s call to be perfect, just as our heavenly Father is perfect, than to imitate Christ? This, after all, was the very basis of the Society’s founding – to go to the poor, just as Christ Himself had done; to show God’s compassion and love through our actions. In Aristotelian terms, we “become builders by building”. [Nicomachean Ethics, Book II:1]

Christ, then, is not an object of flattery, but is instead our ultimate role model. He is the God who shared our humanity so that He could “fully reveal man to himself.” [Redemptor Hominis, 8] Yet our humility can cause us to shy away from imitating Christ, seeking instead role models closer to our personal experience. In a similar way, that child athlete, however ambitious, will usually try first to imitate an older friend before swinging for the big leagues. For us, our “older friends” include especially the saints and blessed of the Vincentian Family.

In 1838, one of the first Conferences had been studying The Imitation of Christ, but then began reading The Life of St. Vincent de Paul. As Frédéric explained it, our patron “is a model one must strive to imitate, as he himself imitated the model of Jesus Christ.” [Letter 175, to Lallier, 1838] In our day, we also have the holy life of Blessed Frédéric to imitate. Perhaps, as a lay Catholic, he is even closer to us.

The Little Leaguer believes that if he can swing the bat like Ken Griffey, Jr., then he might become a great player on his own. For Vincentians, imitation has a deeper goal, an interior goal. We hope that someday it will be no longer we who love, but Christ who loves through us. [Rule, Part I, 2.1]

We seek, then, not simply to behave like Christ, but “to empty ourselves of self so that God alone may be manifest”. [CCD XII, 247]

Our imitation, it turns out, is not flattery at all. Flattery will get us nowhere. Imitation of Christ will lead us home.

Contemplate

In what way can I better imitate the life of Blessed Frédéric Ozanam?

Recommended Reading

Apostle in a Top Hat

In the Parable of the Good Samaritan, Christ tells of a man who stopped to care for a victim of a robbery who had been left naked and dying by the side of the road. Others had passed by, averting their eyes. Who, Christ asks us, was neighbor to the robbers’ victim? The one who showed mercy.

This parable is a Vincentian favorite as we seek to “go and do likewise”, to form mutual relationships “based on trust and friendship.” [Rule, Part I, 1.9] But if we are the Samaritans, the neighbors, who are the robbers’ victims?

The Samaritan had no helpline; he was, as far as we know, minding his own business on his journey. There was nobody else around but the man lying in the ditch, and he could have kept walking as others had. Unconscious, the victim did not cry out for help. Called only by his own conscience and his own mercy, he stopped and gave his time, his possessions, and himself. [Rule, Part I, 2.5.1]

As Vincentians, though, are we not called to do even more than the Samaritan? Our Rule, after all, says that we are “to seek out and find those in need and the forgotten…” [Rule, Part I, 1.5] Are “the forgotten” the robbers’ victims? How do we find them?

Bl. Frédéric believed that the victims of his time were the people who had been robbed of “the treasure of faith and love” and left so badly wounded that even the priests who stopped to help were turned away by the victims who could no longer recognize them. Frederic believed that we “weak Samaritans” might be able to soothe and comfort them, to welcome them into community, and to reassure them of “the hope of a better world”. [Letter 90, to Curnier, 1835]

Who are the robbers’ victims in our world? Who do we pass by, from whom do we shift our gaze, at whom do we look without touching? [Fratelli tutti, 76] It is easy to answer the phone, or to send a check – to solve a math problem. And while indeed we should never neglect to care for the necessities of the body, anybody can do those things.

It is only on our home visits, face to face, person to person, that we can truly discover those left on the side of the road, forgotten. It is by setting aside our own plans, and needs, and desires, that we reassure them that they are important. Through our loving presence we show them that God has not abandoned them.

Our visit is proof that even on the side of the road, beaten down, with the world passing by, God sees them. He cares for them, He loves them, and He awaits them.

Contemplate

Am I truly giving myself to the neighbor in need?

Recommended Reading

A Heart on Fire

All of us have had many friends in our lives: childhood friends, work friends, teammates, Army buddies, fishing buddies, maybe you even have a “BFF.” Still, when we hear the word “friend” one or maybe a few come to mind first.

Often, we become much closer to people when we have a shared experience. From the examples above, the friends you sweated with on the practice field become much closer friends. Talking, or writing, to each other draws us closer. We share little pieces of ourselves – we give to each other.

So why do some friends stand out? Is it the friend who really bailed you out of jam? The one who stood by you when nobody else did?

Christ, after all, tells us that there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for your friends – the very gift he gave to us! “Can we have a better friend than God!” said St. Vincent, and consequently, “Must we not love all that He loves and, for love of Him, consider our neighbor as our friend!” [CCD XI:39]

Friends help us, friends give to us, but (short of giving their lives) what are the greatest gifts they can give? We might remember that friend who got out of bed in the middle of a rainy night to come drive us home when we got stranded, but have you stopped to consider that the reason he did so was not that you were stranded. After all, how would he have known?

