Today May 27

Today is the feast of St. Thomas of Canterbury, but we will celebrating him tomorrow, on his old feast day, so we can celebrate Bede, "the venerable Bede" ("the Venomous Bede" according to the spoof "1066 and All That"), who died in 735. This simple English monk did his people, his Church (in those days, of course, the ONLY Church), and the world an enormous favor by composing and putting to paper a detailed history of the Church in England. He was born at Jarrow and given to St. Benedict Biscop and the monks at the age of 7, ordained deacon at 19 and priest at 30. He wrote several books, including commentaries on Sacred Scripture, ending with the famous Ecclesiastical History of the English People when he was 59. He never left home, never conquered foreign countries for Christ, never did anything folks might call amazing or heroic, but he was a great saint nonetheless. Thank God "it has ever been my delight to learn or teach or write," as he himself wrote in a brief autobiographical note at the end of his opus. Thank God he was published.

He suffered from "shortness of breath" and had an intimation of his upcoming death after a particularly bad spell. He spent his remaining days (from two weeks before Easter til a little after Ascension Day) with his pupils at his bedside, continuing to "learn, teach and write" -- working on a translation of St. John's Gospel into English and a commentary on the works of St. Isidore of Seville. Why did he knock himself out so? "I will not have my scholars read what is false or labour unprofitably on this after my death." His last days were well recorded by his pupil Cuthbert, and it is known that on his last day he dictated the final sentence of St. John to his assistant. Then he desired to be taken into the church so he could gaze on the tabernacle, and his last words were "Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost."

He was always called Venerable as a mark of respect, although he was not officially canonized and declared a doctor of the Church until 1899! He is the only English doctor and the only Englishman named in the Paradise of Dante's Divine Comedy. Dear Venerable Bede, pray for us.

Today May 21

Today is the feast of St. Andrew Bobola, (1591 - 1657), martyr. And what a martyr! The circumstances of his death, desired to be hushed up by the Cossacks and the Orthodox who caused it, were miraculously disclosed when his body, which had been cast on a manure pile, was found incorrupt. This also was an eloquent sign to the Orthodox, who hold physical incorruptibility in special veneration, and whom this Jesuit missionary always desired to bring into the fold.

Andrew was a Polish aristocrat who joined the Jesuit novitiate in Vilna, an Orthodox stronghold, that had recently -- and peacefully -- been annexed to Poland (by the marriage of Queen Hedwig [of Poland] and Duke Jagiello [of Lithuania]). He became priest and then superior at Bobrinsk, from which he courageously preached in Orthodox towns, even though he met with prejudice and vilification. One thing they always seemed to do to him was to incite a roving band of kids to shout obscenities at him and to drown him out with yells every time he tried to speak. How patient he much have been to not rebuke or yell back at them -- imagine always being drowned out.

One day some Cossacks (who opposed the presence of Catholics in the area) attacked him, made him run behind one of their horses, beat him and interrogated him. Not liking his courageous -- and Catholic -- answers, they cut him lightly all over with swords, stripped him, burned him, cut off his nose, ears, tongue, and finally head. All through -- at least while he still had his tongue -- he prayed to Jesus and His Mother. He could have capitulated at any time. After all, as people are always telling us, they are just like us! Yes, the Orthodox are just like us, but they are not exactly the same, and for some, those little differences are very important. For some, Catholic identity is important. St. Andrew was canonized in 1938. Dear St. Andrew Bobola, pray for us.

Today May 19

Today is the feast of St. Joaquina (1783 - 1854). This saint was both a laywoman and, later in life, a consecrated religious. She was given in an arranged marriage to a young lawyer 10 years her senior. She was one of a bevy of daughters of Don Lorenzo de Vedruna and had made the mistake of telling Don Teodore (the visiting young man) that she liked candy. He was soon back with the sweets . . . and a marriage proposal. They were soon married, but the lovely little 16-year-old bride acted depressed. Her husband tenderly asked her what was wrong and she revealed that it had always been her wish to become a nun. She got the surprise of her life when Don Teodore sighed and revealed HE'D always wanted to be a PRIEST. And then, as she later told her six (6!) children, "We comforted one another."

Soon four children graced the wealthy household. Teodore was the oldest in his family and had inherited most of the family wealth -- but, of course, had also been expected to marry and raise up heirs. His life was not all roses. The vagaries of war hit the little family hard -- Teodore had to go to war and came back wounded -- and Joaquina, very pregnant, had to flee the country with the four kids. But even on top of all that, Teodore had to endure the jealousy and financial demands of all his siblings, and Joaquina their scorn (for his so-called "marrying down.")

Two of their children died (including the infant born during the war), but three more were born in short order after Teodore's return. His health, however, had been seriously compromised and he soon died. Joaquina mourned him in black for two years and then for the next eight wore a rough brown "sack" tied with a string like a Franciscan habit. She even took to riding a donkey. All the Barcelona townspeople thought she was mad. But she was living out a call she still heard, and when the stubborn donkey stopped in front of a Capuchin church, the priest, Father Stephen, who came out to talk to her, perceived it too. He asked her to start a new order of sisters to combine the contemplative life with active charitable service. "But where shall I find the nuns?" she asked. "They will come," he replied. Thus began the Carmelites of Charity, an order that still is going strong, despite losing many sisters in the Spanish Civil War of 1936 - 39.

St. Joaquina herself was plagued with strokes, which eventually paralyzed her the last five years of her life, and even, at the end, robbing her of speech. She received the Eucharist humbly and with reverence, a lesson for others even in silence. She was beatified in 1940 and canonized in 1959. St. Joaquina, pray for us.

Today May 10

Today is the feast of Saints Gordianus and Epimachus (died 360). These two saints are buried together about a mile from the city where they both perished. Epimachus was a Christian killed for his faith by Emperor Julian the Apostate.

Gordianus was one of Julian's commissioners. He was put in charge of compelling a man named Januarius to sacrifice to the gods and instead ended up listening and being persuaded by his talk. I suppose listening to the prisoners is an occupational hazard, but you wouldn't think it would sway too many imperial Romans. The fact that is did speaks to its power and logic, if not its supernatural origin.

Gordianus was discovered -- along with his wife Mariria and 53 others -- to have "gone Christian" and ordered to be beheaded unless he, too, sacrificed to the gods. He refused and gave his life for Christ in the year 360. To add insult to injury, his body was thrown out to be food for the dogs, but some faithful Christians recovered it and buried it with the aforesaid martyr's. Saints Gordianus and Epimachus, pray for us.

Today May 8

Today is the feast of Blessed Mary Theresa Ledochowska (1863 - 1922). Earlier we read about a saint (Father Mateo) who received great encouragement from St. Pius X; today's saint did from him as well, though at the time he was only a cardinal, Cardinal Sarto. He felt her order, the Missionary Sisters of St. Peter Claver, was a great power in helping Africans and even invited the sisters into his own province of Venice because even the poor there could help the missions.

Mary Theresa had been an early and strong advocate against slavery. She was brought up a progressive, though she was a countess in the old aristocracy of Austria, and had been taught by her parents, especially her father (father of 12 children!) to work for just wages, land reform and religious freedom as well as abolitionism. Mary Theresa started as a writer; she had a newsletter -- I feel she'd be a "blogger" were she living today -- and then a newspaperwoman, and finally a nun, foundress of her own order. She gave up so much for it: a life in court (she was an elegant lady-in-waiting at the Court of Tuscany), a fierce temper, excessive self-assertion, pride (she was permanently scarred by smallpox, but she bore it humbly, though she had been a stunningly beautiful woman), and even smoking!

She devoted herself to preparing missionaries for Africa, even translating books into all the African languages she knew. She and her friend Melanie were the first intrepid members; together they did much good. She died many years later of a wasting disease (she weighed only 62 lbs. at her death), and many witnessed her beautiful smile just before she left this world. Blessed Mary Theresa, pray for us.

Today May 7

Today is the feast of Blessed Rose Venerini (1656 - 1728). Blessed Rose is a true layperson, having lived her whole life in the world, though in fact she had, earlier in life, entered a convent. She had to leave in order to take care of her ailing mother, and when later she desired to re-enter the convent, her Jesuit spiritual adviser persuaded her to use her great gifts right there in Viterbo.

She humbly gathered the women and girls of the town to say a simple Rosary each night and then their shocking ignorance spurred her to teach them catechism. She did, and she had a great gift not only of teaching but of teaching teachers -- creating the next generation of educators, so to speak. She was very capable and hard-working, providing good practical advice -- which was sometimes even life-saving, as her enemies actually fired arrows at them and with flaming torches tried to set fire to their informal schools.

But Rose's constant and unperturbed patience and humility won over even her fiercest critics and she (and her followers) were not only able to continue her work but expand it throughout Italy and eventually to the United States. Blessed Rose, pray for us.

Today May 5

Today is the feast of St. Jutta (died 1220), laywoman. Even in the olden days we had examples of great lay saints, often following the leads of other lay saints struggling their way to sanctity while balancing their many obligations in "the world" with their call to follow Jesus faithfully. In this case, her role model was St. Elizabeth of Hungary, so Jutta, after admirably raising her children, serving her husband til his death, and living very simply, she was able to follow her model much more closely. All her children having grown up and settled down, she divested herself of her property and devoted herself to helping the poor, dressing their wounds and feeding them.

She went on pilgrimage and though she was homeless (by choice), she received a building from her relative in Prussia when she went there. I would have thought perhaps she'd fix up the ruined house on the seashore and take in beggars, but no. She left it more or less in its "natural state" and lived alone, praying. Her special intentions were for conversions and for the perseverance of the baptized. She said three things could bring one very near to God: "painful illness, exile from home, and voluntary poverty." So true.

She was often seen levitated in prayer. She died of a fever in 1220 and many miracles were reported at her grave (near Kulmsee). St. Jutta, pray for us.

