Today October 8

Although he died on October 6th, we celebrate Brother Isidore of St. Joseph (1881 - 1916), Passionist, today. He could technically be called a layman -- and his life has lessons for all us "lays" -- but he was above all a religious and totally dedicated to God, though he was humble and obscure. He started out as an altar boy (always a good proving ground for vocations), attended daily Mass and worked hard on his family farm. He became a CCD teacher (great unsung heroes, they), and then a volunteer at neighboring farms. He looked after his aging parents, too. He was no dour saint, but always ready with a laugh or a joke. His folks certainly didn't WANT him to enter the Passionist monastery (a suggestion of a traveling Redemptorist priest, who felt it matched Isidore's talents and will), but, in tears, they finally allowed it.

He had quite a time of it. First he couldn't find the monastery. Nobody in that part of Belgium spoke Flemish and Isidore spoke no French. So he spoke Flemish louder and slower. Funny. Finally a driver came by who was bilingual.

Once there, he resolved to follow the Rule perfectly, as a bulwark against the temptation to despair, since all the priests and brothers seemed more knowledgeable and educated than he. And he was completely obedient, humble and chaste. And as the Rule forbid extraordinary penances, he did little ones, like waiting 5 minutes before he started eating, skipping butter on his bread, and doing little individual kindnesses for the other priests and brothers, like preparing their favorite foods (he was cook for awhile). He would take on other's chores -- quietly and without complaint -- if they neglected to do them. He stayed to guard the monastery during World War I, one of the few to volunteer to do so. He had to face the dreaded "c" word -- yeah, himself and cancer in the same sentence! He suffered cancer of the eye and intestine. He knew unbearable pain. He asked the infirmarian to help him, and he sat upright (to lie down was too painful), with his head in the infirmarian's hands. Poor guy. It must have cost him a lot in pride. He wished, he said, that he could make a better thanksgiving after they brought him Communion. His last words were -- I kid you not -- "I am dying." And so he passed to his reward. 30,000 people flocked to his memorial service in 1952 (at his ritual exhumation, tied to the development of his cause in Rome), so much had news of his sanctity and posthumous miracles spread. Brother Isidore of St. Joseph, pray for us.