The reason your friend helped you is that you asked. The reason you asked, is that you knew only a friend would help. Bl. Rosalie once responded to a request for a favor by saying “I cannot tell you how you please me in giving me the opportunity to do something for your interests. Always act this way with me, without any hesitation. It is the proof of friendship that I hope for.” [Sullivan, 237]

The greatest favor we offer our friends is to ask for their help. In his will, written on his 40^th birthday, Blessed Frédéric asked of the Society for the greatest of help: their prayers. “If I am assured of these prayers, I quit this earth with less fear. I hope firmly that we are not being separated, and that I may remain with you until you will come to me.” [Baunard, 386]

“The entire Society,” the Rule tells us, “is a true and unique worldwide Community of Vincentian friends.” [Rule, Part I, 3.3] And this community extends to the neighbors we serve; the ones who offer us proof of friendship: they ask for our help.

Contemplate

How can I be a better friend?

Recommended Reading

Book of Prayers by Frédéric Ozanam

There is an old saying, perhaps originating with the Greek philosopher Heraclitus, that we should “expect the unexpected.” Practicing what St. Vincent termed holy indifference, we instead are reminded to accept the unexpected.

This word Vincent used, indifference, carries with it a connotation of apathy, or lack of interest. Certainly, our patron was not calling us to apathy! Rather, he taught that we must be willing, at all times, to accept what God gives to us, without anticipating, or running ahead of His providence.

It is difficult for our human nature to concede a lack of control. It is perhaps especially difficult for Vincentians, who seek to love God “with the strength of our arms.” We want to plan things out, to set measurable outcomes that we can use to gauge our success. These are wonderful instincts, and perfectly fitting in the context of things like business or fitness goals, whose nature is thoroughly worldly.

But God’s work is not a business plan. It is through holy indifference that we let go of the goals that are driven by our own desires so that we may accept and serve only what God wills. As always, Christ gives us the model to follow, praying to be spared His crucifixion, saying “not my will but yours be done.”

This is not to say that we should make no plans! Indeed, it was Vincent who pointed out that the people of Châtillon were “practicing great charity, but it is not well organized.” [CCD XII:383] We organize and plan to do good as God wills, but the outcome is simply not up to us. If it were, then the cloth Veronica offered to Christ would surely have spared Him the cross.

“Planning is good,” St. Vincent said, “when it is submissive to God, but it goes to excess when we are eager to avoid whatever we fear; when we trust more in our precautions than in God’s Providence.”

Our planning goes to excess, he went on, “when we hope to accomplish much while anticipating His orders with our disorder which causes us to adhere to human prudence rather than the Word of God.” [Gettemeier, L, DC, VHJ, Vol. 19]

How many times have we seen in retrospect that what we thought was bad led to a greater good? We are indifferent when God’s will becomes our own, when we accept both good and bad, when we serve for love alone. Although “nature grumbles against it”,[CCD I:212] indifference is “the state of the angels” who are “always ready to do the Will of God, either in heaven or on earth”. [CCD X:564]

Contemplate

Do I seek my own goals, or God’s?

Recommended Reading

Vincentian Meditations (especially Putting Out into the Deep)

In describing the Vincentian Vocation, our Rule says that our “ideal is to help relieve suffering for love alone.” [Rule, Part I, 2.2] Many, if not most Vincentians are first drawn to the Society by the desire to do something; to love God, as St Vincent put it, “with the strength of our arms and the sweat of our brows.”[CCD XI:32]

Relieving suffering, we think, is an end in itself; to serve those in need without discrimination or judgment; to give of our time, our possessions, our talents, and ourselves. So, what does it mean to do all this for love alone?

St. Paul teaches that of the three theological virtues – faith, hope, and love – the greatest of these is love. So that, even as the Letter of James asks us not to “forget the necessities of the body” because “faith without works is dead,” Paul declares that even “if I have faith enough to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own … but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

The apostle here strips away nearly everything but love.

It’s important to understand that in the Greek, the scriptures use several different words for love. The one Paul uses here is agape – the love of God. This love is not an emotion; it’s an act of will. Of putting the needs of another before our own. Agape sometimes also translated as “charity.”

Bl. Frederic once contrasted philanthropy (simply giving away our possessions) with charity saying: “Philanthropy is a vain woman for whom good actions are a piece of jewelry and who loves to look at herself in the mirror. Charity is a tender mother who keeps her eyes fixed on the infant she carries at her breast, who no longer thinks of herself, and who forgets her beauty for her love.“ [90, to Curnier, 1835] What purer image of charity could there be than the self-giving love of a mother?

Our catechism defines charity as “the theological virtue by which we love God above all things for his sake alone, and our neighbor as ourselves, for the love of God.”

As it happens, Jesus once said something quite similar. We call it the greatest commandment, so it should be no surprise that Vincentians are called to live that commandment.

If we seek to relieve physical suffering alone, or, as Frederic put it, we “appeal to men from below, taking heed of their material wants only,” we will often be disappointed; we will often come up short. But the love of God is in endless supply, and as St. Paul assures us: love never fails.

Contemplate

How can I grow closer to the ideal of serving for love alone?

Recommended Reading

Turn Everything to Love