Today May 4

Father Mateo Crawley-Boevey (1975 - 1960), is a fairly modern saint, although I use the word "saint" loosely, as his cause has only recently been put forward. A young priest (whose motto, and that of his order, was "To be a saint!"), he burned for missionary duty but forced himself to "bloom where he was planted," so to speak, and serve the folks at home (Chile). (He had an English last name because his father was a British businessman, while his mother was a Peruvian [Catholic]. His father converted from Anglicanism only on his deathbed. But he supported all Father Mateo's priestly desires.) He reached out to all classes, providing a law school for the wealthy and a social center for the poor. He was especially proud when his law school became incorporated with the local university. That was in May (1906). By August, the dream was in ruins. A major earthquake had hit Valparaiso.

Now Father Mateo's attention was completely absorbed with getting relief to the victims of the quake. He wore himself out so much he had to take the cure in Europe. While at Paray-le-Monial, he was inspired with a plan to spread devotion to the Sacred Heart back in his own land and then around the world. St. Pius X listened to him and startled him by saying, "No, my son. You ask for permission and I say no. I do not permit you. I command you to give your life for this work."

And so he did. He and another priest would go to each home, putting up a picture of the Sacred Heart and perform a simple ceremony. He started in Chile and soon was doing this "Enthronement of the Sacred Heart" throughout the world. In his own personal mission, he converted hundreds of notorious sinners. He talked to people, he said prayers, but above all, he said the Mass. At great sacrifice sometimes, he said daily Mass wherever he was. (He was always in poor health, and in the last days he could not even stand up. But he had received a special dispensation to say Mass seated, and so he did. Every day -- even Saturday.) He died on this date in 1960, back home in Chile.

Now some folks will tell you you have to do the Enthronement of the Sacred Heart in a very specific way, say these exact words, and get a priest to do the whole shebang (which in these days is very difficult). No, you can put up your own picture and make Our Lord the master of your own home and heart. Father Mateo, pray for us.

Today April 26

Today is the combined feast of Saints Cletus (died c. 91) and Marcellinus (died 304). Not much is known about these two popes, except they are both martyrs, Cletus during the reign of Domitian and Marcellinus during the reign of Diocletian.

Cletus is sometimes called Anacletus, leading to some confusion as to whether there were one or two men, but it is now generally known that they are one and the same.

Marcellinus lived in very turbulent times and possibly lapsed a little in the face of persecution, even to the point of turning over some sacred books and/or burning incense to the gods. However that may be, he certainly died as a martyr for his faith, and if he did temporarily lapse, he embraced his faith anew, even at the supreme cost. He is buried in the cemetery of St. Priscilla. Saints Cletus and Marcellinus, pray for us.

Today April 24

Today is the feast of St. Fidelis of Sigmarengen, (1577 - 1622); his birthname was Mark Rey. He was a philosophy major and eventually got his doctorate and taught philosophy at the University of Freiburg in Switzerland. He took a 6-year sabbatical and did the "Grand Tour" with six young men he took under his wing. He maintained sobriety, frequent Communion (a rarity in those days) and extravagant charity. You've heard the expression, "He'll give you the clothes off his back"? Well, Fidelis actually DID that a time or two.

After this time, he decided to practice law, which he did with a remarkable amount of integrity, avoiding personal attacks and invective, and often defending the poor and oppressed for free, so much so that he was nicknamed "The Poor Man's Lawyer." But the shadiness and cynicism if not downright corruption in the trade made him quit in disgust. He entered the Capuchins and served as a terrific parish priest, devoting himself to the twin missions of preaching and hearing confession, which he did in a succession of German-speaking parishes. In all this he did not neglect the sick, many of whom he cured and still more he visited. Nor did he neglect the Protestants, many of whom he converted (or re-verted) to Catholicism, despite great personal risk.

And it was at great personal risk he preached at Grusch in the heart of Protestant territory. He gave an unusually fiery -- and effective -- sermon, and then left, first with the help of the Austrian army and then with that of some Protestants. But the overwhelming numbers of the angry mob proved too much both for the troops AND the sympathetic Protestants and Fidelis was set upon. He was cruelly killed (beaten with swords before being repeatedly stabbed), but prayed that God would forgive them, in true St. Stephen style. A Zwinglian minister who was present later converted, the first in a long series of conversions due to our saint. St. Fidelis, pray for us.

Today April 22

Today is the feast of Saints Epipodius and Alexander, (died 177), martyrs of Lyons in France. They were great friends, having studied and become Christians together. Christianity having been outlawed, they did the reasonable thing and took off, trying to hide themselves. An old lady, a platonic female friend, hid them in her little hovel but by and by the two gentlemen were found out.

Now, the Romans, by law, were not supposed to incarcerate people without a trial, but the feeling was running so high against them (and the other remaining Christians), that they were summarily separated, jailed, tortured and finally executed (Epipodius by beheading, Alexander by crucifixion -- still a method of execution in those days). It perplexed the governor that "What purpose have all the preceding tortures and executions served, if there still remain any who dare profess the name of Christian?" Indeed, the more they tried to stamp it out, the more it grew, it seemed. They didn't yet realize that this movement was something supernatural, indeed, something "of God."

The faithful collected the bodies of these men (plus a shoe that had fallen off one of them when they ran away from the arresting officers) and buried them on a hill outside the city (and kept the shoe). Well, the city grew and soon it was inside the city and a church built there: first it was called the church of St. John and then the church of St. Irenaeus. Dust from the double tomb was used to cure illness, ditto drinks poured into the shoe (and then given to patients). Good Saints Epipodius and Alexander, pray for us.

Today April 21

Today is the feast of St. Anselm (1033 - 1109). A Frenchman, he is now best known for his service as bishop and doctor of the Church in England. He began in France, getting his spiritual education throughout that venerable country, and eventually made it to the wonderful monastery of Bec in Normandy, where he settled, wrote his illustrious Monologium (on the proof of the existence of God), his Proslogium (his meditations on the attributes of God), and his Apology (sort of a spiritual autobiography), and from which, as its (eventual) Abbot, he toured parts of England, at that time part of Normandy. In England he attracted the attention of both William the Conqueror (who amended his life somewhat, due entirely to Anselm's influence) and Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, who chose him as successor. He was quite modern, even progressive, in his views on education, on slavery and on cruelty to animals, among other things. He governed wisely and well, despite opposition from the mercenary King William Rufus who tried (unsuccessfully) to depose him. He fought with Rufus' successor, Henry I, who wanted the right to appoint his own bishops. Anselm won in the end, but it was a long, hard fight and at the end, Anselm was an old man. He died peacefully in Canterbury on this date in 1108. St. Anselm, pray for us.

Today April 18

Today is the feast of Blessed Mary of the Incarnation, (died 1618), born Barbara Acarie, known as "la belle Acarie", laywoman -- at least for awhile. She wanted to be a Franciscan -- or at least a sister at Hotel-Dieu in Paris -- but her parents insisted she marry, as she was their only surviving child. Her husband, Peter, was a minor official in the government, a good man but not exactly thrifty, so she did occasionally suffer a good bit. But she took him in hand, raised their six children, gave to charity, maintained the household, and, miracle of miracles, was even a hero to her maid! (The woman, Andree Levoix, testified to as much, years later.) She took to the courts to defend her husband against charges of conspiracy for heavily endowing the Catholic League, when that organization fell out of favor upon the accession of Henry IV to the throne. She restored his good name (though not his fortune), allowed him to return to the Paris from which he'd been banished, and even found favor with the king and queen themselves. So trusted was she, she was given more than one fortune to distribute as alms, which she did, quietly and efficiently, without keeping a penny to herself. Her little family did her proud, and she lived a deeply satisfying and prayer-filled lay life until the death of her husband in 1613, at which point she joined the Discalced Carmelites, an order she was instrumental in introducing into France. But little Mary of the Incarnation, as she was called, only served four years in the habit; her main road to sanctity had all been as a laywoman. She died of a stroke after suffering a long time due to very lame feet and legs. Her last words were: "If it should please Almighty God to admit me to eternal bliss I will ask that the will of His divine Son should be accomplished in each of you." Blessed Mary of the Incarnation, pray for us.

Today April 15

Today, the ides of April, infamous Tax Day for Americans, is the feast of St. Peter Gonzales, confessor, (1190 - 1246). This man is better known as St. Elmo, and I don't know about you, but that always makes me think of St. Elmo's fire, a mediocre 80's movie and even more importantly a real phenomenon seen at sea when weird electrical discharges are seen as different-colored lights just off the prow or the mast of a ship and typically taken as a good omen by sailors. Sailors indeed love St. Elmo and take him as their patron. An unlikely one, considering his start: as a noble and arrogant young man who became a worldly and arrogant priest. But one day a horse threw him and the fall shook him up so much he regretted his former life and became a humble Dominican. A series of old friends and relatives went to him in the friary and tried to get him to return to his former dignity but he would have none of it.

He was ordered by his superiors to preach, and preach he did, all over the kingdoms of Leon and Castile, in humble abodes, on ships (the rough crews were his special concern, in court and castles, on battlefields and camps (he was even present at the bloody -- and successful -- battle of Cordova), even in the brothels. But never was any scandal attached to him (though he had his detractors), so much was his conduct above reproach. Indeed, he converted a prostitute who had tried to seduce him. He took the improbable -- and probably miraculous -- course of crawling into a burning fireplace and asking her to join him if she was so determined to sin! He emerged unhurt and she repented and reformed her life.

He died on the road to Compostela, chief of the shrines in Spain. Turning back to Tuy, he died in the arms of his friend the bishop there and in the company of several of his sailor friends. Good St. Elmo, pray for us.

Today April 9

Today is the feast of Blessed Thomas of Tolentino (died 1321). Poor Thomas was sort of like Columbus: he knew where he WANTED to go, but he never quite got there! Thomas, a Franciscan, wanted desperately to go to China -- China, that's all he wanted. Obediently, he went to Armenia when he was sent there by his superiors. He met with great success evangelizing (and re-evangelizing) the people, and, realizing the political peril of the populace, even advocating for defenses to be sent them against imminent attacks by radical Muslims. He was then sent to Iran, where he also worked in the missions. He finally, finally! got the chance to go to China -- with a whole clerical entourage -- and ended up being blown off course to India, where Muslims there arrested, scourged, exposed and finally beheaded him. But the Indians, ironically, are the only ones who now truly revere him and celebrate his feast with due devotion. St. Thomas, pray for us.

