Written by Sr. Fe S. Santos, MI
It is a privilege for me, to share with you, my dear Sisters, friends and lay co-operators in our mission and faithful supporters of our cause, a short reflection which does not concern only Blessed Maria Domenica Brun Barbantini, but that which concerns us all, most of all, who have received the charismatic gift through this great lady and have assumed the mission to serve Christ in the sick with our whole heart: the diakonia of Christ in the diakonia of charity towards the sick of Blessed Maria Domenica.
All of us are witnesses to the fast-changing technology in healthcare in the post-modern world we live in and all the consequences it brings to the life of contemporary society. In a glance, it seems as if we are all swept away by force by the changes, we experience around us while we continue to be threatened by diverse realities of sickness, suffering and death. Before the new discoveries, high technology, and the digital society with which we have to rub elbows every day, before the ultra-modern advances in science which seem to be proclaiming itself to be the “lord of all,” what is left of the human being who, being the product of his own time, becomes more indifferent, individualistic and cold? What sense is there in the fourth vow that we Camillian religious profess? What meaning is left to you, our lay friends and partners in our mission, to serve the sick, especially the poor, with all your dedication and professionalism? Our beloved Blessed Maria Domenica, if she were with us today, how would she re-found her beloved religious family?
I will divide my reflection into three salient points: (1) the diakonia of charity towards the sick (2) the spirituality of the diakonia of MDBB; and (3) our response.
1. The diakonia of charity towards the sick
In gospel of Matthew, we read: “…Lord, when did we see you hungry and thirsty or a stranger or sick or in prison and we did not attend to you? (25:44). In Greek the word used was diakonhvsamen (diakonesamen).
The word “to serve” or “to minister “or “to assist” comes from the Greek work diakonei`n (diakonein) which means a simple and pure act of assistance, or service rendered to someone. In itself it signifies a kind of service given to a master. There is only one exception perhaps, which we find in the gospel of John 12:23 where it is said: “Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.” Generally, the verb diakonei`n does not imply a kind of service under obedience but denotes a service rendered because there is, beforehand, a relationship between the giver and the one receiving. Diakonei`n is a verb that presupposes a “You” with whom, however, I am not free to relate the way I would desire to but to whom I submit myself as a diakonw`n (servant = slave).
In the gospel of Luke, we read: “For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table? But I am among you as one who serves” (22:27; par. Mk 10:45). To serve or to become a servant in the olden days was a lowly position; it was a kind of job reserved for the slaves. Jesus, however, revolutionized the mentality of his own time. The phrase, “But I am among you as one who serves” is a phrase that denotes an act of giving oneself to the other. It is an expression that represents the totality of the act of Jesus, the Master of his disciples. With the verb “to serve” Jesus expresses the meaning of his own life. Here lies, then, the meaning of the parable of the Good Samaritan. To be a deacon of charity signifies giving all: that is, one’s own time, one’s own creativity, the very self to the point of risking one’s own skin for another who is in danger (cf. Lk 10:29-37). Not only this. To serve the sick or to be a minister of the sick means to take into consideration the totality of the person, that is, not only the physical but also the psycho-spiritual dimensions of his being. His physical sufferings cannot but reflect his innermost longing for healing.
2. The spirituality of the diakonia of Blessed Maria Domenica
Our religious family was born out of the great love of Maria Domenica for the suffering Christ in the person of the sick women left to themselves in the city of Lucca. Her great love for them was such that her ministry became a hymn of love towards the infirm. Every time she goes to assist the sick, she believes to be “assisting Jesus agonizing at the garden or expiring on the cross” (Writings, p. 157). This service to the sick “will be theologically correct only in the measure in which the service is identified with the sequel of Christ.” The charism received by Maria Domenica is a charism of mercy that requires anyone who wants to serve, a total identification with the merciful Christ and is a total self-giving without reserve to this “holy service”. Like St. Camillus, our Blessed Mother Foundress always have inculcated in the minds and hearts of her daughters that whoever wants to serve the sick must be able to put him at the center of her attention, but this is possible only when one is able to assimilate the attitudes of the merciful Lord in her life. Therefore, what is being asked of the follower of Christ in this ministry and of Blessed Maria Domenica is not simply a certain level of professionalism but to assume that subservient and meek attitude of the servant towards the Servant, that is to be a diakonw’n (diakonon) of charity, and to be a person full of Spirit because in the sick Christ acts, in him or her the Spirit dwells, in the same manner that Christ is in the diakonw’n of the sick.
To serve the sick is not simply a question of creativity or of availability to serve; it is most of all having a clear vision, a clear goal to achieve, that is, the salvation of humankind. This is the spirituality of the diakonia. We serve because we love; because in serving we also give the other person the possibility to experience the love Jesus has for the little ones. In serving the way Jesus served we build the Kingdom of God here in our midst.
