In 1806 John Vianney walked about sixty miles to the shrine of St. Regis (June 16) at La Louvese and prayed that God would help him. He received the courage to continue pursuing his dream, but schoolwork remained a struggle.
After a turbulent experience during Napoleon’s military campaigns, John entered the seminary at Lyons. Because instruction was in Latin, he learned very little and failed his examination for the priesthood. With his reputation for being the most devout student at the seminary, the authorities made an exception for him after several years of private tutoring. They ordained him at the age of twentynine, commending him to the grace of God, who often has a special work for those who seem to lack academic promise.
The officials assigned John Vianney to a remote village with a small population, but he took his work seriously and had a significant influence among his people. Remaining there for the rest of his life, he became a popular counselor and confessor. He had a special talent for sympathetic listening. Like his Lord, he “needed no one to testify about anyone; for he himself knew what was in everyone,” as the Gospel of John says. People came to him in great numbers for spiritual direction. They came from his local community and they came from far away. Beginning about 1830, and continuing for fifteen years, on any given day, over three hundred people met with him. Even the railway provided special tickets for the trip to meet with him at the little village of Ars. He met with people for about twelve hours a day in winter and sixteen or more in summer. His time with each visitor was necessarily limited, but he had a way of touching precisely upon the important point of an individual’s religious struggle.
The love of Christ emanated from John Vianney. The French people loved him. Napoleon even sent him the medal of the Legion of Honor, which he declined to accept. During the last two years before his death in 1859, his natural ability for positive conversation attracted thousands who desired even the slightest exchange with him. Sick people sought healing. The devout tried to take a fragment of his cassock. John’s response to such activity was, “What misguided devotion!” It should be no surprise that he became the patron saint of parish priests.
AUGUST 5
Mary McKillop (1842–1909)
Enduring misunderstanding
Australia produced its first recognized saint in 1995. Mary McKillop was born in Melbourne to parents who were Scottish immigrants. She founded the Sisters of St. Joseph, whose function was to educate and help the poor. Many young women joined with her in providing rare public services in far-flung areas. She gained Australia’s respect and admiration.
She believed that her widespread organization needed independence from each local religious authority in order to work effectively. This, however, did not please the bishops. They abused their positions of power and began to interfere. As necessary as the ministry was, Mary had bypassed their authority.
Mary began to feel the pain of persecution by religious leaders whose vision of the nature of her work was less grand than her own. They complained that she was an insubordinate fanatic. She was discredited, harassed, and slandered. Fund-raising became difficult. She appealed directly to Rome. Pope Pius IX formally approved her organization, but when she returned to Australia, the persecution continued. The bishops continued to seek any cause to dishonor her. Finding none, they falsely accused her of being an alcoholic and of misappropriating funds.
Rome criticized this unauthorized effort, and completely cleared the woman known as Mother Mary of the Cross. Undaunted, the Australian bishops continued their persecution, making one last futile attempt to gain control. Again they were overruled.
These attacks on her character and faith caused Mary much distress, but she quietly accepted them, knowing that God could use the experience to help her grow spiritually. She called her persecutors “instruments in the hands of God . . . most powerful benefactors.”
AUGUST 6
Hormisdas (d. 420)
Healing diplomacy
Hormisdas is an example of a relatively obscure individual who held an important position and accomplished significant negotiation under stressful circumstances. There is no record of his personal life. His father, Justus, gave him the name of the Zoroastrian god of light and goodness.
Hormisdas became pope in 514. His experience before and after this moment is filled with difficult diplomacy. These were years of painful struggle between East and West. Partisans were heatedly contesting important issues of doctrine and church leadership. Fights broke out in the streets among the various factions. Hormisdas is credited with leading the effort that brought peace among Roman and Greek Christians. His negotiating skill certainly classifies him as one of the great referees of all time.