Today April 4

Although today is also the feast of St. Isidore of Seville, (the doctor of the Church, not the farmer) we are going to go with St. Benedict the Black (died 1589). This interesting man was the freeborn son of African slaves living in Italy. They took the name of their owner as a surname, a practice even followed in this country. Anyway, why couldn't Mr. Manasseri have set the parents free as well, eh?

Well, though Benedict was freeborn, he was still discriminated against for his race. One day some bigoted neighbors were mocking and insulting him while a Franciscan hermit by the name of Lanzi was walking by. He heard Benedict's gentle replies and, after the neighbors were gone, complimented him on his character and invited him to join them (the Franciscans). Benedict went home, sold his few possessions, and joined the group of hermits, loosely based on the rule of St. Francis. At Lanzi's death, Benedict became prior, much against his will. When Pope Pius IV put an end to wandering (or otherwise unorganized) hermits, Benedict chose to join the Franciscans for real.

As a humble lay-brother, he accepted a position as cook, but even there, he could not long remain in obscurity. Even in the kitchen, he had many opportunities to practice little acts of kindness; it was appropriate that he could multiply foods. More than that, his face literally shone when he was in adoration in church, and he more than once healed folks and could read souls. He later became spiritual director of a group of nuns and was a wise and discerning superior. He declined to have people kiss his ring, and often hid his identity by wearing his hood and traveling by night. He was an ascetic, but he said the best mortification when it came to food was not to decline it altogether but to eat what was set before you, as a token of gratitude and to give pleasure to the donors. Wise St. Benedict the Black, pray for us.

Today March 27

Today is the feast of St. John Damascene (aka John of Damascus), poet, doctor of the Church and last of the Greek Fathers, (c. 645 - c. 749). He is also called John Chrysorrhoas, John the "Golden Speaker" for his great writings, and John Mansur, his real surname. It was conferred upon his father by the Muslim caliph in whose service he was and means "the Victorious". John was destined -- later in life, as he had a late vocation -- to fight the Iconoclast movement (one that felt there was no place for representational art in churches) and so to take on all the forces of the late Roman empire. The Emperor Constantine V Copronymus twisted his name to John Mamzer, or Bastard John, to show his displeasure with our saint's strong defense of art -- not only statues, icons and stained glass, but hymns, books and poetry as well. "One might have expected that a man named Copronymus would have been a bit more careful about playing the fool with people's names, seeing that the Copronymus he bore all his life recalls his own infantile indiscretion of having soiled the font while being baptized." - William Jurgens, Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. 3, p. 330.

John, educated by a profoundly gifted Sicilian slave named Cosmas -- whom the elder John had bought to secure his freedom only to retain as a tutor -- went into civil service just as his father had done. He became head of the internal revenue service under the caliph in Damascus. Ooh, he's a tax man! But then John precipitously left his job and retreated to the desert to the monastery of Mar Saba. (He didn't become a priest until years later when John V, patriarch of Jerusalem tapped him. But he immediately returned to his cell in the monastery to write.)

Now you'd think the monks at Mar Saba would be pleased and grateful to have a man of the stature and education of John in their midst, but no. They were deeply suspicious of his Aristotelian sensibilities and especially of his joy in creation and in his delightful hymns, of which he wrote not only the lyrics but also the melodies. But John accepted their scorn and obediently even cleaned out the filth of the cells as his punishment. This unfair situation continued until the head monk had a vision of Our Lady in which she castigated him for punishing John and told him to allow him to write all the books and hymns he wanted!

John wrote "The Source of Knowledge," which includes the extremely influential "Of the Orthodox Faith" -- still today a bedrock of theology, especially for the Eastern churches. John was a master of synthesis, able to take facts from many difference sources and blend them into a coherent whole. His special strength was theology (though he knew math and medicine, grammar and logic equally well). And he was able to speak his mind fearlessly and unmolested, in part because he was under Muslim authority and NOT (iconoclast) Christian.

Dear St. John Damascene, pray for us.

Today March 26

Today is the feast of St. Ludger, died c. 809. We have a surprisingly lot of information on today's saint, a native of Frisia, that group of islands off the coast of Germany where, if you close your eyes and concentrate, you'll feel like you're hearing English spoken, so close is Frisian to English. Ludger was in Germany itself when an Englishman arrived who wanted to preach in Frisia. The dean of the school there said okay, provided he take Ludger with him as deacon. The man, Alubert by name, took him back to York to be consecrated and it was there Ludger met Alcuin, that stellar mind, and the two clicked. In fact, Ludger stayed at the college for three and a half years and would have stayed longer had not all Frisians been kicked out in retaliation for the murder of an important English merchant's son. So he returned to Utrecht and was given charge of repairing a local church. Rather than doing so, he built a whole new one -- on the (previously unknown) burial place of the saint for which the church was named.

Then, finally, he was sent as deacon to his native Frisia aka Frieseland, where he labored long and hard to wrest the people from their pagan ways. He built churches and destroyed pagan temples, which were plundered by Charlemagne, although some was given back to the church (about a third), also in the form of protection. But all of a sudden, all his work came to naught when the Saxons invaded Frisia. Poor Ludger must have felt like a total failure, watching all his country plunge back into the darkness of paganism.

But all was not lost. After a three-year sabbatical in Monte Cassino , where he studied under, but did not become, a Benedictine. He was later able to return to his homeland, and to areas beyond: Heligoland, Westphalia and even Denmark and Scandinavia. He established a see at Muenster and became its first bishop.

Late in life, he kind of torqued off his emperor, the famous Charlemagne, because he didn't come immediately when called by a messenger -- nor a second or third. Ludger, you see, was praying and, as he later explained to the monarch, "I believed that the service of God was to be preferred to yours or to that of any man." He died in peace on this day, which was Passion Sunday in 809. St. Ludger, pray for us.

Today March 23

Today is the feast, well, of Easter of course (Alleluia!), but also of St. Joseph Oriol (1649 - 1702). His father died when Joseph was still an infant, but his mother married again and the stepfather treated him as his own child. There was no "your child" or "my child" between them. Good man! Those unsung heroes, the stepfathers.

Joseph was very poor (the stepfather was a shoemaker), but the priests in the diocese there in Barcelona considered him so promising and bright that they taught him to read and write. He was such a good student he merited a scholarship to the university, even getting an advanced postgraduate degree.

But he was not proud. Although all thought him a saint, he knew better. He knew the virtuous life would be a struggle, but he was up to the task. He ate very little, drank only water, dressed simply and lived in perfect continence. He became a parish priest. His simple room contained only these: a crucifix, a table, a bench, and some books. He didn't even have a bed, as he only slept a few hours a night!

He was a great confessor and had a real gift for spiritual direction. He didn't please everyone, though; some who felt him too strict complained about him. Some of his critics must have been the "big givers" (or at least "big men on campus" so to speak), since they got the attention of the bishop who forbid him to hear confessions. He obeyed instantly, unfair though the ruling was; but the prohibition didn't last long. The bishop died and was replaced with a more discerning man (who immediately lifted the ban).

He was very active in the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith, though he was never able to travel nor to offer himself as a martyr. He was equally committed to the sick (whom he often cured!) and children and soldiers -- to all of whom his directness, gentleness and wisdom never failed to move. His funeral was so well-attended they had to shut the cathedral down so the burial could proceed. He was canonized in 1909. St. Joseph Oriol, pray for us.

Today March 21

Today, besides being Good Friday, is the feast of the beloved St. Serapion, Desert Father, died c. 370. He was also a bishop, a fearless defender of (and correspondent with) St. Athanasius, and an exile for his beliefs. He was an author, too, and wrote many admonitions, including: "The mind is purified by spiritual knowledge, the spiritual passions by charity, and the irregular appetites by abstinence." Wise words, especially today.

He was against all forms of avarice, even in the (gulp) possession of books. When a brother asked him for "a word," Abba Serapion looked around his cell and paused. He was reluctant to speak, but the brother begged him. He got an earful. "What shall I say to you? You have taken the living of widows and orphans and put it on your shelves." For he saw them full of books. Sigh.

He was unafraid of anyone. When he ran into a prostitute he said to her, "Expect me this evening for I should like to come and spend the night with you." The prostitute, not wanting to lose an opportunity, agreed. When Serapion arrived, he asked if the bed was ready. When she said it was, he said he must first fulfill his "rule of prayer." The woman started trembling as he prayed the psalms and after each one said a prayer for her conversion. When he was finally finished, she collapsed on the ground. He now started reading from St. Paul's Letters. The woman was moved to profound repentance and gave her life to God right then and there. He found her a home in a convent and later witnessed her holy death.

And finally, the story is told of a brother who came to Serapion for advice. When Serapion asked him to let him wash his feet, the brother refused, saying he was "unworthy." When Serapion asked him to join him in prayer, the brother again refused, saying he was "a sinner." Serapion then told him to stay in his cell, pay attention to himself, and do some manual work. When the brother got offended at this, Serapion let him have it. "Up to now you have called yourself a sinner and accused yourself of being unworthy, but when I admonished you lovingly, you were extremely put out. If you want to be humble, learn to bear generously what others inflict upon you."

Wise St. Serapion, pray for us.

Today March 18

Today is the feast of St. Cyril of Jerusalem, died c. 387, priest and doctor. Poor Cyril. "Not orthodox enough for the orthodox and not Arian enough for the Arians," - William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. 1, p. 347. He was a priest in Jerusalem under St. Maximus, and while he understood the term "homoousious," he was reluctant to use it. Of a conciliatory temper, he ruled the spiritual side of the Holy Land well, but came into conflict with Acacius, the Arian bishop of nearby Caesarea, and was expelled three times from his see. But all's well that ends well: he took part in the council of Constantinople, which re-imposed the "homoousious" ("consubstantial", meaning of Jesus's nature with the Father) and served out his last years in peace.

St. Cyril of Jerusalem, pray for us.

