KINDNESS IN SPEECH
All souls dear to God, and should therefore be dear to us—The love of our neighbour must be a true, interior affection and concern for them, for God's sake—To injure or wound our neighbour by words is to wound (as far as in us lies) our Heavenly Father Himself—Calumny a manifestation of that widespread pagan selfishness which it is the office of the Gospel to repress—Wrong to mention without justification even true stories against our neighbour.
AMONG the causes which seem to hinder the blessing of God from resting upon us in our endeavours to spread our holy Faith, it is certain that not the least important is the neglect of the virtue of Charity in our intercourse with one another. What is here meant is especially Charity in speech. Kindness in act is not wanting. The poor are often in our thoughts, and the children of the poor are not altogether neglected. It is true that in regard to the spiritual needs of the poor—that is, in regard to orphanages, industrial schools and homes which are intended to save the faith of Catholic children—less interest is taken and fewer sacrifices are made than the pastors of souls could wish. But there is amongst us a much worse sin than stinginess and love of money. It is the universal prevalence of uncharitable speech. It is this which prevents the rains from falling and which makes the heavens as of brass over our heads. It is this which strikes with barrenness our prayers and our sacrifices, the labours of the laity and the very sermons and masses of the priesthood itself.
If there is any rule of God's dealings with us which is absolutely certain and invariable, it is the rule that He treats us as we treat our fellow-creatures. We must remember that every man and woman in the world is as dear to God as we are ourselves. Each of their immortal souls is created by the special and direct act of His omnipotence. Each soul is intended for the bliss of the Beatific Vision. It was to seek and save each soul in particular that He came down from heaven and shed His most sacred Blood upon the Cross. The Holy Spirit Who now fills the whole earth loves all, visits all, and is jealous for all. It is but too true that from innumerable souls He is shut out by wilful sin. But no man is lost till he is judged. If the souls of the just and the innocent are the temples of the Holy Spirit, yet even the sinner is the object of His longings, His watchings, and His providence.
It follows from this that every human soul is the concern of each of us. For he who loves God will try to promote the designs of God and to forward the purposes of God. Therefore our neighbour is really in the place of God to each of us. And this is what our Blessed Saviour so constantly teaches.
Therefore to try to save souls, to rescue souls from temptation and danger, to bring souls to grace, to faith, to sacraments, is a duty which presses upon us, simply because we can only save our own souls by loving God above all things; and the love of God above all things without the love of one's neighbour is a mere pretence and mockery.
But let it be observed that it is not enough to help and assist other men and women, by work and by word. God's most holy command—a command that rests, as we have said, on the grand and solemn truths of creation and redemption—is not a command which is fulfilled by trying to save our neighbour's soul, or to feed and warm his body. It is a command which, like every one of Almighty God's precepts, requires to be taken into our own hearts and bosoms. There are those who help the poor, and yet have no love for the poor. There are those who will send their subscriptions for them, but cannot bear to come near them. Some of us have generosity but no personal patience. Too many of us try to compound with our conscience by doing something for the destitute and the ignorant, whilst scarcely taking the trouble to conceal our disgust with every-thing in the shape of poverty, misery, sickness and ignorance. In the phrase of Holy Scripture, we gather our skirts about us and pass by. And even if we are far removed from a spirit like this, yet it is possible that we may never be penetrated with that divine tenderness and compassion for our brethren whom God has made which was the spirit of Christ Jesus. For there is no such thing as genuine virtue unless our very mind and heart are filled with it and transformed by it. The love of our neighbour, though it is God's command, and our neighbour's advantage, is more than anything our own personal sanctification. We are intended to love our neighbour, because it is for us a good thing to love him. To sympathise with other men is to draw ourselves out from our selfishness. It is to shake off that worship of self, that concentration on self, which is more deadly than rapine or riot. It is to break up the hard surface of our fallen and spoiled nature, and to set free those softer qualities of mercy and tenderness, of compassion and solicitude, which are the best preparation for the love of God above all things. It is to make sure that when we say we love God we are honest and sincere; for there are many subtle sentiments in a man's heart which can masquerade as the love of God, when all the time they are only self in disguise; but a man can hardly make a mistake as to whether or not he loves his neighbour.
Thus, as the waters of the ocean by their ceaseless motion and commingling are kept for ever fresh and pure, so the hearts of men, one in race, one in family, one in destiny, are meant to live each in every other heart, that all the world may be healthful and sound, and as happy as a transitory world may be.
