In the fourteenth century, the Black Death (bubonic plague) swept through Europe. A man named Roch immediately pitched in, serving the sick and afflicted wherever he was most needed. Like so many who selflessly helped those in need at that time, Roch ended being infected with the plague as well. Butler writes, “Falling himself sick, and unable to assist others” Roch was “shunned and abandoned by the whole world”–like so many people, Roch was welcomed when he could be of service, and was then discarded when he was the one in need.

This was an astounding invitation to bitterness and recrimination on Roch’s part–people that smiled when he showed up to risk himself in serving others now looked away or even walked away from his presence. Butler details that Roch “made a shift to crawl rather than walk into a neighboring forest, where a dog used to lick his sores. He bore incredible pain with patience and holy joy, and God was pleased to restore him to his health.” What did Roch do then? He immediately resumed his practice of caring for those at risk and in need!

I believe that what kept Roch from despising those who abandoned him when he fell ill was his own experience caring for those who were experiencing that same fate–those who, except for him, would have been abandoned at their time of greatest need. He knew that these were God’s children, and that it was for more important to be a caring and loving person (whether you are well or whether you are sick) than anything or anyone else. Often, I’ve had to take a step back from people I thought were caring friends who act appallingly (toward me or toward another), and recognize this simple truth: as much as I cannot stand what someone is doing, I am still happy that I am not that person–living that way, feeling those thoughts, closing my heart to that degree, grasping, avoiding, betraying, dehumanizing. There is a blessing, even when hurt, in not being the perpetrator and in not becoming like the perpetrator…for then evil truly does win.

St. Roch is a great reminder that we cannot dive into good and caring works with the expectation that we will be appreciated or that we will, in fact, receive the care that we ourselves give to others (although I do appreciate that faithful dog in the forest sent to provide companionship and affection to Roch!). Releasing within our hearts our own sense of “Hey, this isn’t right! This isn’t the treatment that I deserve!” and, instead, focusing on “Hey, this is the right thing for me to do!” goes a long way–and is much more life-giving in the end.