Blessed Titus Brandsma was a Carmelite and a university professor. It was said of him that his door was always open, and he always listened to and helped whoever came to him. He was a good ear. He had kindness in his eyes and in the lines of his face. He set aside time for anyone’s problems, be they academic, private, or spiritual.
In other words, Father Titus was always giving. This was normal for him.
When he was arrested by the Nazis and sent to a concentration camp, it was said of him that the professor who was always giving now became someone receiving just as much as he gave. He could not support himself. He could not go it alone. He received help from his fellow prisoners graciously and kindly. He continued to give, but he also received a lot. It was often necessary. The consoler was himself consoled. Maybe late in life, he learned to love his fellow human beings, not only as the one far removed and always able to assist, but also as the one in need and receiving the graces of friendship, justice, and generosity.
As I’ve mentioned a few times, something similar happened with Blessed Charles de Foucauld. (See this post, this post, and this poem.) He went to other people to give them Jesus. He expressed a wish to travel to the end of the world for one soul, and he made his home with non-Christian people. Of course, that’s a good thing to do. But it can never be the whole story, for in those people is Jesus. And since we must receive good things from Jesus, we must receive from our neighbours, too. It happened to Brother Charles in this way. There was a drought in the desert. The people among whom he was living were starving; the goats were dry of milk; everything was horrible. Charles himself ran out of supplies and became gravely ill. His non-Christian neighbours nursed him back to health and, at cost to themselves in a time of great need, saved his life. Charles’ life was changed. He was no longer the one going always to others, strong and empowered, to help them and give to them. He, too, was helped. He, too, was empowered by others. He, too, learned to receive from his neighbours. And that, too, was an act of love.
These stories are dear to me, because they remind me of myself. I have tendencies like those of Blessed Titus and Blessed Charles. I need to learn the same lessons as they learned, and I hope they can help me with these difficult turns in life. We sometimes have to learn to receive with as much love as we learned to give.