“Christian love breaks down every barrier, bridges distance, unites strangers, and reconciles rivals. It spans chasms that are humanly impossible to bridge, and it penetrates into the most hidden crevices of society…A Church that sets no limits to love, that knows no enemies to fight but only men and women to love, is the Church that the world needs today.” (no.120) With this message, Pope Leo XIV not only concludes the Dilexi te, but also invites us to walk the dusty roads of the world and to stay close to the poor.
I felt like a human again
A few days ago, on a pleasant spring evening, I was walking through the centre of Milan. At one point, I saw a young man on the street. I don’t know if he was a beggar, but he was on the street nonetheless. He looked at me and said, “Mi dai qualche euro? Devo bere.” (Can you give me some euro? I need a drink). I stopped and looked at him. His clear, guileless eyes caught my attention. Without much thought, I gave him five euros and said, “Please, spend this on a drink to my health. Don’t use it for anything else.” I spoke with a touch of sarcasm, not wanting to preach. Hearing this, he started to laugh. As I began to walk away, he said, “We could have a drink together!”. I was a bit stunned, lost for words. I had never expected such an unusual request. Just when I thought I had escaped by giving him money, his unexpected invitation took our relationship to another level. “We can do it together!” he said again, more firmly, with a smile. It was getting late, and I had to get to the church for a service. Of course, I could have made an excuse and walked away; I had passed by indifferently many times. But this time, I couldn’t.
From cozy corners to elegant lounges, Milan has a wine bar for every taste. We spent more than two hours drinking good Barolo wine. Words flowed between us like memories shared by old friends. He unfolded his story; I added the pages of my own. In the end, the hours had passed unnoticed, and it was late. After I said my goodbyes, we hugged. “Look, I know some people,” I said. “If you’d like to stay in a shelter, I can help you find a place.” His reply flew like lightning: “It took me so long to become free like this. Do you want to put me back again in a cage?” There is no use in forcing anything. I got ready to leave. He called me back. I turned, and he hugged me again and whispered softly in my ear, “Tonight, I felt like a human again.” I said to him, “I feel the same way.” We parted joyfully, without exchanging any contact numbers. “The poor you will always have with you” (Mat 26:11). But there is a mystery hidden in their presence.
The Gaze – A Loving Act
Italo Calvino once said: “They met. He knew her and himself, because in truth he had never known himself. And she knew him and herself, because although she had always known herself, she had never been able to recognize herself like this.” Recognition isn’t merely seeing traits you already expected, but a deep, transformative discovery of the unrealized self and the unrecognized self. The way we see a person forms the very foundation of how we acknowledge their existence and make our presence meaningful, thereby realizing true human dignity.
To see someone merely as a beggar, a poor, or a social outcast is already to pass judgment on them. This is equivalent to disregarding their humanity and confining them in an invisible cage. This is merely superficial recognition. We must move away from this approach. Martin Buber’s “I-Thou” relationship should be cultivated. Only then, we do not see the other as an ‘object to be used’ (I-It), but as a whole, equal human being. In the face of the poor, we see something more than just need – the suffering of the innocent, Christ himself (Mat 25:40). Saint Vincent de Paul is known as the saint of humane compassion. When he sent his priests and sisters to serve in the impoverished suburbs of 17th-century Paris, he instructed them to first ask for forgiveness from the people they were helping. His intention was to help them avoid the temptation of feeling superior to those they served.
In relationships, the fear of losing something is what troubles us the most. The problem arises the moment we start keeping score. This happens in friendships and persists in the relationships of married couples. Every true relational sharing requires kenosis (self-emptying). It is the act of temporarily or permanently shedding one’s self-interest, power, social status, and towers of security for the sake of another. To nurture any relationship, we must create space for others, share our dreams and decisions, and courageously embrace our fragility
Today, a Revolution of the Gaze is Needed
How does the eye become a source through our gazes? As Italian Theologian Ermes Ronchi says, “When you open your eyes, you open up springs within yourself and within others.” The way we look at the world, and especially at other human beings, holds a creative or destructive power. There are many kinds of gazes today. A judgmental glance can paralyze and separate others. It sucks the essence out of life and isolates. A critical or hostile glance can wither life within and cast a person into loneliness. But a positive, non-judgmental look is inclusive, accepts others as they are, and helps to bring forth the springs within them. In particular, it calls forth their deep potential, talents, and hopes. In this way, our “eye” can effectively become a life-giving source. Thus, fides praecedit caritatem (faith precedes charity) and caritas praecedit fidem (charity precedes faith) remain the core source of our everlasting spiritual dynamism and our essential human dignity. Through this living dynamic our humanity is fully realized, expressed and actualized.
M. Titus Mohan is from the Diocese of Kuzhithurai, Tamil Nadu, India and is an author of 52 books and currently pursuing doctoral studies in Moral Theology in Milan