Today March 17

Today is the glorious feast of St. Patrick (c. 418 - 493), beloved of all Irishmen and patron of Ireland. While he did not single-handedly Christianize Ireland (there were others before and after him), it can well be said that the spiritual fate of that country rested on his narrow shoulders. A British subject, kidnapped as a slave, he was forced to work as a shepherd for six long years in Antrim. He was shaved, cursed, starved and beaten, the whole cruel lot of slaves. He managed to escape and begged a ride on a boat carrying wolfhounds to Continental Europe. They actually landed in Britain, but in a wild, untamed part of it. They wandered around, but at one point Patrick managed to escape and to return to his family.

You'd think that joyful reunion would be the end of it, but no. Patrick was haunted by the memory of the sad, mostly pagan Ireland and in his generous heart decided to return and give them the light of Jesus. He became a priest in France, then returned to the land of his captivity. Turned away from several ports, he finally landed in Strangford Lough (near Bangor, in County Down) and made his way to Tara, the place of the High King, making converts all along the way. Once when he was preaching to the king about the passion of the Christ, he accidentally pierced the king's foot with the point of his sharp crosier. Instead of castigating Patrick, or even crying out, the king bore it quietly, thinking it was all part of the ritual! The King himself never accepted Christianity, but allowed Patrick to preach, baptize, build churches, and ordain (he had been made a bishop by the Brits) unhindered throughout the land. And succeed he did: he built hundreds of churches, ordained 3000 priests, and baptized thousands. He was not able to convert his former owner, however -- that man committed suicide (and arson) rather than face the shame (as he saw it) of repentance and conversion.

Although Patrick seldom had ANY free time, he managed to escape to Croagh Patrick (a white quartz mountain near Clew Bay) for the 40 days of Lent. It was during this time of prayer and fasting that he had the vision and heard the angel's promise that the Irish would hold fast to the faith til the end of time. And "all the men of Erin, living or dead, shall be blessed and consecrated to God through thee." Neat.

Patrick traveled less as time went on, and wrote more. He settled in Armagh and there set up his cathedral. He wrote many beautiful prayers, psalms, poems and even an autobiography called the Confession. But not all his words were diplomatic and flowery. He also wrote a blistering attack against a British prince and slaveholder who had raided Ireland and kidnapped and enslaved some of Patrick's own subjects. He wrote: "Is it a crime to be born in Ireland? Have we not the same God as you?" And he called him a "rebel against God" and said, "What manner of hope in God have you, or any who cooperate with you? God will judge!" Wow.

He died where he started out, in Strangford Lough in the North and while many towns vied for the right of his final resting place, Downpatrick received the honor when the oxen carrying his coffin stopped there and could not be moved. You can visit his grave there in the churchyard, adorned with the simple marker: a boulder marked with a cross and the one word: Patric.

Dear St. Patrick, pray for us. Erin go bragh.

Today March 13

Today is the feast of St. Euphrasia, virgin, died c. 420. This remarkable girl, a foster child of an emperor (Theodosius I), may well have been the envy of St. Therese the Little Flower, for Therese fought hard to gain admittance to a convent at age 15 . . . and Euphrasia was accepted at 7! The power of the emperor didn't secure her her position, for both she and her widowed mother were fleeing the court, since they both were being sought by potential suitors! The unnamed mother was more successful in this than the daughter, for when she came of age, the son of the wealthy senator to whom she'd been promised came looking for her. She refused him, but began more and more to be distracted and tempted by that rich old world she had once -- and could again -- inhabited.

To help keep her mind on her vocation (and the love of the Lord), the mother superior gave her many hard and/or menial tasks to do: cleaning the cells, carrying water, chopping wood, baking bread, cooking food, and, Dostoevsky's perennial favorite: moving a heavy pile of stones to one place and then back again! The treatment worked: she humbly and completely embraced the life she had once chosen, and even joined in extra prayers and hymns. She was accused of doing so in order to win the superior's position; instead of countering such slander, she merely knelt and asked the accuser to pray for her! She died peacefully, and when her cellmate and best friend Julia prayed to join her in heaven, three days later Julia was found dead. A month later the grieving mother superior prayed to join them also; the next morning she was dead as well, having gone to her reward. St. Euphrasia is honored by the Russians, Orthodox and Catholic alike. St. Euphrasia, pray for us.

Today March 12

Today is the feast of St. Louis Orione (1872 - 1940), secular priest extraordinaire. This thoroughly modern saint was all about achievement, the work of God. He established a boarding school for boys -- all before he was even ordained a priest! He founded four orders. He got things done fast. When he'd asked permission to found his boys' club, the bishop had granted permission but then rescinded it. After all, the man was just a seminarian, folks said. Louis went obediently, but not meekly. He pointedly expressed his sharp disappointment in the bishop's going back on his promise; besides, Louis had already received the entire amount he needed AND a suitable place AND his first registered pupil . . . all in the space of a few hours! The Bishop could see the writing on the wall and gave his fervent support. Not bad for a poor boy who'd washed out of the Franciscans and quit the Salesians!

Louis wasn't shy about "speaking truth to power" -- even power beyond that of the bishop. He remonstrated with a certain cardinal who he said had favored a talented musician/seminarian. He wrote it in a powerful but tactless letter. Only after he'd mailed it did it occur to him that maybe he was very condescending; he wished to God he could fish the letter back OUT of the mailbox! Years later, he came face to face with that very letter -- on the eve of his ordination, when the cardinal, now Pope Pius X (!) showed it to him in his brieviary. Pius smiled and said, "Even the pope, you know, needs frequently to be reminded of the need for humility!" He then gave him a gift of money, some new vestments, and approval of his new order, the Work of Divine Providence. All Louis' orders, that and the (contemplative) Hermits of Divine Providence, the Little Missionary Sisters of Charity, and the Blind Sacramentine Sisters (with all blind members!) all work according to the program of Dante's "Our love has no closed doors." The boys' (and later, girls') clubs, the boarding schools, the homes for the aged, the sick, the insane, the retarded, and the poor, were open to everyone, of any belief (or no belief), without cost. They relied almost totally on Divine Providence. Time and time again, thousands or even millions of lira would arrive at exactly the right time, and when one home was filled, another would be offered.

Louis kept eating, but he constantly lost weight. He joked with his doctor that he still had his sins and THEY at least were heavy! He'd always had diabetes and he suffered two debilitating strokes in '39 and '40. When chided by his nurse for writing 22 personal letters just before he died, he smilingly replied, "It's all right. We'll have a long rest in Paradise." This kind man with the piercing eyes closed them for the last time in 1940. His body is still incorrupt. He was beatified a mere 17 years after his death, astonishingly quick in that day. He was canonized in 1980. St. Louis Orione, pray for us.

Today March 11

Although today is the feast of St. Sophronius (d. 638), we are going to go with St. Teresa Margaret Redi (aka Teresa Margaret of the Sacred Heart, aka Anne Mary Redi) (1747 - 1770), virgin. She was a modest little girl of a large and fairly well-to-do family; and she was endowed with remarkable good sense. Well-educated in Florence a the convent of the Sisters of St. Apollonia, she chose not to join them even though she felt compelled to religious life. A supernatural vision of St. Teresa of Avila suggested to her to join the Discalced Carmelites. She followed the rules of the order completely -- and even went above and beyond the call of duty in prayer, penance and poverty.

She entered as a lay sister but was requested to become a choir-nun, which she did. She lived a fairly anonymous life, shut off from the world, and was a real joy to the few sisters who shared her short life. Wisely, she said, "Everything comes to an end; therefore take heart, for we pass from one thing to another until at last we arrive at eternity. Even seeing how things of this world end so quickly ought to console us, because the nearer and more quickly are we approaching that end towards which all our activities should tend."

This pure-hearted girl truly experienced that which St. Angela of Foligno described as "fire, love and sweetness" -- literally -- especially when she received Holy Communion. And probably fittingly, she exuded a sweet perfume -- as did all her clothes and even the flowers placed around her coffin -- long after her death, for she was -- and remains to this day -- incorrupt. It is even more remarkable because not only was she not embalmed, but she died with the horrible affliction known today as "dead colon." The gastro-intestinal disease came on her quite suddenly -- though there are indications she had a foreknowledge of it -- and she died peacefully despite 18 hours of great pain. This gangrenous condition ordinarily results in an acceleration of decomposition, rather than the exact opposite! You can still see the body of this dear woman in the Monastery of St. Teresa in Florence. St. Teresa Margaret Redi, pray for us.

Today March 10

Today is the feast of Father John Joseph Lataste (1832 - 1869), Dominican, founder of the Dominican Sisters of Bethany for former women prisoners. It took a long, roundabout way for Father John Joseph (born Alcide) Lataste to become this patron of female prisoners. A seminary dropout, he was a worldly young man, light-hearted and ordinary. He got a good job with the civil service and fell in love with and got engaged to a young woman named Cecile. His parents, far from what most parents we have read about in these pages, actually wanted him to be a priest and pulled strings to have him transferred, hoping the romance would die a natural death. (Of course, a lot of it had to do with the fact that Cecile was poor and low-class, though of the highest reputation.) Alcide was devastated, but was obedient, and said a secret prayer that a sign be given him if his old intention to be a priest was in fact God's will. Well, be careful what you wish for! Not long after, his fiancee died! Not only that, but his mother and foster mother (he'd been raised in the South of France by this woman for the first four years of his life for the sake of his health) died also, all within the space of a month. He took it as a sign that no human person on earth could truly make him happy, but God alone.

He joined the Dominican order in 1857. He suffered a crushed finger and a bone malady soon after entering the order and spent a lot of time in the infirmary, praying. A relic of St. Mary Magdalen was taken to the basilica at St. Maximin, where he was, and he developed great devotion to this woman of love. He conducted retreats at the local prison in Cadillac and entrusted the women with these two thoughts:
1) What God wants more than all else is to be loved; and,
2) God does not ask us what we were; He is only interested in what we are today.
Some of the women were so moved by this, they desired to commit their lives to God in a special way once they got out, but there was no order that would take them. Father Lataste, under the mistaken idea that St. Mary Magdalen was Mary of Bethany and that she was a "reformed sinner," had the noble idea of founding this new order himself under the name "Sisters of Bethany." A radical idea, this plan of his was met with scorn and distaste -- some thought him mentally ill -- but Father fought for it and lived to see it brought to fruition. With the help of a platonic female friend, Sister Henry Dominic, he formed the order with the newly-freed inmates, who devoted their lives to contemplation and prison ministry. Now there are a number of houses, and are not made up exclusively of former prisoners, but women from all walks of life.

