We invite you to discover, through his writings, Blessed Giacomo Cusmano (1834–1888), a priest who founded the congregations of the Misionary Servants of the Poor and the Sisters Servants of the Poor, and who was known for his charity toward the needy and the sick.
Giacomo Cusmano wrote numerous letters, homilies, and spiritual notes in which we encounter a man whose spirituality was rooted in active charity, seeing in every poor person the face of Christ. For this reason, he not only helped the needy with his own resources but also organized the work of the “Boccone del Povero” [“the Morsel of the Poor”], which mobilized the community to provide food for the most destitute.
Text of Giacomo Cusmano:
To love God means also to love our neighbor. Therefore, it is a vain illusion to believe that one loves God when charity toward our brothers and sisters is lacking…
‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’ is a clear and precise command of God, not a mere counsel and it is also a fundamental duty of everyone. It is on this that we will be judged: ‘I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat; I was naked and you did not clothe me…’.
—Giacomo Cusmano, Boccone spirituale, July 8.
Commentary:
Blessed Giacomo Cusmano returns here to one of the central truths of Christianity: there is no authentic love of God that does not express itself in concrete love for neighbor. The relationship with the Lord cannot remain only in the realm of the interior, mystical, or spiritual; it is verified, tested, and measured in the relationship with others.
Cusmano speaks with blunt clarity: to think one loves God while despising, ignoring, or neglecting the needy brother is not true love but a “vain illusion.” That is, a self-deception, a mirage that may soothe the conscience but in reality contradicts the Gospel.
This affirmation is rooted in the very teaching of Jesus. When asked which is the greatest commandment, He responds by uniting two inseparable realities: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets” (Mt 22:37-40). They are not two distinct loves but two dimensions of the same charity.
Cusmano, profoundly evangelical, stresses that this is not a piece of advice, nor an optional invitation: it is a command. “You shall love your neighbor” is an imperative that comes from God Himself. In an age like ours, when we often relativize the demands of the Gospel, it is worth recalling this forcefulness: love of neighbor is not one choice among others but an obligation for every disciple of Christ.
It is not just any duty but a fundamental one. Cusmano reminds us that at the end of life we will be judged on charity. He explicitly cites Jesus’ words in chapter 25 of Matthew’s Gospel: “I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat; I was naked and you did not clothe me…” In that great universal judgment, we will not be asked about academic degrees, professional achievements, social recognition, or even the intensity of our private devotions. The criterion of the exam will be concrete love for the brother or sister: did you feed, give drink, clothe, accompany, console?
The Sicilian Blessed knew firsthand the harshness of poverty, the misery of the hungry and naked in his time. That is why he could not accept a faith limited to words or rituals without translating into works of mercy. True religiosity is not praying much and then closing the door to the needy, but letting prayer move us to open that door.
His denunciation of “vain illusion” remains very current. In our Christian communities we may fall into this self-deception: attending Mass, praying devoutly, joining processions or pilgrimages, and at the same time ignoring the poor, despising migrants, closing our eyes to the homeless, hardening our hearts toward the sick or marginalized. All this may give us the impression of being good believers, but if concrete charity is lacking, Cusmano firmly tells us: it is not true love of God.
The inseparable union of both loves—of God and neighbor—is what gives consistency to Christian life. St. John expressed it harshly: “Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar” (1 Jn 4:20). Cusmano repeats the same evangelical logic: we cannot deceive ourselves into believing we love God if we despise our neighbor.
Moreover, the Blessed adds something essential: this is not a romantic, sentimental, or generic love but concrete charity. The proof is in Jesus’ words: feeding, clothing, visiting, consoling. To love is to take responsibility for the other’s real needs. This has a strong consequence: faith is verified in practice, in action, in works of mercy.
At the same time, this text has a tone of hope: the judgment is not based on complicated criteria but on the simplicity of charity. We will not be asked for something inaccessible but for gestures within everyone’s reach. All of us can give some food, some clothing, some time, some affection. All of us can be instruments of consolation and help. It is not about grand works but about love made daily service.
Cusmano, with his life, was a luminous example of this. He was not content with preaching charity; he organized it, institutionalized it in the Boccone del Povero, uniting rich and poor at the same table, creating networks of solidarity that began with small contributions but sustained thousands. For him, giving a “mouthful” of bread was not insignificant: it was prolonging Christ’s presence among the hungry.
The challenge for us today is to recognize where we fall into the “vain illusion” of loving God without loving neighbor. It may be in indifference to the poor, in hardness of heart toward those who think differently, in lack of compassion for the marginalized of our time. The Gospel asks us to make love concrete, for only in concreteness is its authenticity revealed.
This text of Cusmano also invites us to understand charity as a command, not as an option. Sometimes we treat solidarity as something extra, voluntary, almost accessory: “if I have time,” “if I feel like it,” “if I have something left over.” The Blessed reminds us it is not so: it is a fundamental duty, a demand of faith, a divine command. Not loving neighbor is not a simple omission: it is a grave sin that contradicts the very essence of Christianity.
Finally, the emphasis on the Last Judgment helps us order life. Many things seem important, but they are not when seen in light of that final evaluation. What will truly count is concrete love, because it is the only thing that endures. St. John of the Cross expressed it in his famous phrase: “At the evening of life, we will be judged on love.” There lies the real exam.
This reflection shakes us but also frees us. It invites us to leave behind illusions and self-deceptions, to purify our faith of superficialities, and to focus on what is essential: loving God in the concrete brother or sister. That is the true glory of the Christian, the true measure of our lives.
Suggestions for personal reflection and group discussion:
- Do I sometimes fall into the illusion of believing I love God while neglecting my neighbor?
- Do I live love of neighbor as an optional counsel or as a fundamental mandate of my faith?
- What concrete gestures of charity mark my daily life today?
Let us pray:
Lord, open my eyes to the neighbor in need,
so I may not be lost in empty illusions.
Let my prayer become action,
my faith become deed,
my love for You be proven in love for others.
Free me from indifference,
from a hardened heart,
from the comfort that hides behind words.
Teach me to give bread to the hungry,
clothing to the naked,
comfort to the suffering.
May I find your face in concrete love,
and discover your presence in daily service.
Amen.
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