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Let Us Suspect the Best and Never the Worst: On Charitable Speech and Slander (Part 2)

Associate Pastor's Column
Sunday, January 14, 2007

            Today we continue applying the medicine to the sickness called “slander,” so that we can be a cluster of three parishes abundant in charity and more spiritually perfect by our speech.

            An examination of a passage from our guide, St. Francis de sales, will provide us with material; let us get to the root of his message, the causes of our temptations in this matter, and reflect on some possible solutions to save us from this sin.

            There is an unexplainable inclination we suffer from to not believe the good we hear about others but yet to eagerly believe the bad and even tell others of our beliefs. Still more, our tongue externally often goes down the same road what we think internally.

            This inclination is a child of original sin, and a part of concupiscence. It’s root is, in most cases, pride; yet rarely it can have roots in other vices, as when destroying one’s neighbor or his reputation might earn one greater wealth. This said, therefore, let no one get discouraged if you are tempted; rather, take up the arms of kindness and goodness, and valiantly fight the spiritual battle.

            St. Francis de Sales, our guide in this series, invites us to cast away the suspicion we have of the good of others. For we sons and daughters of Adam and Eve easily suspect that our neighbor speaks or does good with only self-interest as his motive.

            The Saint writes, “My daughter, I entreat you never speak evil of any, either directly or indirectly; beware of ever unjustly imputing sins or faults to your neighbor, of needlessly disclosing his real faults, of exaggerating such as are overt, of attributing wrong motives to good actions, of denying the good that you know to exist in another, of maliciously concealing it, or depreciating it in conversation.” (St. Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, III, 29.)

            Let us remember who “Philothea” is. In his own preface, the holy Bishop of Geneva states that Philothea is really “all who seek after the devout life, Philothea meaning one who loves God.” It is really a Greek construction, filoqeiva, or philotheia, meaning “God-lover.”

            The reason we must not be suspicious of another’s good intentions is that to do so is really a form of bearing false witness against our neighbor, a grave sin against God, prohibited by natural law and divine revelation in the Ten Commandments.

            The temptation to suspect secret evil when we see public good may have a handful of proximate causes. Maybe we ourselves always move selfishly, so it is impossible for us to imagine others may do good selflessly. Maybe we like to think of ourselves as better than others, and cannot stand to see others in the humble glory of their good deeds. Perhaps we imagine that we, not Christ, are the savior of others, and when others heed my wisdom, they will be saved from one evil or another. Perhaps we act so out of revenge, or out of habit, or simply out of bitterness that things didn’t go our own way.

            To solve this, what I suggest will help the weak sinner, and it will enable those who do not feel such temptations to kindly assist those who do so that all may walk in charity.

            My suggestion? It is very simple: let’s speak well about one another. Stop criticizing, start praising. Stop tearing down, start building. Stop undermining in the shadows, and start fortifying in the light.

            And in showing such love for one another, we shall imitate God, and earn many merits towards our eternal life in heaven with God and all the saints, which is really the only thing that matters. Then we will suspect the best of the worst sinners, and be more disposed to examine our own faults truthfully instead of others with uncertainty.

Picture: St. Francis de Sales wrote to “Philothea,” meaning “Lover of God.” Some Catholic trivia here: There is a St. Philothea of Romania, a child saint, murdered by her own father for her service to the poor, and therefore in iconography is shown with a hatchet, the instrument of her death.