AUGUST 7
Victricius (d. 407)
A matter of conscience
The early history of the Christian Church contains only a few mentions of a Roman soldier becoming Christian. The Gospel of Matthew records the dramatic confession of faith by a centurion at the foot of the cross: “Surely he was the Son of God!” Perhaps this centurion became a follower of Jesus.
Victricius was a Roman soldier who became a committed Christian early in the fifth century. He believed the teachings of Christ opposed his military service. In an effort to obey his Lord, he laid down his weapons on the parade ground. As a result, the army arrested him and charged him with desertion. He received a painful Roman flogging and nearly gave his life in exchange for this expression of his faith.
Later in life, Victricius became a traveling preacher, and ultimately, bishop of the remote outpost of Rouen. The Christian Church in northern France owes much of its presence to his guidance. Because of his reputation as a peacemaker, Christians in England invited him to come across the channel to mediate their squabbles.
AUGUST 8
Dominic (1170–1221)
Simplicity
“Whoever governs the passions is master of the world. We must either rule them, or be ruled by them. It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.” So spoke the Spaniard Dominic Guzman. He is one of the few church leaders whose parents from early on encouraged Christian dedication.
In 1203, when Dominic was on a diplomatic mission to southern France, he found the people there taken in by a sub-Christian movement from the East. Spending the night in Toulouse with an adherent of the heretical group, Dominic engaged his host in religious discussion until dawn. He was able to convince him of the value of accurate belief in Christ. Because of this conversation, Dominic’s concept of his personal mission began to come together.
He planned to organize a radical new system of outreach, patterned on Christ’s words, as he sent out missionaries. “Take nothing for the journey except a staff—no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals but not an extra tunic.” Dominic’s followers were to win others by example as well as by preaching. Thorough preparation and training were required. On this basis, Dominic founded the Order of Preachers. Today, we know them as the Dominicans.
Dominic met Francis of Assisi (October 4), who developed a similar work across the Alps in Italy. The two shared ideas, and both valued poverty, but they were quite different in personality and approach. Dominic saw poverty as a simplification that provided freedom and mobility. He emphasized education in order to produce competent preachers. Some great Christian thinkers, such as Thomas Aquinas (January 28) and Catherine of Siena (April 29), were Dominicans.
Dominic did not believe in forcing belief and agreement. “You cannot defeat the enemies of the faith like that. Arm yourself with prayer, not a sword.”
AUGUST 9
Edith Stein (1891–1942)
Conversion and courage
Born on Yom Kippur in Breslau, Germany, Edith Stein was the eleventh child of a Jewish family. Her mother was deeply committed to Orthodox Judaism. As many children do when they approach their teen years, Edith declared her independence. Her extraordinary intelligence led her to question traditional faith. She decided she was probably an atheist and focused on phi
losophy. At the age of fifteen she announced she would not pray again. Her preoccupation was in discovering “the truth.” Hearing these declarations brought her mother much grief.
Edith Stein became one of the first women students at the University of Göttingen, and she did outstanding work. Her professor, Edmund Husserl, was impressed with her ability and invited her to assist him at the University of Freiburg. There she received her doctorate at the age of twenty-three.
As Edith approached her third decade she became curious about religion. While visiting a friend in 1921, she discovered the autobiography of Teresa of Avila (October 15). Immersed in it, she read until dawn, devouring every page. “This,” she told herself, “is the truth.” She received Christian baptism on New Year’s Day.
Her mother, of course, was distraught. Edith made a conscientious effort to assure her mother that her acceptance of Christ was not tantamount to rejection of her Jewish origin. Together, they attended the synagogue and read psalms.
In 1933, as Adolph Hitler gained control of Germany, Edith joined the Carmelites at Cologne, determined to share the suffering of Christ. Edith Stein became Sister Teresa Benedicta of the Cross even as the rising darkness of German anti-Semitism became palpable. Laws encouraged religious persecution to a degree never before witnessed in the civilized world. Because she was born a Jew, Edith became one of many victims of a political system that treated people as less than human.