All men, then, are bound to love one another with a true and interior affection. This leads us to our present subject—the uncharitableness of unkind words. For it is precisely because we have no real love of one another that we are so reckless in what we say about those around us. No man speaks unfeelingly about those who are dear to him. Think how sensitive we are to unkind attacks or observations on the members of our own family; how we resent a sneer or an accusation that is directed against wife or child, father or mother, brother or sister. Were all God's children truly our brothers and sisters in affection, we should shrink from wounding their feelings or their reputation by our own unconsidered words. If we could put ourselves in the place of our Heavenly Father, we should dread to say a word against those who are so dear to him. For it is He who is jealous for all the souls He has created. It is He whom we touch when we aim at men and women. To Him they are dear; they lie close to His heart; their honour is His, their injury is His concern. And it is no wonder if God with-holds His grace from those who think so little of is glory and His interests.
Every Catholic is taught in his childhood that to blacken a neighbour's character is called Detraction; and that Detraction, if it is a lie as well, is called by the ugly name of Calumny. Now both simple De-traction, and the fouler species of Detraction which we call Calumny, are in themselves deadly sins. That is, it is only when circumstances reduce the injury done to small and insignificant proportions that the detractor escapes the guilt of damnation. For if theft is a mortal sin, Detraction is as bad, or worse. To steal a man's money is not so bad as to stab his honour or his character. " Better is a good name," says the Book of Proverbs, " than great riches " (Proverbs xxii. I). Every man has a right to his reputation. He who spreads lies or makes known discreditable things is both unjust and uncharitable; he takes away what is another's, and he injures the brother whom he is bound to love.
It would be a happy thing if the black vice of Calumny were less common than it is. But it cannot be denied that there are men, and women too, so dead to the thought of their Creator and their Judge as to deliberately invent abominable stories about other people. Nay, there are some who will go into a court of justice and swear to such stories, thus adding Perjury to their guilt. These crying sins of calumny and perjury, which strike at the foundations of all social intercourse, and which tend to make every man afraid of his neighbour, are the darker manifestations of an evil spirit which lurks in the heart of even the best of us; a spirit which finds a malignant joy in the troubles and ill luck of other people. It is a spirit which may be fought against and may be over-come, by the grace of God, and the sacraments and the imitation of Jesus Christ. But every man must reckon with it; and the heart in which it is allowed to grow and strengthen itself, in company with other evil passions of fallen nature, is a heart in which the love of God cannot find a foothold. Can we say, from our knowledge of ourselves and of the atmosphere in which we live, that even Christians seriously strive to keep down this spirit of malevolence? The phrases of modern life and intercourse are studiously decorous, and men are accustomed to show much cordiality in public. But can any one doubt that there is in the hearts of the people amongst whom we live a widespread pagan selfishness which may seem to sleep, but is ever ready to wake up. If not, why is there that recklessness in repeating discreditable stories—that eagerness to retail damaging information —that pleasure in pulling to pieces a neighbour's character behind his back? In many cases, as much harm is done by spreading hearsay stories as by the downright invention of lies—and the breach of charity is often as grievous. Yet this is a matter to which even good people give too little consideration. Nothing will enable us to amend in this except the thought that the men and women we treat with such cold and callous unkindness arc those of whom Christ has said, As long as you did it to one of these little ones, you did it to Me !
It must never be forgotten that it is forbidden by the law of God to mention, without necessity or justification, even true stories against our neighbour. Doubtless there are cases in which either lawful authority may compel us, or self-protection may allow us, to speak evil of others, provided that what we say is true. Otherwise, to make known even real discreditable facts and actual occurrences is a sin not only against charity, but against justice, and (unless the damage done is really slight) it is a grievous and deadly sin. Let those who are careless in their talk look anxiously into this. Is it not too true that most of us consider our neighbours' faults and misfortunes common property? Does not that evil spirit, which was spoken of just now, seize with delight on an uncharitable story and start it on its travels with the keenest relish? Is not our kindliness towards our fellow-creatures so very weak that even for the pleasure of telling a piece of news we wreck his reputation? The detractor is ready with excuses. He will tell you that he cannot bear to see wrong things going on, and that he speaks because he wants them put right. But, if this be so, why does he not speak in the right quarter? To denounce a man before a miscellaneous company—at table, during moments of idle recreation, at a street corner, at the door, at chance meetings, to any one we meet—how can this correct him or benefit the world at large? People do this—but let them understand that they do it, not from righteous zeal, but from the itch of malignant gossip. They will tell you that their gossip does no harm. Let us admit that the guilt of the sin of de-traction depends very considerably on the harm that is done. But it must be always carefully borne in mind that, in sins of this kind, the harm that is done is not measured solely by money values, but by reputation. To take a man's bread out of his mouth by telling tales against him would be very hard; but it would also be very bad and very sinful, if all the harm the stories did was to make his friends think him a scoundrel or a fool. And there are professions and states of life where a man's efficiency depends completely on his reputation. Yet even good people will be found to be in the habit of passing on stories, almost invariably exaggerated and founded on loose gossip, about priests, and about men whose employments are confidential and delicate, for which, if there be any truth in God's word, they will have to answer in the judgment.