The charism we received from Blessed Maria Domenica is a gift of the Holy Spirit, a gift that is translated into a living experience that generates novelty in life wherein everything converges in Christ. It is a school of life where one learns to suffer and feel with those who suffer (cum patire = compassion), with the wounded, not in a passive manner but actively participating, making efforts to bring the other towards the light of hope, allowing his or her own vulnerability become a vehicle of grace for the other. This is the passion that must characterize our life – our life as chaste religious of Blessed Maria Domenica, our life as devoted lay co-operators in the ministry of life, love and hope – in order to share that love rooted in the Crucified Love, allowing our own hearts be touched by the pains and sufferings of others so that new life might begin, so that the other may learn to put his hope in the Lord and be generous in sharing or even giving up his life for the other. This is the kind of compassion that Maria Domenica is teaching her followers.
Our diakonia is the diakonia of the Crucified Lord, that which is capable of transcending even our own difficulties, natural human repugnance, personal preferences, in order to serve Christ in the poor sick, with the awareness that in the sick Christ suffers and that his or her own moaning or deep silence is the same moaning and silence of God.
In one of my readings, I came across a very beautiful refrain of a popular Nicaraguan song by Carlos Mejia Godoy, which I think can be a good introduction to the mystical foundation of Maria Domenica’s charism of charity towards the sick and the suffering. I quote the song in its original form so as not to lose the warmth of the message that it tries to convey:
“Yo no puedo callar,
no puedo passar indifferente
ante al dolor di tanta gente.
Yo no puedo callar,
me van a perdonar amigos mios
pero yo tengo un compromiso
y tengo que cantar la realdad.”
These verses are, in fact, very true in the life of Blessed Maria Domenica Brun Barbantini. For her every sick, suffering or dying person is a living image of the suffering Christ, who has to be attended to, listened to, and cared for, the way our Blessed Mother Mary attended in agony but with strong faith to her Son dying on the Cross. Conscious, therefore, of having received a special mandate from the Lord to serve Him in the poor sick and the dying, Maria Domenica gave a concrete and palpable expression of the compassionate love of the Father, with the same attention given by the passing Samaritan to the stranger lying on the road, and the feminine and motherly attention of Mary in Cana or at the foot of the cross of her Son. For Maria Domenica, the Crucified Lord, who is the full expression of the Father’s infinite love for us all, and the Sorrowful Virgin Mary at the foot of the cross of her Son, are not simply models to contemplate and imitate. They are, in fact, the very foundation of her love and selfless dedication to the sick and the afflicted, for whose sakes she founded her congregation, and for whose care she gave the fullness of its expression through the profession of the fourth vow.
Suffering is a human experience which can be expressed and lived out in different ways. Some take it negatively – a punishment, a curse of God, or an injustice done to the innocent – while others take it as an occasion to share in the sufferings of Christ “to complete in their own flesh what was lacking in the suffering of Christ” (Col 1:24).
Maria Domenica, after the death of her husband Salvatore, dedicated herself entirely to works of charity by assisting the poor in their homes. Her heart, burning with love for them, could not resist the call of charity so that she was often found at the bedside of the most neglected. Often times she would go out alone at night, when everybody was fast asleep, with a small lantern in her hand to guide her along the dark alleys of Lucca towards the houses of the sick women languishing in their poor homes.
The service to the sick women became for Maria Domenica a way of life. The deep sorrow provoked by the sudden death of her beloved husband Salvatore Barbantini, and, later on, by her only child Lorenzo, did not keep her from consecrating herself to the service of the crucified Lord, her only love and portion. The gift of her charism was meant to be shared with others who wanted to do the same for the sake of those who are helpless, weak and defenseless. Some other women attracted to the same work of charity joined her and so a small group of dedicated women willing to answer the needs of the poor sick women of Lucca was born.
Convinced, therefore, that her vocation was to serve the sick and the dying in their squalid homes, Maria Domenica selflessly dedicated herself to this ministry. The words of Jesus, in the gospel of Matthew, kept her company: “Whatsoever you do the least of these my brothers and sisters, that you do unto me” (25:36), such that she wanted that her daughters «sent by obedience to assist the sick and the dying…[to] go with the same sentiment animated by faith, which they would have if they were asked to visit, assist, serve Jesus agonizing in Gethsemane, or expiring on the cross.” This made her assistance to the sick different from that of any ordinary health worker, however efficient. Fundamental to her ministry and that of the Congregation she founded is the attitude of the heart, such that every Sister Minister of the Infirm of St. Camillus is exhorted to cultivate in her heart the same love which inflames the heart of Jesus. This is the only means to overcome “the repugnance of our delicate nature.”
When Maria Domenica started her works of mercy towards the sick, the very discouraging condition of the poor sick women abandoned to themselves and deprived of means to seek hospital or private medical assistance, made her even more convinced that the Lord was calling her to this mission. Thus, besides the usual nursing care, she also brought some bread, fruits, and clean linens and, most of all, her heart full of tenderness for them. For Maria Domenica, therefore, the purity of heart and its capacity to love for the sake of Love, are essential in bringing not only physical relief to the sick, but most of all, the same merciful love that flows from the bosom of the Most Holy Trinity.