She departed Cologne to spare her Sisters any harm that could result from their associating with her. In the Netherlands at a Carmelite house she wrote The Knowledge of the Cross. The Nazis began their occupation of Holland in 1940. Edith, along with all Dutch Jews, was required to wear a Star of David. Eventually the order came that all Christians with Jewish backgrounds who lived in the Netherlands were to be resettled in Poland. Edith and another Carmelite nun of Jewish ancestry were arrested on August 2, 1942. She took her Sister’s hand, saying, “Come on—we are on our way to our own people.”
After the misery of a detention camp in Holland, Edith began the horrible and inhumane journey experienced by many other Jews. She died in the Auschwitz gas chamber on August 9, 1942, and was officially canonized a saint in 1998.
AUGUST 10
Laurence (d. 258)
Inspiration for legend
Laurence is an example of a saint from the early years of Christianity who has accumulated a large and colorful story contributed by pious imaginations. No one doubts that he was a faithful Christian who died a martyr in Rome in the year 258. His popularity resulted in five Roman basilicas bearing his name, including one that was constructed over his tomb. Great paintings, stained glass, and structures immortalize him in many nations.
Scholars discount the legendary report of his execution, but the story is remarkable and merits retelling. A Roman civil official heard a report that Laurence was selling the church’s valuables to help support the poor. Assuming that the church had great wealth, he gave Laurence three days to gather the church’s valuables and then to follow the teaching of Jesus by giving to Caesar what was Caesar’s.
Laurence brought together Rome’s poor and outcast. He assembled this motley crowd in front of the official, presenting them as “the treasure of the church.” This resulted in a spontaneous sentence of slow death by roasting on a gridiron. Instead of being in agony, Laurence turned his execution into a joke. After thoroughly broiling on one side, he requested his executioners to turn him so that he might be evenly cooked. Eventually he announced that he was done and they could begin eating. After praying for the conversion of Rome to Christ, Laurence died.
Widespread high regard for Laurence over many centuries points to a powerful and inspiring spirituality.
AUGUST 11
Clare of Assisi (ca. 1194–1253)
Blessed influence
While Clare will always be associated with Francis of Assisi (October 4), she is a significant and inspiring personality in her own right.
Human society was experiencing remarkable change when Clare was born in Assisi. Rural people were moving into cities. Commerce and property were dominant motivators. Clare’s successful family was in the upper social strata. In twelfth-century Italy, the rules and expectations of marriage were different from our own. Girls from wealthy homes were obligated to marry wealthy boys, the oldest child first. Parents often pressured their girls to marry for good business connections. It was not unusual for a girl to mary at age fourteen. For reasons of her own, Clare refused to marry the man chosen for her by her uncle.
Because of the absence of details regarding Clare’s early relationship with Francis we can’t be sure, but since she lived in sight of the cathedral of San Rufino it is highly probable that she heard him preach. The message of the young man who embraced poverty in the spirit of Christ resonated with her soul. Clare sought an opportunity to discuss this privately with Francis. Their secret conversation sharply focused her strong personal spirituality.
On the night of March 18, 1212, she ran away from home. Francis and his Brothers welcomed her to the Chapel of our Lady of the Angels, about a mile away. Here she exchanged her rich girl’s clothes for a sackcloth tunic tied with a rope. She took temporary shelter in a Benedictine convent.
Clare’s family and friends tried to talk her out of it. In a moment of high drama, they attempted to drag her away from the altar. After successfully resisting them, she relocated to the nunnery at Mount Subasio. Her fifteen-year-old sister, Agnes (November 16), joined her there. That such young girls were accepted as nuns over family objections can be dismaying to our contemporary society, but society and culture in thirteenth-century Italy were radically different from our own.