Father John Joseph Lataste, pray for us.

Today March 9

Today, besides being the Fifth Sunday of Lent, is the feast of St. Vitalus, whose name means "lively," or "full of life," and so he was. He was a very early saint, a knight to a man named Paulinus. He had a wife Valeria (who was herself a martyr), and two sons, Gervasius and Protasius. This layman, who had a nice, respectable, middle-class kind of life, risked it all at the trial of the physician Unicinus. This man, tortured and wavering, was about to sacrifice to idols, when Vitalus spoke up: "O doctor and brother Unicinus, you have made a practice of curing others, do not now kill yourself with an eternal death! You have come to the palm by caring for the sufferings of many. Do not lose the crown prepared for you by God!" Well, the man recanted his (imminent) apostasy and abjured the sacrificing to the gods and the eating of the meat so sacrificed, but it cost Vitalus a great deal: first his freedom and then his life. See, nobody knew he was a Christian at that point (aside from his family and close circle of friends), and Paulinus turned him in to the authorities.

A pagan priest had him stretched on a rack and when that didn't sway him, had him buried alive in a cistern dug by a palm tree, where he sank into the mud to die. (Kind of like Jeremiah.) Not long later, it was thought that the priest himself was possessed by demons and was pushed -- or jumped -- into the river and drowned. Vitalus died during the reign of the Emperor Nero, which began in the year 52.

Brave St. Vitalus, help us to defend the truth and speak it.

Today March 8

Today is the feast of the wonderful, the challenging St. John of God (1495 - 1550). First of all, let me say that I love John of God, because, among other things, he is the patron of booksellers. What would we do without booksellers -- good, wholesome, scholarly Catholic booksellers? He is also (with Camilllus de Lellis) the patron of hospitals, the sick, and nurses, because he was himself a nurse, a hospital administrator and a mentally ill person! Or at least that is what people assumed he was. After all, he WAS committed to an insane asylum. Why? Because he so took to heart a sermon against sin by St. John of Avila and so determined in his fervor that he was running about almost like a wild man, accusing himself of his sins and begging for penance. St. John himself rescued him from the asylum and settled him down.

He opened up his house to the neglected sick and nursed them himself. He put to use his vigor and his energy for penance in an extremely positive way. He no longer frightened the citizens of Granada. In fact, several young men joined him in his selfless cause -- to the point that the archbishop of Granada encouraged him to take a habit, organize the men, and found an order. John was reluctant to do so, but he did, and that is the origin of the Brothers Hospitallers.

He died kneeling before the altar in his sickroom, remaining kneeling totally unsupported even hours after his death! Plus a glorious and pleasant fragrance permeated the room, which is now a chapel. His funeral had to be at the Our Lady of Victory Church, since it was the only one large enough to hold all the people. When his coffin was opened a full 20 years after his death, his body was incorrupt (except for the very tip of his nose). His body has since deteriorated into bones, which were separated and distributed to many of the churches and hospitals of the Brothers Hospitallers.

St. John of God, pray for us.

Today March 7

Today is the feast of St. Paul the Simple, (died c. 339), Desert Father. He himself passed down the story of his conversion and his monastic life to the Desert Fathers, who, in the dry environment, preserved all their histories from that year to this. Paul was an ordinary layman whose wife had been stepping out on him. One day he arrived home and caught her in bed with another man. He could have responded with violence but did not. He immediately left and presented himself to Abba Anthony in the desert. As Paul was already 60, Anthony rebuffed him and told him to go home, but Paul was not to be moved. Four days he waited outside Anthony's cell. Finally, worried that Paul would die on the spot, Anthony received him as a monk. Paul, for his part, fulfilled his duties so humbly and completely that he was known as -- and called himself -- "simple." That didn't mean he was a doormat or stupid or silent or ungifted. In fact, he was given many graces.

One day he went to the monastery to make himself useful. He observed the brothers going into church. It was given to him to see the spiritual disposition of each monk as he passed. Most had bright, shining faces and happy angels, but one's soul was dark and dominated by a demon. Paul said as much (without naming names), and wept and beat his breast all the while they were in at Mass. And when they came out, he saw the previously tormented brother now whole and shining; his angel triumphant, his demon far behind. "O the ineffable loving-kindness of God!" he cried. Then the man whose heart had been converted came forward and identified himself, and testified to the truth of Paul's vision. "I am a sinful man; I have lived in fornication for a long time, right up until the present moment; when I went into the holy church of God, I heard the holy prophet Isaiah being read, 'Even though your sins are as scarlet, I will make them white like snow.' And I, the fornicator, am filled with compunction in my heart and from now on, I give my word, I affirm and promise in my heart that I will not sin any more." And the brothers rejoiced.

St. Paul the Simple, pray for us.

Today March 6

Today is the feast of St. Colette, (1381 -1447), virgin and reformer. A tiny, petite little French peasant girl, she was a delightful and attractive pixie. She was always drawn to God and filled her days with prayer . . . and even playing with animals. (That does my heart good.) Even in her later days, lambs and doves would gather around her and she could get even the shiest of birds to eat right out of her hand. Perhaps it's natural she became a Third Order Franciscan. But it wasn't a direct thing at all. She tried the Beguines first, but didn't fit in there; then the Benedictines, then the Poor Clares. Nothing. Almost as a last resort she became a Third Order Franciscan. She retired to a humble hermitage given to her by the Franciscan abbot of Corbie. It was attached to the church, and she could come and go as she pleased. First she received plenty of visitors, anxious to see such a curiosity. Later she received fewer, but many still welcomed her prayer and advice. Finally she received none at all. And all might have continued like this, had she not had a dream.

She had a vision of St. Francis himself, calling her to restore the female Franciscans (aka the Poor Clares) to their original severity. Asking for a sign, she received an unlikely one: she was struck blind for three days. Regaining her sight, she was then struck mute for three days more. She went out on pilgrimage, completely barefoot, determined to reform the order by hook or by crook.

Interestingly, she here made an error, albeit innocently. (Isn't it wonderful that saints are human?) She applied for permission to the WRONG pope. Yes, she sought authority from one who had no authority to give, Peter de Luna, pretender to the papacy, and going by the name Benedict XIII. He was the anti-pope in Nice, but the French generally acknowledged him as pope. Now equipped with what she thought was a mandate, she limped from convent to convent, preaching the idealism of the first founder of the order, St. Francis. Laughed at, ignored, spurned, she went on her way serenely, knowing she was pruning the now almost fruitless vine, preparing it to bear much fruit in future, which it did. Despite all the calumny of "realism," she WAS able to turn the Poor Clares around, to the point that even the male Franciscans reformed, embracing the poverty and prayerfulness of the Seraphic founder.

And here, too, she had a mysterious, some would say miraculous, sign to support her -- one of the most unusual in hagiographical history. Jesus Christ appeared to her mystically and gave her a golden reliquary, but unlike other examples of a heavenly "gift" that not everyone can see (think St. Catherine's mysterious golden "ring" from heaven), anyone can see this jewel-encrusted golden cross with a piece of wood in it, purported to be a fragment of the True Cross. You can see it yourself at the Monastere de Ste. Claire in Poligny, France, where Colette's remains themselves rest. Dear St. Colette, pray for us.

Today March 5

Today is the feast of St. Roger le Fort, d. 1367. He could be the patron saint of jokers, since he owes his appointment to the bishopric of Orleans to a joke. He saw all these canons clamoring for the position without realizing the tremendous duties and responsibilities that went with it, so he ribbed them as they went in. Kind of an Oh, by the WAY, "I hope the electors will think of ME on the present occasion, for I too should like to be a bishop!" (his actual words) Well, they thought he was serious, and proposed him as well. The presiding bishop rose to acclaim him, saying "Brethren, heaven and earth are witnesses that you have made the choice of Monsieur Roger for your bishop. Concurring as I do with your judgment, I declare that he upon whom your votes have fallen is the preordained pontiff [his word] of this city, for he is a man of eminent sanctity and wisdom. Assuredly this is the decision of the Holy Spirit."

In vain did Roger protest he was only joking! The people joined their voices to that of the clergy and he was drafted. (I get the impression that in the raucous old days, "the people" were a lot more involved in the choice of the bishops than they are today.) Anyway, he could hardly withstand the movement. And he did well.

Upon his (double) ordination, he freed all the prisoners and started an education fund for poor boys. When he died in his 90's, his will was found to have left all his possessions to the poor children for their education. He is best known for the raising of the Conception of Mary to a first-class feast in his diocese and encouraging its celebration by all his subjects. He was in turn bishop of Limoges and Bourges and was remembered for his pristine reputation, his piety and the miracles wrought at his tomb. Good St. Roger, pray for us.

Today March 4

Today is the feast of another Pole, St. Casimir (1461 - 1484), called "the Peace Maker," although he never really did MAKE peace, he just refused to participate in war. Perhaps he would be better called "the Pacifist." He also is sometimes referred to as the "king of Poland" or the "king of Hungary," but he never wore the crown of either country.

King Casimir IV had 13 children and Casimir was the second son -- the "spare heir" as they say -- and his older brother Ladislaus did, in fact, become king of Bohemia. But Casimir remained just a prince. And he was that rarest of saints: the unmarried layman. Few there are of saints who are not in the religious life, and fewer still who are not married. But Casimir took the "third way" of the single life,
also a vocation. He was pressured to marry, sure, but he was strong in his will to celibacy, which is, after all, the requirement for all the unmarried. And he had help to maintain that state: a profound sense of penance and self-denial (surely not easy in the lush palaces of the Polish kings). But he did it healthily and always with a smile: and no self-flagellation for him. . . . Simple meals, a hard bed, a hair shirt, but a smile for everyone.

But this unruffled state was not to last. At the request of the Hungarian aristocracy, Casimir Senior sent his son to Hungary to be their king. Casimir Junior hated to go but being obedient, he went. But when he reached the border, he was confronted in battle by the rightful king, Matthias Corvinus. And he had to make a choice: go on and fight or retreat. He was compelled by his father but he felt the cause was not sufficiently just and he gambled that the Pope himself would agree (he did). So he retreated, knowing what it would cost him in the eyes of his father. Indeed, he was exiled -- nearly disowned -- and spent the remainder of his life in the castle of Dobzki. He never again would take up arms . . . for any reason.