It need not be insisted that all unkind speaking comes from deliberate malignity. The malignity does lurk and crawl in the dark recesses of our nature, ready to bite and kill; but many men and women do keep it down. What these have to fear is idle gossip and curiosity. Idle talk may be malignant even when it does not intend to be malignant. If a man, merely to amuse himself, were to use firearms in a frequented street, he would be guilty of murder. So if we, in our idle talk, injure the good name and fame of others, we are guilty of malevolent unkindness. It is vain to say we do not intend any harm. All men in possession of their senses and their reason are bound to know that such talk cannot go on without doing damage. It is probably women who have most to answer for in this particular. They have more leisure, and their occupations more easily afford opportunities for idle talk. It is not too much to say that half of what is said at times like this is said simply for the sake of saying something. Silence seems oppressive or unsocial, and people study to think of something to say. To discuss persons is more amusing than to discuss things, and so they fall to "backbiting." Backbiting is an expressive English word which is applied to the process of talking over other people's faults behind their backs. It is an occupation which may vary indefinitely in its degrees of guilt and malignity, but it is always mean, foolish, and uncharitable. It corrupts speakers and listeners like leprosy, spoiling their best work and taking the life out of their very virtues. It encourages the demon of uncharitableness to come up to the surface. It wastes the time that was given us to work out our salvation; and it dishonours God our Father, ignoring that men and women are His most cherished treasures, and not the objects for heartless frivolity to aim its shafts at. Moreover, the harm which comes from gossip is incalculable. Every one knows what an evil reputation the word "tale-bearing" justly has. The repeating of tales with the insinuations, comments, and suggestions which usually give force and point to them, are among the most fruitful sources of disturbance, suspicion, separation, and misery, in this unhappy world of ours. The tales may not mean much; the imputations may be insignificant and even ridiculous; but when temper and feeling are in question, a very small rift may let in the waters of a deluge. Husbands and wives are set against one another, employers and employed fall into misunderstanding, families are divided, and congregations are set quarrelling; and in hundreds of cases one can trace it all to idle and irresponsible talk. Well may the Wise Man say, "The whisperer and the double-tongued is accursed; for he hath troubled many that were at peace" (Ecclesiasticus xxviii. 15).
There is one remedy, and a sure and lasting remedy, for all the sins of unkind speech; and that is: to learn to reverence every soul that God bath made. The men and women who are in the world like ourselves are some of them close at hand, whilst others are at a distance from us. We are allowed, nay, we are bound, to love with special love our parents and children, our partners in life, our fellow-countrymen, our fellow-townsmen. But there is no one, be he hidden away in the alleys and dens of our large towns, or be he divided from us by oceans and continents, who is not our concern; because all are God's concern. In the narrow circle in which we live, where we come face to face with the weakness, the folly, and the sins of men, we shall always be tempted to follow the impulse of our fallen nature—to judge, to condemn, or at least to despise and to pass by. We may not do these things. What would my lot be if Jesus had judged me? The impulse which led our Lord and Saviour to Bethlehem and to the Cross, was the immense and burning love of His Sacred Heart for every soul which He had created. Because He loved, therefore He gave His life. It is useless for us to give even our lives for other men, unless we strive to love them. When that love has come to shape and colour our speech, then we may hope that it has taken hold of our heart. And when true and genuine love of others for Christ's sake has seized upon our heart, then we may hope that God will fulfil His promises, and that He will bless our prayers, bless our sacrifices, and bless our work. For even as we do to others so has He promised to do to us.
From Bishop Hedley’s A Bishop and His Flock, written in 1909
