“Love” is one of those difficult words in the English language. We don’t love with the same intensity, or in the same manner, popcorn, a pet, a dear friend, a spouse, or (hopefully) God. There is always some risk, when using the word “love,” that you will be misunderstood. Since it bears such weight in its variety of meanings, we have come to use it excessively, even inappropriately, and so we may often find ourselves challenged to fully express what we wish those simple four letters would convey.
The same could be said for the word “charity.” We might say with some sarcasm that someone is a “charity case.” But in the richness of our Catholic response to the poor, we have the example of St. Mother Teresa of Kolkata and the order of nuns she founded—the Missionaries of Charity. They dedicate their lives to “charity”—to selflessly caring for the poorest of the poor in the harshest of conditions. More broadly, Catholic Charities USA’s 2022 Annual Report shows that, in 2022 alone, they provided over $15 million to support the poor, the homeless, immigrants, families in need and to provide disaster relief and services. Their mission was supported by millions of charitable dollars in donations and 215,000 volunteers.
Of course, the Missionaries of Charity, Catholic Charities, and so many other individuals, religious orders, and Catholic ministries are only doing what our Lord commanded all of us to do; things like feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, giving drink to the thirsty, giving alms to the poor, etc. Those are the things we refer to as the corporal works of mercy. If we don’t have those on our resume when we’re called to judgment, Jesus tells us that things won’t go too well for us (Matt. 25:34-46).
So important are these charitable works that we can even be recognized as followers of Christ by them. Jesus told his followers to “love one another” and, of course, the poor, sick, and indigent are one of us and should be the recipients of our love. He told us that by this love, people will know that we are his disciples (John 13:34-35).
Among the many saints known for their care and concern for the poor is St. Luigi Guanella. Don Guanella lived from 1842–1915 and founded the Servants of Charity and the Daughters of Saint Mary of Providence. A special charism of these communities is their care for those with intellectual and developmental disabilities—those who Don Guanella referred to as his “Good Children.” In our own time, the Venerable Jerome Lejeune (1926–1994) sacrificed fame to dedicate his life and talents to caring for those with genetic intellectual disabilities because he loved them. His charity ran deep. So much so that the Church has declared his virtue “heroic.” Pope Francis named him a Venerable in 2021.
Christians, who follow the message of Christ, should never disparage or judge negatively acts of charity.
So, given what has been written thus far, you might be thinking this article was mistitled. How could charity ever be a dirty word?
Good question.
“Models of Disability” are conceptual tools that help us understand, or express, how we think about disability, and the “Charity Model” is one of them. The “Medical Model” focuses on the physical, mental, or cognitive impairments of a person as the primary features of consideration. This model sees disability as something that needs to be fixed. The “Social Model,” by contrast, focuses on factors external to the person that prohibit the person with an impairment from fully participating in society. This model focuses on acceptance of the person, and removing any disabling restrictions or barriers that prohibit their full incorporation into society.
When people that work in disability studies or disability advocacy talk about the “Charity Model,” it is always with disapproval. Well, frankly, that word is too mild. The article “Take Pity: What Disability Rights Can Learn from Religious Charity” begins this way: “There is nothing more sacred, from a disability rights perspective, than the rejection of charity.” The “rejection of charity”? How strange that sounds to Christian ears. The article’s author, Harold Braswell, has written to redeem the word from a disability community that associates charity with pity. Pity, he says, is the most despised emotion in the disability rights tradition. But to despise pity, as it should be properly understood, is a rejection of an emotion expressed by Our Lord himself: “When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things” (Mark 6:34). Pity is an emotion that can move one to acts of charity. It, too, isn’t a bad thing.
The term “Charity Model” is an unfortunate capture of a beautiful and important word. The way it is used in the disability community misforms and misguides—and even demeans Our Lord’s commandment to love. Pity is a feeling. Charity is an action that provides aid and support to those in need. It is how we live as Christ commanded us to live in relation to one another.
Of course, Christians know that there exists a kind of feigned “charity” that isn’t charity at all. This is the kind of activity that is done to draw attention to oneself. Jesus condemned it in the starkest of terms. He warned against those who he said are “whitewashed tombs, which on the outside look beautiful, but inside they are full of the bones of the dead” (Matt. 23:27). To be such a person is to be a hypocrite, banging gongs and cymbals to draw attention to their “good works” (1 Cor. 13:1). It is generosity for show and is void of any merit. Moreover, it is a sin of the most grievous sort.
But there are two problems I see with using the word “charity” negatively within a conceptual model of disability. First, for an advocate or activist to react negatively, or even harshly, to charity may project a sense that people with disabilities are not in need of true charity—that they don’t need our help or our generosity. That may be true for some with mild impairments, but one complaint I have with the disability community, in general, is that expectations seem benchmarked to those who are mildly impaired to the neglect of those who are more severely impaired.
Another problem with a negative reaction to charity is that it may stifle what a Christian’s response should always be to anyone in need—even if the need is perceived and not true. A negative reaction to charity might cause one to stop and question themselves as to whether or not they are acting appropriately toward one with an impairment. They may fear that their offer of assistance will be resented rather than appreciated as a gift of self to another. One of the reasons people give for not engaging with persons with disabilities is they are afraid they will do something inappropriate and cause harm. The last thing we should do is discourage people in our parishes or our communities to not engage with people with disabilities.
There are potential dangers built into any conceptual model, but perhaps the Charity Model, as it is understood and used, is the most unfortunate. Christians, who follow the message of Christ, should never disparage or judge negatively acts of charity. To presume they are acts performed by presumptively superior individuals to cast another person as inferior is a judgment similar to what Jesus condemned in the Pharisees of his time. Would one condemn Don Guanella as representing the Charity Model because he went out onto the streets to serve those with disabilities and bring them into his communities to care for them? Or would one sneer at the Missionaries of Charity for the work they do among the poor? May God have mercy on the one who would!
The word “charity,” like “love,” always risks being misunderstood, and so do the actions those words represent. We must use language carefully, and never stop loving and caring for those with disabilities or any other person in need. It is the Lord’s command.
No, charity is never a dirty word.