He died of lung trouble on this day in 1484 and is buried in Vilna, where his relics still rest in the church of st. Stanislaus. St. Casimir, pray for us.

Today March 3

Today is the remembrance of Mother Angela Truszkowska (1825 - 1899), born "Sophie". Her life was everything she desired and nothing she planned. Drawn to the needs of the many poor and weak on the streets of her hometown in Poland, this upper-middle-class girl gave all the money she was given for treats to the poor beggars. Drawn as she was to love of the Lord and contemplation, she naturally desired to be a nun, but her parents, and especially her lawyer father Joseph, wouldn't hear of it. Rather than rebelling, she obeyed and stayed home, where she taught the younger children. Without knowing it, she was being prepared for her future -- as a nun! -- in education. She kept trying to enter religious life, but met yet another setback when her beloved father became ill. She began to nurse him -- and this prepared her for her future in nursing and in hospital administration. As she took him through Germany for his health, she had a profound mystical experience at the cathedral in Cologne which made it clear that her future was NOT with the contemplative orders she had been seeking. She was serene after that.

Still at home, she was allowed to bring in a couple of orphans -- sort of as a payment for her nursing and her obedience. And this, too, prepared her for her future as head of orphanages! The two were soon joined by four more, and then by so many more that they had to move to a new location, paid for by Joseph. Angela was joined by several other girls who wished to help. Their spiritual director suggested they take a habit, and soon Angela, a Third Order Franciscan, was applying for permission to found a new congregation based on the Rule of St. Francis. They were named the Felicians, in honor of the church of St. Felix, the church where they'd take the orphans each day for Mass or for a "visit."

So, Angela soon put all her talents to good use, running the orphanage, the school, and soon a hospital. And when the order got so large it could be split up, she got the whole contemplative branch she had wanted all along. She was head of both for awhile until the time of the popular uprising against the Russian occupation (they were in the Russian sector of divided Poland). The order was disbanded as punishment for hiding refugees in false walls (and even in garbage cans!) in the hospital, even though the sisters had aided the Russians themselves. "Friend and foe alike, everyone is our neighbor," Angela had said. The "active" sisters were forced into secular dress and the contemplatives forced to join the Bernardines -- with military guards surrounding the convent! Finally, Angela received the news that the sisters -- all of them -- could emigrate to the much more moderate Austrian sector. They rejoiced and continued their good work there, even sending some sisters to America to help the Polish immigrants. All of us third generation Poles are grateful. Mother Angela Truszkowska, pray for us.

Today March 1

Today is the feast day of St. David (c. 520 - 589), bishop and patron of Wales. All good Welshmen wear leeks around their necks on this day. You ask why they do this thing. I'll tell you. I don't know. Tradition!

David, aka Dewi, was born a Welshman, his father a prince named Sant and his mother St. Non. (So he was, in fact, "son of Non.") He learned the Scriptures, knew the psalms by heart, and was known to play with doves (a dove is his symbol). He was a serious, even perhaps severe, young man. He never drank alcohol; he was nicknamed "the Waterman" for this reason. In time he became the leader of the monks, but though he was of princely estate himself, he lived as simply and worked as hard as the least of them. He'd grab a hoe and till the fields (no horses or oxen to help) himself. He founded 12 monasteries/churches throughout the kingdom of Wales, and as far as Glastonbury and Bath in England. He retired to a little abbey in the extreme southwest corner of Wales in Menevia, or Mynyw, in the vowel-challenged Welsh tongue.

St. David was prevailed upon to attend the synod at Brefi in Cardigan to address the heresy of Pelagianism which, once dead in the region, had flared up again. This heresy maintained that God's grace (and thus, by extension, the sacraments as well) was not strictly necessary for salvation -- that salvation could be "earned" through good works alone. St. David spoke so well and so eloquently, he was made bishop by acclaim on the spot. Wow! We don't do things quite that way today. The proceedings of both that synod and another he attended and wrote down have been lost, due to "age and negligence, and also in the frequent attacks of pirates who, arriving in summertime in ships of war from the Orkney Islands, had been wont to lay waste the maritime provinces of Wales." - Rhygyfarch, his early biographer.

He lived a long time and ruled wisely and well. His last words were: "Be joyful, brothers and sisters. Keep your faith, and do the little things that you have seen and heard with me." St. Kentigern, at some distance (in Llanelwy) saw his soul ascend into heaven. His relics were buried in Mynyw, now called St. Davids in his honor. The tomb is now empty; the remains were moved somewhere (probably to Glastonbury) sometime after 1346.

Today is a feast approved by Pope Callistus II in 1120 for Wales and several dioceses in England as well. St. David, pray for us.

Today February 29

Today, Leap day, we can celebrate Blessed Louisa Albertoni (1473 - 1533), laywoman. She lost her father when she was yet an infant and though her mother married again, her mother and the stepfather didn't raise her. She was farmed out to the family: raised first by her grandmother and then by two of her aunts. She had an arranged marriage to James de Cithara, also of Rome, and though she didn't choose him, she certainly grew to love him. They had three children together; then he died in 1506. She was devastated. But now she could do as she liked -- and what she liked was living the Gospel imperative: sell and give what you have to the poor. And she did so, but not all at once. (It doesn't say you necessarily have to do so all at once!) She put off her fancy clothes and many possessions and embraced voluntary poverty and a simple lifestyle. She had a unique way of giving to the poor: she'd often bake loaves of bread, baking into each varying quantities of silver and/or gold coins, and praying that the larger amounts would make it into the hands of those most in need.

She succeeded in giving away all she had and "dying broke," but she was happy and marked with profound peace of soul. She quietly slipped away from this life repeating, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." Amen. Blessed Louisa, pray for us.

Today February 28

Today is the feast of St. Angela of Foligno (1248 - 1309), third-order Franciscan. She had been a laywoman -- and a worldly one at that. She was married and had a child, and enjoyed all that the world had to offer . . . until a profound conversion occurred and a personal tragedy: her mother, husband and child all died within a short time of each other. She joined the Third order community of Franciscans -- drawn to them perhaps because during her conversion, she had a vivid dream of St. Francis.

She was not only a fervent penitent, she was a marvelously sensitive soul. She often spoke (and wrote) of her "soul's eyes" through which she saw God's goodness in creation, Christ's passion in real time, and the Trinity "as clearly as possible in this life." But she was no "ivory tower" mystic; she took her place working among the sick and homeless of Foligno, and even among the most outcast: the lepers in a local hospital. Her mystical visions informed her whole piety, in fact, her whole life -- she was aware of speaking only of God and of seeing all in relation to God; she was, indeed, preoccupied by God.

She was not immune, however, to great spiritual dryness and bitter doubt. Could her supernatural visions be of the devil? But she hung on with humble stubbornness and endured many spiritual and physical privations. She even wished she were dead. But she persevered and went on to share her deepest thoughts which, in the end, were consolations to her. She said the soul experiences God entering it with totally unexpected "fire, love and sweetness," but that there is never full assurance. The soul is illuminated and embraced.

When she died, she had the profound mystical experience of being covered in the Precious Blood (really feeling and experiencing it) and of Our Lord gently leading her into the Father's marvelous presence. It was nice of her to share this vision. Naturally eloquent, she wrote straightforwardly and well, even though she often stated that what she experienced was "beyond words." St. Angela of Foligno, pray for us.

Today February 27

Today is the feast day of St. Gabriel Possenti (1838 -1862), another saint who sought to gain sanctity through the "little way," something the Anonymous Catholic Housewife understands. Now Gabriel wasn't always so convicted; he lived a dissolute and worldly life as a young man -- and a perfectly normal childhood: he got angry, he was fussy about his food and dress, he loved entertainment, he was lively and cheerful. No visions. No self-torture. A breath of fresh air is Gabriel Possenti. But what made him change? What woke him up? A dangerous illness. He made a bargain with God: cure me and I will dedicate my life to you. He WAS cured, but, as so often happens, he got back into the swing of things and forgot all about his promise. But he was attacked AGAIN and THIS time he took it seriously.

He tried to enter the Jesuits -- he was accepted -- but he still held back. He knew, I think, that that particular order, lofty though it is, wasn't his calling. He finally decided on the Passionists (a perfect fit), with the full approval of his Jesuit confessor.

And thus began a life of extraordinary virtue doing ordinary things, a way of sanctity open to us all. Are all preachers? No. Are all teachers? No. Are all administrators? Certainly not. But all are men and all can come to holiness. For example, he put up with his illnesses and his weaknesses, he deferred to others with cheerfulness and charity, he exactly followed every rule, he did not argue or defend himself when others made fun of him (tough to do). He controlled his "warm temper" and always gave firm and honest replies to all questions; he denied himself many small pleasures (a real martyrdom, yet he was always full of joy); by a supreme act of will he stayed faithful though he was plagued by spiritual aridity and doubt. He had a great devotion to Our Lady and often prayed to her. He took her name as part of his own: Gabriel of the Sorrowful Mother. He repaired a broken statue of hers to great beauty.

He did have one incident of drama in an otherwise quiet life. When King Victor Emmanuel's forces raided Isola (the small mountain town where the Passionists had their monastery), the rector locked himself in his room and all the monks hid in the sanctuary, but Gabriel went out alone into the town. Seeing several soldiers kidnap and drag a young girl away, he confronted them. Grabbing a pistol from one of the soldiers' own holsters, he threatened to shoot them if they didn't disarm and unhand the girl. The senior officer just laughed -- until Gabriel took aim at a tiny lizard across the road and shot him dead. The soldiers dropped their weapons and beat a hasty retreat.

Not long after, Gabriel's health began to fade. He'd had a nagging cough for quite some time; now it had developed into full-blown tuberculosis. He died holding a picture of Our Lady and his last words were "Jesus, Mary and Joseph." The whole town came out for his funeral.

St. Gabriel Possenti, pray for us.