The example of Clare’s life, the clarity of her mind, and the force of her spirit resulted in abundant and widespread good. Her influence blessed individual lives. Her own mother and the daughter of the king of Bohemia (June 8) also joined with her. She established monasteries in Italy, France, and Germany. Because of the severity of the asceticism practiced by her community, others looked upon them with disdain. The members of her community went barefoot, slept on the ground, were strictly vegetarian, and spoke as little as possible.
Clare’s health suffered because of her deprivations. Francis and the bishop of Assisi insisted that she eat a little bread every day and encouraged her to sleep on a straw mattress. As a result she wrote later that “our bodies are not made of brass,” encouraging others to take care of themselves by eating and resting in a responsible manner. In fact, she was feeble for the final twenty-eight years of her life, dying on August 11, 1253.
The spiritual legacy of Clare of Assisi endures to the present day. She shines a particularly clear light on the profound possibilities of prayer. Legend reports that her face glowed with cheerfulness after she had spent a time in prayer. G. K. Chesterton has a wonderful page in his biography of Francis that describes a discernable aura glowing around the chapel where the two prayed together. Many consider this first Franciscan woman to be the most faithful of them all.
AUGUST 12
Euplus (d. 304)
Written on the heart
An ancient text preserves the story of an enthusiastic early Christian, Euplus, who was martyred in 304. This was a time of persecution by the Roman government.
One day the shouting of a man on the street outside rudely disturbed the quiet of the governor’s court at Catania, Sicily. It was Euplus, and he was calling out, “I am a Christian! I am willing to die for being a Christian!” The governor asked his guards to bring him inside.
He was carrying a book of the Gospels when he appeared before the governor, who began to interrogate him.
“Is that your book?”
“You see it in my hand.”
“Who has taught you these things?”
“I learned it all from our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
The governor locked Euplus away in prison for three months and then had him returned for another questioning.
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“Do you still have the forbidden writings?”
“I do.”
“Where are they?”
“Inside.”
“If you still have them, bring them here.”
“Inside,” Euplus replied, pointing to his heart.
Infuriated, the governor ordered him to be tortured until he agreed to make a sacrifice to the Roman gods. The governor gave Euplus yet another opportunity to recant. Refusing to renounce his faith, he was sentenced to be beheaded.
AUGUST 13
Pontian and Hippolytus (d. ca. 235)
Strength and courage
Many of the saints from the early centuries of the Christian Church surrendered their lives for their faith. Most were common people; some were in positions of responsibility and authority, such as Pontian, Bishop of Rome, or Pope, from 230 to 235. The Roman Emperor banished him to Sardinia, where inhumane treatment and forced labor in the mines destroyed his life.
His successor, Hippolytus, is a puzzle to students of history. We should not identify him with the well-known writer with the same name. His period of leadership was brief. He died a martyr in exile on the same island as Pontian.
When the years of persecution had passed, their remains were returned home and interred with respect.
AUGUST 14
Maximilian Kolbe (1894–1941)
Dying for another
Another victim of Nazi Germany, Maximilian Kolbe is one of the most remarkable saints of modern history. He was born in Poland in 1894 and became a Franciscan monk as a teenager. After being ordained a priest and serving a small parish for several years, Kolbe became the director of one of Poland’s great publishing houses. One of his journals had a circulation of 800,000.
When the Nazis invaded Poland in 1939, Kolbe worked diligently to protect many Jewish refugees. The Nazis arrested him and sent him to Auschwitz in 1941. At this notorious death camp, the priest labored to set an example of faith and hope to the other prisoners. When a prisoner escaped, the camp’s commandant ordered that ten of the inmates of cellblock 14 be selected for retaliatory punishment. The Nazis would lock them in an underground bunker until they starved to death. One of the randomly selected ten, Franciszek Gajowniczek, began to weep. “My poor wife and children! I will never see them again!” Kolbe stepped forward and offered to take his place. “I wish to die for that man. I am old; he has a wife and children.” When the deputy commandant asked him to identify himself he responded simply, “I am a Catholic priest.” The startled commandant let him take Gajowniczek’s place.
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