What does it mean to be wise? How does gentleness lead us closer to God? These were the questions that I pondered on for this reflection. While in prayer, I realized something. There seems to be a connection between the two. The gift of Wisdom and the fruit of Gentleness are both rooted in the same virtue of Humility.
Let me explain.
The gift of Wisdom seems so underrated sometimes. While attending Catechism classes, I wondered why we needed wisdom when we had knowledge in the same list of the Gifts of the Holy Spirit. Aren’t they so similar that there isn’t a need for the other?
Yes, they may sound or seem similar but having these two gifts in the same list is no mere accident. It is intentional. Let me share with you a quote that helped me understand the difference between the two gifts: “Knowledge is knowing that tomato is a fruit, but Wisdom is knowing not to add it in your smoothie”. It is in Wisdom where both knowledge and experience coincide with one another.
It takes deep humility to understand that Wisdom (and all the other gifts) isn’t a gift that we have inherently within ourselves, but rather, something given to us freely by God. Through this gift, He is allowing us to witness the world through His lens: the Truth.
Now, gentleness.
This particular fruit of the Holy Spirit holds such a very place in my heart. Before I tell you why, let me tell you about my dear saint friend, St. Therese of Lisieux. She is one of the four women Doctors of the Church, known for her Little Way of Holiness. If you asked me to think of a saint that reminds me of gentleness, she would be my immediate answer. Why? By overcoming her struggle with sensitivity as a child, St. Therese grew more attuned to Christ, emulating His soft, gentle, tender spirit.
I’ll be honest with you, friend. Gentleness was a hard pill to swallow growing up. Like St. Therese, I was also a sensitive child. This caused me great grief because those around me decided that the only way to treat me was with extreme caution, as if I was delicate porcelain ready to break at any minute. Due to this, I started to associate gentleness and sensitivity with inferiority and weakness.
If I wasn’t strong like the others, then I must be weak, right?
Wrong. Christ taught me that this fruit of Gentleness is a gift. I am reminded not only of St. Therese’s incredible story of overcoming her sensitivity but also how Jesus treated the woman caught in adultery. He didn’t condemn her, but treated her with gentleness.
We are called to treat each other in the same way.
By embracing my own gentleness, I am able to emulate Christ in my own way. In learning to humble myself before the Lord, I am able to receive the gift that He has graciously given me and offer it up to Him for His glory.
I will leave you with a quote that changed my outlook on gentleness and sensitivity forever:
“I asked God why He made me too sensitive, and He promised me that it wasn’t a mistake. He told me He purposely made me delicate, not so that I could shatter easily, not so that I could be frail, not so that I could be told I’m “too soft” whenever someone tries to touch me.
It was so I could know of the gentle beauty in living. And in my tenderness, I can love in a way the world may not know of yet. My compassion has the power to speak raging waves to calmness and I can appreciate the little things He created that go unnoticed. There is something special in being fragile, and it has nothing to do with weakness, and everything to do with strength.
Being sensitive is a gift, He answered, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”
Emi Namoro is a full-time psychology student at Douglas College, the Digital Engagement Support for the Proclaim Movement, and a parishioner at St. Clare of Assisi Parish at Coquitlam.