Today February 26

Today is the feast of St. Irene (3rd century), widow. She found St. Sebasian's nearly lifeless body after he'd been used as target practice by the Roman archers and she nursed him back to health. She is the subject of a beautiful classical painting by Hendrick Terbrugghen (1588 - 1629). She is shown as intent and intelligent as she removes each arrow with the care of a surgeon and the assistance of her maid. (She wasn't the platonic female friend who fished his actually lifeless body out of the sewer later after he was martyred for going back to the Romans and still refusing to worship their gods. That other Christian woman was named Lucina.) This Irene is also not the same one as Agape and Chionia's companion who was martyred with them for refusing to eat meat sacrificed to the gods and having in her possession copies of the Scriptures. (Imagine if having a Bible were punishable by death today. Oh, wait a minute. In some countries, it IS.) That Irene is celebrated on another day.

This widow woman is celebrated today, but I'm not absolutely sure she was canonized. At any rate, we can take comfort in the fact that she is honored for a single act, for, as the Master said, whatever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto Me. Amen. St. Irene, pray for us.

Today February 25

Today is the feast of St. Walburga (died 779), virgin. Although her feast day is -- and has always been -- today, her name invokes the unhallowed celebration of the witches (Walpurgisnacht, "Walburga's Night") on May 1st, we don't know why.

Walburga (aka Waldburg, or Walpurg) was the sister of Saints Winebald and Willibald, missionaries from England to the then-untamed Germany. The men went first and then when it was discovered that women were needed, Walburga went over. She lived with and spiritually directed the German women. She and her brother Winebald ran a co-ed monastery for awhile in Heidenheim and then she ran both by herself at the direction of her other brother, Willibald, then Bishop of Eichstatt. She served long and well and was noted as a medical student and physician.

That's kind of appropriate because her bones exude an oil that has curative powers even to this day, even though they are scattered among various churches in Europe (including Brussels, Antwerp, Thielt, Zutphen and Groningen.)

St. Walburga, pray for us.

Today February 24

Today is the traditional feast of St. Matthias (First century), apostle. The only reliable information we have on him is found in the Acts of the Apostles. He was a follower of Jesus from the time of His Baptism to the Pentecost and was one of the candidates (along with Joseph called Barsabus and nicknamed "the Just") to take the place of Judas. The apostles prayed to God to direct their choice and chose by casting lots (sort of akin to rolling dice). Cool. Wouldn't it be something if God could show us so dramatically in all such choices? But the time of all that is over. Instead it falls on us to do research and to use reason, though we still do pray. And I do believe that in decisions that are still unclear, God will enlighten you with a deep and persistent feeling in your heart. That, of course, implies a morally neutral choice, because it is assumed one's conscience is well-informed!

And this apostle, whose name means "given by God" was indeed a gift for the new church. He stressed over and over the importance of self-denial in controlling the flesh, a lesson he learned from Jesus Himself, and one he practiced as well as preached. He started in Judea and made his way to Cappadocia as far as the Caspian Sea. He spread the Faith wherever he went. He died in Colchis, we're not sure how, but possibly by crucifixion. His body was returned to Jerusalem and from there (in the 300s) to Rome. Dear St. Matthias, pray for us.

Today February 23

Today is the feast of St. Serinus, Desert Father (4th century). He was known as a very hard worker and Abba Job went to visit him to get some holy advice. "I am careful about what I do in the cell," said Abba Job, "but when I come out I do as the brothers do." Abba Serinus thought about this for awhile and said, "There is no great virtue in keeping to your regime in your cell, but there is if you keep it when you come out of your cell." The proof is in the trial, so to speak. It's easy to be an angel when nobody ruffles your feathers!

And he said, "I have spent time in harvesting, sewing and weaving, and in all those employments if the hand of God had not sustained me, I should not have been fed." Amen, brother. Good St. Serinus, pray for us.

Today February 22

Today is the feast of St. Margaret of Cortona (1247 - 1297), rich man's mistress. The story of how she got there, and how she got to sainthood, is a long one. Well, at least the struggle to sanctity is -- the story of how she became Arsenio's mistress is a simple and sordid one. She was a happy little peasant girl but after her mom died her father remarried and the cold stepmother had no love for the little girl. She was a "hard and masterful woman who had no sympathy with the high-spirited and pleasure-loving girl," so after 6 years of fighting, the teenager ran away from home. First she lived on her own in the village of Cortona, flirting with the village boys, whom she found she could easily manipulate. There she caught the attention of the local landowner's son, Arsenio, who persuaded the lovely 13-year-old to move in with him. For 9 years she lived the life of Riley, with plenty of food to eat and servants to wait on her, marred only by the lack of commitment on the part of her lover. Finally, one day, her life turned. Arsenio's dog returned without him, cowering and whimpering in the kitchen. He tried to get Margaret to follow him and when he did, he led her to where her lover's body lay in the woods. The sight of the dead and decaying body caused Margaret to radically consider her own mortality. She repented of her fornication and immediately took the son she'd had with Arsenio and returned to her father's house. There he and the stepmother took them in, at least until her very public penance made him nervous. When she, in church, made a loud -- and detailed! -- public confession of her illicit affair of 9 years, he threw her out.

The Franciscans of Cortona kindly took her in and placed her (and her son) in a house with two sisters, Marinana and Raneria Moscari. There she lived for years -- humbly and very penitentially: sleeping on the floor, eating coarse food, beating herself occasionally. The priests remonstrated with her, but Margaret, no shrinking violet, talked back. "Do not ask me to come to terms with this body of mine, because I cannot afford it. Between me and my body there will be a struggle until death." In which I think she has a sane approach to self-denial (one way; not the ONLY way). See, she was struggling horrifically with sexual temptation, and physical penance is just what the doctor ordered. This world cannot see the reasoning there; besides, they generally see nothing wrong with sexual temptation in the first place! But Margaret prescribed strong medicine for her disease -- and it worked. She was able to give her life wholeheartedly to God and overcome her demons, so to speak. She even reached out to others and founded a hospital for the poor in Cortona and organized interested laity, men and women alike, to support it. She died as a Third Order Franciscan, a great and worthy laywoman. Dear St. Margaret, pray for us.

Today February 21

Today is the feast of St. Peter Damian (died 1072), doctor of the church. In those (mostly) pre-abortion days, his desperate and poor mother resorted to attempted infanticide to solve the financial burden of this child -- this future bishop, doctor, and light of the 11th century! Luckily, a woman rescued him and returned him to the now-repentant mother. Who was this woman? A priest's concubine, actually.

Peter soon found himself an orphan, however, and was farmed out to an older married brother who treated him like a slave, made him live under the stairs and fed him with the swine. (I'll bet the story of the Prodigal Son, when he heard it, really moved him, since he could so identify with his sufferings!) Cold and hungry, he ran away to another brother, a priest in Ravenna, who took him in and educated him. He was so grateful he added the brother's name (Damian) to his own. He excelled in school, especially in the humanities. He graduated and became a professor, later leaving the secular life for the monastery of Fonte Avellana "akin rather to the Carthusians than the Benedictines they styled themselves." - Angelus Book of Saints.

Peter was a man on fire. He was so incensed by and opposed to the laxity and vice in his church and his world that he feared nothing in his efforts at reform. No doubt he viewed it as an act of charity to correct his bothers. He reformed two Benedictine monasteries before becoming abbot at Fonte Avellana and was called on by a succession of popes, including Stephen IX who compelled him to clean up the Curia by joining it as the now cardinal-bishop of Ostia. He did not suffer fools gladly. He opposed any self-indulgence in his fellow bishops, even the harmless habit of playing chess! He was wrong, too, when he backed two eminently more virtuous and responsible but wholly illicit pretenders to the papacy put forward by Emperor Henry III. But he supported a later real pope, Gregory VII, who shook off the imperial yoke and enacted papal reform.

He retired to his beloved Fonte Avellana in his last days. He'd treated his body horribly -- bread and water, an iron belt, self-flagellation -- and yet he lived to the ripe old age of 83! I'm beginning to think that our supposedly bad habits don't always prevent our living to old ages, or, conversely, our supposedly good habits don't always ensure a ripe old age, either! Anyway, St. Peter mellowed out a little in his last days, writing a beautiful poem on the joys of Paradise and a charming letter to Empress Agnes. Dear St. Peter Damian, pray for us.

Today February 20

Today is the feast of Blessed Francisco (1908 - 1919) and Jacinta Marto (1910 - 1920), youthful siblings and visionaries. There's a lot to say about these little saints, and the Fatima-philes certainly have: making them sort of plaster poster children for Marian devotion and/or the coming apocalypse. I won't do that, but I won't portray them inaccurately: they WERE the unnaturally reverent and penitential figures they are portrayed to be, but only AFTER their unique Marian visions (once a month on the 13th from May to October 1917). They were entirely normal and delightful children -- Jacinta was very competitive and lively and loved to dance, her brother Francisco was easygoing and animal-loving and musical (he'd play flute while others danced). The fact that they gave up all that after their first encounter with the lovely lady dressed in white doesn't negate the fact that they were once as I described. After the vision of hell, particularly, Jacinta was subdued, downcast and ascetic. Francisco focused more on the pain of Jesus on the Cross and the great desire to comfort Him. Now I'm a great one for penance and especially giving up or "offering up" things, but how wearing tight and painful rope belts around your waist helps Jesus kind of escapes me. Even the lovely Lady admonished them not to wear them at night since they were unable to sleep for the pain. (But then how is the DAY wear of these torture devices helpful? I'm not exactly sure.) Besides, they had plenty else to offer up in reparation for their own and everybody else's sins: the disbelief and even spankings from their parents, the arrest and threats from the anti-clerical governor, the over-enthusiastic crowds that never gave them a moment's peace. This was especially hard on Francisco, a very solitary little soul.

Francisco enjoyed visiting the Blessed Sacrament and his visits there, lasting hours on end, showed his simple and fervent faith. He was very honest and straightforward and even at his death (from the worldwide influenza epidemic of 1918 - 1919), he directly asked his sister and cousin Lucia (also a Fatima visionary) what sins he had committed (that they remembered). Lucia remembered that he'd clung to his mother when she was trying to go on out-of-town errands and Jacinta remembered when he'd thrown stones at boys who were doing the same to him, and when he stole a dollar to buy a musical instrument (which he'd given up since the visions, of course). He'd already confessed those sins but he did so again.

