To see a cactus is to see a plant well-armored and well-suited to the harshest of environments—at least, to an amateur cacti observer like me. The fleshy green exterior is solid and firm; the coat of prickles is intimidating and sharp. I give cacti a wide berth.
For that reason, I had no trouble staying on the intended path at the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix, AZ. I wasn’t looking to cause any problems nor draw any of my own blood. Yet my opinion was evidently not the only one: countless signs adorned the pathway cautioning visitors against traipsing about among the cacti. Clearly, there were those who were bent on seeing the cacti up close and personal.
The signs were adamant that the cacti were, in fact, quite fragile. Disturbing the soil they called home or brushing up against the otherwise formidable outer layer of these less-than-impenetrable giants could sow seeds of disaster.
Some cacti had lived there for decades. They towered above passersby, reaching for the clear desert sky. I wondered, How many travelers had observed these prickly giants? How many had resisted the temptation to stray from the path and disregard the clear instructions? How tragic would such a careless act be, reducing these pillars of prickles and green to nothing but rotting flesh, food for the sand and the wind?
What generations take to build, one thoughtless gesture destroys in a moment.
There’s an old saying about being kind and generous to others, for we never know what burdens they secretly carry. The toughest of us are fragile; the strongest among us have limits. We can never know if our unkind word or careless act might be the one that breaks the back of our friend, family member, or colleague.
In the Ignatian tradition, we have the Presupposition. At its core, this “Ignatian plus sign,” as the Presupposition is sometimes called, is simply the act of giving others the benefit of the doubt. It reads as follows:
To assure better cooperation between the one who is giving the Exercises and the exercitant, and more beneficial results for both, it is necessary to suppose that every good Christian is more ready to put a good interpretation on another’s statement than to condemn it as false. If an orthodox construction cannot be put on a proposition, the one who made it should be asked how he understands it. If he is in error, he should be corrected with all kindness. If this does not suffice, all appropriate means should be used to bring him to a correct interpretation, and so defend the proposition from error. (Puhl trans., The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, #22)
What if we didn’t wait to apply the Presupposition? What if we simply lived this way? What if we walked through life’s many paths predisposed to treating others gently, tenderly, with kindness, and always mindful of the hidden burdens they carry and the unknown effects such burdens may inflict? Rather than supposing that each of us is strong enough to endure a few tough words, nasty jokes, or unlooked-for insults, what if we instead tried to nurture the soil in which we each grow?
The cactus looks like it can take all sorts of abuse: ravishing heat, unforgiving winds, dry and scorched earth. Yet one wayward step might be enough to end decades of abundant life.
Let us then tend to one another, presupposing that we each are doing our best. Let us do away with preconceived notions, assumptions, and biases and instead offer each other the compassionate love that Christ gives each of us.