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:

If the Lord considers as done to Himself what is done to the Poor: mihi fecistis! we must recognize Jesus in the poor. No matter how deformed and repulsive a person may appear, we must close the eyes of the flesh to look at him with the eyes of faith; and faith makes him appear beautiful, with a beauty entirely divine, as the most lovable among the sons of men, because in him is Jesus Christ.

—Giacomo Cusmano, Boccone spirituale, October 1.

Commentary:

Cusmano cites in Latin that mihi fecistis—“you did it to me”—the expression by which Christ identifies Himself with the hungry, the thirsty, the strangers, the naked, the sick, and the imprisoned. This is not a romantic parable but a universal judgment: in the suffering flesh of the poor, Jesus Himself is present.

This mystery is as demanding as it is consoling. Demanding, because every time we pass by, every time we despise or deny help, we are rejecting the Lord Himself. Consoling, because every gesture of tenderness, every cup of water, every compassionate look, every shared bread, is received by Christ as if we had given it directly to Him.

Cusmano places us before a real difficulty: many times poverty appears in forms that repel, scandalize, or disturb us. Faces deformed by illness, bodies deteriorated by misery, odors that wound, behaviors that unsettle us. Our natural temptation is to look away, protect ourselves, keep our distance.

These are the “eyes of the flesh,” which see only the exterior and judge by appearances. With such eyes it is impossible to recognize the divine beauty hidden in human misery. That is why Cusmano exhorts us to “close the eyes of the flesh and open those of faith.” It is not about denying the reality of misery but about piercing through it with a deeper gaze that can discover Christ where humanly it seems impossible.

Faith changes our perspective. Where the flesh sees deformity, faith discovers dignity. Where instinct perceives repulsion, faith perceives a hidden, divine beauty that comes from Christ present in that brother.

The Christian is called to see as God sees. God does not stop at appearances; He sees the heart. Faith grants us that new gaze that recognizes the poorest, the most fallen, the most wounded, as the “most lovable among the sons of men.” Cusmano expresses it by recalling the messianic psalm that announces the beauty of the Beloved Son: “You are the most handsome of the sons of men” (Ps 45:3).

That title, applied in Scripture to Christ, Cusmano now applies to the poor seen with eyes of faith. What a divine paradox! The most despised is revealed as the most beautiful, because in him is hidden the Lord Jesus.

Seeing with the eyes of faith is not automatic or easy. It is a pedagogy that requires daily conversion. We must train our gaze, exercise the heart so as not to be trapped by what is superficial.

This requires time, patience, closeness. Those who remain distant will never discover Christ’s beauty in the poor. Only those who draw near, touch, share, and listen can begin to see with the eyes of faith.

Faith does not deceive us: it does not magically turn misery into something pleasant, but it allows us to go through it and discover a deeper beauty. It is the beauty of the cross, the beauty of love that gives itself. When we look at the poor with faith, we are not engaging in an aesthetic exercise but entering into communion with the mystery of the crucified Christ.

On Calvary, Jesus appeared disfigured, wounded, bleeding, repulsive to human eyes. Yet, there the greatest beauty was revealed: the glory of love that saves. The same happens in every poor person: what at first sight seems ugly and repulsive hides the beauty of Christ who loves to the end.

Cusmano is not naïve. He knows repulsion exists and that it is not enough to idealize the poor. Real poverty shocks, unsettles, disconcerts. But precisely there lies the test of faith: being able to overcome repulsion and discover Jesus.

Every time misery seems unbearable, we have the opportunity to close the eyes of the flesh and open those of faith. It is an act of trust, of obedience, of love. We do not look with the world’s eyes but with Christ’s, who sees in every poor person a beloved brother, worthy of infinite tenderness.

This text reminds us that charity is not only social assistance but a personal encounter with the Lord. When we give food, heal wounds, console, we are not simply improving living conditions: we are touching Christ Himself.

This radically changes our motivation. We do not help out of human compassion, philanthropy, or moral duty. We help because Christ is in the poor, and because whatever we do for them we do directly for the Lord. This awareness frees us from indifference and gives us strength to persevere even when the task is hard and exhausting.

Today this message of Cusmano is more urgent than ever. We live in a world that values appearance, aesthetics, beauty according to superficial standards. Youth, health, and physical perfection are idolized. Those who do not fit that model—the poor, the sick, the disabled, the elderly—are marginalized and considered a burden.

Against this culture of discard, Cusmano’s voice reminds us that true beauty is in Christ, and Christ is in the poor. Our task as believers is to educate our gaze to recognize that divine beauty, even when it is hidden under forms despised by the world.

Recognizing Christ in the poor is not optional but an essential part of the Christian faith. If Christ Himself said mihi fecistis, we cannot seek Him elsewhere. Faith obliges us to pierce through appearance and discover presence.

This demands a radical change of mentality: to stop looking with human eyes and begin to look with the eyes of faith. That change is not only individual but also ecclesial and social. A Church that does not educate in this gaze runs the risk of being worldly, superficial, unable to recognize its Lord.

Cusmano teaches us to see beyond what is seen. He invites us to close the eyes of the flesh, to overcome natural repulsion, and to open the eyes of faith to discover Christ in every poor person. Only then can we truly love; only then will our charity be authentic.

Because charity does not consist in giving things but in recognizing persons; and the first person we discover in the poor is Jesus Himself.

Suggestions for personal reflection and group discussion:

1. How can I train my gaze to discover the hidden divine beauty in the poor?
2. What would this mihi fecistis imply for the way I live charity every day?

Let us pray:

Lord, teach me to open the eyes of faith.
Let me not stop at appearances,
nor turn away in disgust,
but recognize Your living presence in every poor one.

May I see Your beauty in wounded faces,
Your glory in misery,
Your strength of love in fragility.

Grant me the grace to draw near without fear,
to touch without fleeing,
to serve without limit,
knowing that whatever I do for my brothers and sisters
I do for You.

Let my vision be reshaped by Your gaze,
and my heart be set aflame with true charity.

Amen.