He was a big rosary buff (even more so after the Lady became visible to him only after he started saying it -- she was both visible and audible to the girls) and he reminded his sister when she said Mary asked people to pray for sinners, "We are not just to pray for sinners, we are supposed to make sacrifice for sinners. We have been told to pray for world peace and an end to war." This message was cemented onto the struggle against Communism, but it's really a radical and pacifist message, one just as valid today even after the fall of Communism in Europe.

Jacinta, so mature (according to the testimony of her cousin Lucia, "She was a child only in years"), had plenty to offer up when her final illness came. At least Francisco died in their mother's arms. Jacinta was sent away to a hospital where she knew she would die all alone. It was a horrible sacrifice for the sweet little girl. But she embraced it in a heroic spirit. Her last words were: "I have seen our Lady. She told me that she was going to come for me very soon and take away my pains. I am going to die. I want the Sacrament." The nurse ran to find a priest, but when she came back, Jacinta was already dead. Her body was found incorrupt after an exhumation in 1935. Blessed Francisco and Jacinta, pray for us.

Today February 19

Today is the feast day of St. Conrad of Piacenza (died 1351), layman. He could be a patron of honesty -- or against capital punishment. Conrad was a layman (technically, he died one, too; but as I've mentioned before, being in a third order was a much bigger deal in those days). He was out with a hunting party and he ordered his servants (he was a nobleman) to flush out the prey with fire. This fire spread to the grainfields and then to the surrounding villages. Conrad panicked and took off with all his men. A beggar collecting firewood in the area was rounded up and charged with setting the fire. He was sentenced to death. Conrad, watching the innocent man being led to his execution, was seized with compunction and honestly declared that he alone was the culprit. The man was freed but Conrad and his beloved wife lost almost all their possessions, her dowry and their house (to make restitution). This enforced penance had the salutary effect of turning their minds to God; and, undistracted, they discerned the radical call to poverty -- his wife to the Poor Clares and Conrad to the Third Order Franciscans.

Nowadays the Third Orders live at home with secular employment and follow their own pursuits pretty much, but back then they lived separate from the world (with a full habit), in a hermitage (in this case). Conrad was sought out as a wise man (or perhaps as a curiosity) and so he took off from Italy (where Piacenza is) to the remote fastnesses of Sicily. Even there he could not escape visitors -- many came for his advice and prayers. When a famine was suddenly relieved after his fervent prayers, it seemed as if he were never alone! But he resigned himself to it as an act of charity. He still lived in utter poverty, but he was surrounded by grace. When the Bishop suddenly descended on him -- with all his retinue -- he was unprepared; but when the Bishop jokingly asked him what he had to offer the visitors, Conrad went in to his little hovel and returned with delicious loaves of freshly-baked bread! A decidedly homely miracle, one that warms the Anonymous Catholic Housewife's heart (and which probably any housewife can appreciate).

Conrad returned the favor and decided to drop in on the Bishop unexpectedly; when he did so, he was surrounded by a mass of fluttering birds. They stayed outside during the visit and then escorted our saint back to his home.

And when he died (of natural causes), he lay prostrate on the ground in front of a crucifix, not unlike his spiritual leader, Francis. St. Conrad, pray for us.

Today February 18

Today is the feast of St. Simeon of Jerusalem, brother of the Lord (which we as Catholics know means "kinsman of the Lord," as Aramaic had no separate word for brother, or cousin, or [more distant] male relative); died 107 AD. This man was the son of Cleophas, St. Joseph's brother, making him, as the terminology goes, a "cousin german" of Our Lord. He was named second bishop of Jerusalem after the murder of St. James the Lesser, his brother. He served wisely and well -- and providentially removed all or most of the Christians from Jerusalem just prior to Vespasian's destruction of the Temple (70 AD), and then again just before Hadrian's complete razing of it. He had led them to safety in the city of Pella, beyond the Jordan. Here (and back in Jerusalem, later) miracles abounded and the Church flourished.

Simeon was not free of suffering; he was denounced as a descendant of David AND a Christian -- which punishment was death. And though he was by this time well over a hundred years old, he endured torture and then death by crucifixion with such courage that even his executioner, Atticus, was impressed. Brave St. Simeon, pray for us.

Today February 17

Today is the (new) feast of the Seven Founders of the Servite Order (13th century). These seven guys were "preoccupied with God" despite the troubling times they all lived in -- Florence was in the midst of a civil war and rampant with a particularly evil heresy (that of the Cathari, aka Albigensians) that held the body (and all matter) was created by Evil and all spirit by Goodness (God). This belief led them to abjure marriage, sex and even physical life itself (in some cases, going as far as suicide). Anyway, these seven guys, from all walks of life, joined in prayer and resolved to remove themselves from the world. One problem, though: two of the seven were currently married and two were widowers with dependent children. I think in this day and age, they would have come to the conclusion "That ship has sailed" and decided to remain lay. (Their wives could have said, "What part of 'Til death do us part' don't you understand?"). But they thought outside of the box in those days, and perhaps the prejudice in favor of the abstinent life helped, because, according to Butler's Lives, "It was necessary to make suitable provision for their dependents; but that was arranged, with the approval of the bishop, and they withdrew from the world." They really and truly felt they had a call, and I think they did -- future events seem to bear that out -- but how devastating to the wives left behind. Children, too, but children expect to make their way in the world and not to grow old side by side with their dads. A consolation for the ladies must have been somewhat akin to that of those whose husbands reveal to them that they are homosexuals -- "Well, at least it wasn't because I wasn't doing my part! I can't compete with that. He isn't leaving me for another woman!" Small consolation, eh?

But these seven delivered themselves over to a life of prayer and penance so well, or perhaps so curiously, that they began to be overwhelmed with visitors there in Florence. They took off to the wilds of Monte Senario and there lived like animals, according to Bishop Ardingo who visited them and remonstrated with them. They listened obediently to him and asked him what advice HE would give them. He said it called for praying, which they did, and a startlingly clear vision came to them all: Mary, holding a black habit, and an angel, holding a scroll with the words "Servants of Mary." They all returned to Florence, took the habit and the name and even got ordained, all but one: Brother Alexis. They were still pretty austere, but nothing like they had been on the mountain. Two became missionaries; Bonfilius died a "beautiful death in the midst of his brothers on New Year's night 1261"; another, Buonagiunta, died in chapel when the Passion narrative of St. John was read. "It is finished" -- and it was. And Alexis, the humble lay brother, outlived them all -- the only one who lived to see their order get papal approval. They'd tried for sixty years, but time after time they were set aside or ignored. But they never gave up, they never compromised, they never joined another order (which would have been allowed), and finally they were recognized. Seven Servites, pray for us.

Today February 16

Today is the feast of St. Gilbert of Sempringham (1083 - 1189). He was discriminated against because he was not a "jock" -- those were the days of competitive chivalry, and Gilbert had neither the skill nor the inclination for jousting and (other) "manly" sports. So he was considered a weakling. But he outlived them all, surviving to just over 100 years.

He also bucked the trend by founding a religious order of women first (and originally women only, but he changed his mind and later established a male order as well). The Gilbertines, as they were called, were always primarily a women's order -- and a hard-working one at that: starting from nothing, they built 13 houses and enrolled 1500 nuns!

And he bucked the trend by supporting St. Thomas of Canterbury during his quarrel with the King (when most of the clergy were siding with the King). He did so even though he risked imprisonment and the formal suppression of his order.

His order was wonderful but died in the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII many years later. His relics survived, since they had previously been taken to France, where they repose in Toulouse, where St. Thomas Aquinas is. I think they both are probably pleased: Gilbert was a very saintly, simple and humble man, though strong and wise, and the Great St. Thomas recognized and appreciated holiness with the awesome clarity of his mind and soul. St. Gilbert, pray for us.

Today February 15

Today is the feast of Saint Claude de Colombiere, SJ (1641 - 1682). He was an interesting man. Of moderate means, his family sent him to a particularly fine Jesuit college, where he studied philosophy and excelled at it. He was, by the admission of his contemporaries, idealistic, which meant he'd have a difficult row to hoe -- and so he did, being plunged into two very different but very hostile situations. The first was in his native France, where the rigid and puritanical Jansenism held sway. (The other was later, in England, where he was preacher to the Duchess of York -- afterward queen when James II reigned -- during the time of Charles II, when Catholics were bitterly resented and discriminated against.) Claude believed that obedience was the antidote to Jansenism and he practiced it as completely as he could. He knew this heresy needed sweetness -- one of his famous homilies, that on the occasion of the canonization of St. Francis de Sales, was entitled "Out of strength has come sweetness" (Judges 14:14) -- and he both preached and practiced it.

One of the great and unusual aspects of his life was his platonic friendship with a woman, St. Margaret Mary Alacoque. It was completely serendipitous -- he was made head of the (Jesuit) house at Paray-le-Monial despite his great youth and in charge of only 4 or 5 priests despite his great gifts. The fact that he was there was revealed in hindsight to be an answer to prayer; when St. Margaret Mary, who'd prayed so long for someone to understand her, first heard him preach, she heard a voice say, "He it is I send you." And so it was. During confession, he actually told her what she was thinking and encouraged her to open her heart to him. She did, of course (though she was at first quite shy and reluctant to do so), and the rest, as they say, is history. The two agreed completely and bonded together to make devotion to the Sacred Heart widespread. It was, in their opinion, the perfect antidote to Jansenism.

He was sent, as noted, to London during a very dangerous time. He preached fearlessly and converted many Protestants. For this he was arrested, convicted and thrown into prison. He was implicated in the totally bogus "Popish plot" as schemed up by the infamous Titus Oates and would have been killed but Louis XIV, the Sun King himself, got him merely deported back to France. He was broken by his imprisonment and remained sick and weak the entire rest of his life. He was being sent down to Lyons (by way of Paray) in the hopes that the better climate might ease his sufferings, but on a last directive from his plucky female friend, he remained in Paray, where he peacefully died. St. Claude de Colombiere, pray for us.