In the gospel of Matthew on the last judgement we read:
“Come, blessed of my Father! Take possession of the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me, I was thirsty and gave me drink. I was a stranger, and you welcomed me into your house. I was naked and you clothed me. I was sick and you visited me. I was in prison, and you went to see me”. (Mt 25:34b-36)
In the life of Maria Domenica, this gospel found a fertile ground. To this regard, she exhorts her daughters to “…instruct the ignorant, be patient with the troublesome…comfort the afflicted. Most of all… prepare the sick women to receive the Holy Sacraments and die as good Christians…”
The assistance to the sick is not a mere human ingenuity, but it is, most of all, a gift of God. Therefore, the life of the Sister Ministers of the Infirm of St. Camillus must be constantly nurtured by a “…humble and confident prayer.” Maria Domenica never tires to tell her daughters to “unite themselves totally to the Most Holy Virgin of Sorrows at the foot of the Cross, to implore the spirit of compassion towards the sick women, which will make all their actions efficacious for the relief not only of the body but also of the soul of the sick women.” She asks her daughters to make recourse to the Sorrowful Mother who, at the foot of the Cross, became the symbol of solidarity with those who suffer. Mary is the Mother of all those who cry for help and are overburdened with heavy concerns, the exemplar of piety for those whose mission is to be with others in their sorrows and pains.
In the Spring of 1854 in Tuscany, the epidemic of cholera morbus claimed many lives. It spread in Pisa, Lucca and Versilia until Florence. In February 1855, the epidemic returned, and it was even more violent than the first time. In May of the same year, the epidemic hit Pisa and Livorno another time. Lucca was reported to be the second among the badly stricken areas, after Florence. It was during this period that the Sister Ministers of the Infirm of St. Camillus gave their first heroic witness of charity. It was also on this tragic event that Maria Domenica and her daughters were granted the permission to wear the religious habit with the red cross of St. Camillus sewn on it.
On the 15 August 1855, Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady, Archbishop Arrigoni himself came to ask the Sisters to take responsibility of directing the Centre open for the victims of the plague, and at the same time, to give them the necessary assistance. On 22 August, Sr. Agatha Andreozzi and Sr. Carlotta Fanucci, together with two religious of St. Joseph left to respond to the call of God among the victims of the plague. On 29 August two other Sisters – Sr. Clemente Santucci and Sr. Melani (of St. Joseph) left for Porcari where approximately sixty persons had already been infected by the plague. On 18 September, the lazaretto of Pescia was closed. The epidemic was put under control; even in Porcari, the situation also improved, and the brave and good Sisters returned home, grateful to have been given the chance to serve the victims of the deadly plague. Sr. Carlotta Fanucci, however, was infected by cholera morbus, and on 7 March 1856 she passed away.
This is just one of the moving testimonies of how far the spirit of compassionate love towards the sick of the Sisters of the Congregation of Maria Domenica can go: to serve the sick even at the risk of life. True enough, the value of a gift is appreciated only when it is shared generously with others. Jesus, in fact, using the image of a grain of wheat, speaks metaphorically of total self-donation: “…unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (Jn 12:23). Maria Domenica’s great passion for her Crucified spouse and filial trust and confidence in her Sorrowful Mother, served to help the sick, the poor, the afflicted, and the dying, have a taste of what Love truly is.
3. Our response
The man of today is never different from the man of past in the sense that in his pretenses of having discovered everything, he is always in search for the meaning of his life. Our diakonia is always directed towards finding answer to the desire, however disguised many times, by every human beings to search for meaning. Life is worth living only if it has a meaning. Even in suffering, and most of all in suffering, we want to find meaning and give meaning to it. We who are called in the healthcare ministry, as promoters of life, are tasked to make our diakonia or ministry a service of love, understanding, comfort, hope, compassion so that no life, no suffering, no death will be lived in indifference. Our diakonia of charity, as taught by our great father Camillus and our blessed Foundress, Maria Domenica, must become an expression of a vocation that is a vehicle of love of the Crucified so that everyone without exemption may “have life to the full.” Neither beautiful words nor our professionalism will suffice in our rendering of service to the sick if our kind of service does not inspire trust, transform or vivifies the faith of the other weakened by sickness or suffering. A heart overflowing with love that overcomes even the most ferocious challenges of our highly technical and individualistic, and sometimes, inhumane society is a requisite to build together a world as God has envisioned it to be.
After all, our kind of diakonia is a way of living our vocation as baptized Christians, as Camillian religious and as lay mission partners, through which we serve the other incapacitated by sickness or suffering and pain. The diakonia of charity towards the sick is our contribution to humanize and Christianize the world of suffering today and make divine every human relationship in the world of healthcare.
At the end then or our life, when we have given our all for the love of God and our brothers and sisters, we can have the joy and privilege to hear the invitation of the Lord, “Come blessed of my Father… for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you sheltered me, naked and you clothed me, sick and you visited me, imprisoned and came to visit me” (Mt 25:34b-36).