A Marriage Saved In Heaven

A Marriage Saved in Heaven: Elisabeth Leseur's Life of Love by Robin Maas, Ph.D.

The name Elisabeth Leseur is unknown to most American Catholics; but the English translation of her remarkable journal, long out of print, is once again available. The recent release of a beautiful new paperback edition by Sophia Institute Press provides occasion for rejoicing, for this French housewife's spiritual odyssey is sure to give hope to the countless Catholic wives in this country whose suffering mirrors her own. For several years I have assigned Elisabeth Leseur's journal to my students at the John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and Family. Without exception, they are stunned by what they read and are deeply moved.

Many American women will find Elisabeth Leseur's writings psychologically inaccessible, for they witness to a vision of marriage and an experience of silent, sacrificial love for which our contemporary culture offers no explanation or support. At a time in history when women feel they have a right to personal fulfillment in both the major spheres of their lives - domestic and professional - this particular life may register with many as an enigma and a rebuke, for it reminds us that our personal ambitions are narrow and impoverished, lacking the luster and verve of the heroic.

Married in 1889 in Paris, Felix and Elisabeth Leseur were both from relatively prosperous and cultivated backgrounds. They and their impressive circle of friends were part of an intellectual elite who indulged themselves in a constant round of receptions and soirees, evenings at the theater and frequent travel abroad. The young husband was a medical doctor, and like so many ardent suitors, Felix had promised his fiancée that even though he was no longer a believer-having lost his faith in medical school-he would always respect her Catholic piety and never interfere in her practice of the Faith. Elisabeth was attractive, good-natured and intellectually curious. A lover of all the arts, when she was not busy entertaining or being entertained, she pursued her own intellectual advancement through self-directed study projects, mastering Latin, English and Russian.

Indeed, this was a couple that seemed to "have it all." To look at the handsome newlyweds one would never guess that the relationship would soon be permeated by the deepest and most hidden psychological anguish imaginable; and even more astonishing was the survival of their affection for one another in the midst of a massive failure of communication of the sort that would topple most middle- class marriages today.

The Cross of Spiritual Isolation

At the time of her marriage, Elisabeth Arrighi Leseur could be fairly characterized as a sincere but somewhat conventional Christian. There was no particular reason, given her background, for Felix to expect the kind of spiritual seriousness that emerged in her early thirties, just as there was no reason for Elisabeth to expect the dramatic change of attitude that developed in her husband not long after their marriage. From a staunchly Catholic family, the Jesuit-educated Felix was able to discard his religious formation surprisingly quickly under the pressures created by his own professional and social ambitions. Originally willing to tolerate what he himself had left behind, Dr. Leseur soon came under the influence of anti-clerical friends and adopted their attitude of militant resistance to Catholicism. His innate capacity for zeal came to full bloom in his conversion to atheism and the subsequent efforts he made to evangelize his wife.

Felix began to undertake a study of polemical anti-Catholic literature in earnest and in his enthusiasm thrust much of it upon his wife. Soon, it began to take effect. Elisabeth came to have serious doubts and started to look favorably on the arguments of liberal Protestantism, positions which Felix gladly endorsed since he saw these as only a short step away from radical agnosticism. One work in particular, Renan's History of the Origins of Christianity, he expected to produce the much desired coup de grace that would demolish the last remnants of his wife's religious convictions. To his surprise and dismay, the effort backfired:

. . . thanks to divine Providence, the very work that I thought would accomplish my hateful object brought about its ruin. Elisabeth . . . was not deceived by the glamour of the form, but was struck by the poverty of the substance . . . . She felt herself approach the abyss, and sprang backwards, and from then on she devoted herself to her own religious instruction.1

Elisabeth's reeducation in the Faith, which she herself planned and implemented, consisted of an extensive reading program devoted to the New Testament and the writings of the saints. Her husband's eager efforts to sway her had taught her the arguments; her own program of study gave her the background to reply confidently. Thus the net effect of Felix's attack on Elisabeth's Catholicism was to ground her much more firmly in her faith than she had ever been before.

Furious at this unexpected turn of events, Felix redoubled his efforts to get his wife to see the light, but there was an unmistakable change in Elisabeth that even her frustrated husband could not ignore. He saw her faith become

a new thing, unassailable, unshakable, and radiant, opening henceforth to her the way to the sanctification in which she was so marvelously to progress. Her ascension to God had begun. And this faith "that could move mountains" had been set by God upon the firmest rock of all-that is, upon suffering.2

In Elisabeth's case, the primary source of her suffering was her marriage, but as we shall see, it had nothing to do with having married "the wrong person" or in the death of marital love. The radical tension between husband and wife over the issue of religion was to be a constant, implacable reality in this marriage, and a source of unremitting pain for Elisabeth. The following entry captures accurately the poignant nature of the isolation she endured: "I thirst for sympathy, to bare my soul to the souls that are dear to me, to speak of God and immortality and the interior life ..."3

Elisabeth confides to her journal the acute pain she suffered when not only husband but friends as well attacked or made light of what she treasured in her heart:

Bitter suffering of an evening spent in hearing my faith and spiritual things mocked at, attacked and criticized. God helped me to maintain interior charity and exterior calm; to deny or betray nothing, and yet not to irritate by too rigid assertions. But how much effort and inner distress this involves, and how necessary is divine grace to assist my weakness!4

That a young wife should be deeply wounded-and angered-by such a betrayal is to be expected. What is remarkable here is Elisabeth's capacity to make use of her suffering for the benefit of those who inflicted it on her. Where human nature seeks just reparation for pain inflicted, Elisabeth is unwilling to indulge that very natural demand; nor will she simply suffer. Instead, she "spends" that pain to benefit those who caused it. Immediately following her description of her distress, she adds this plea and a resolution:

My God, wilt Thou give me one day. . . soon . . . the immense joy of full spiritual communion with my dear husband, of the same faith, and, for him as for me, of a life turned toward Thee? I will redouble my prayers for this intention; more than ever will I supplicate, suffer, and offer to God Communions and sacrifices to obtain this greatly desired grace.5

An Apostolate to Souls

Felix recalls that when asked to inscribe a motto in the day-book of her beloved younger sister, Elisabeth had written the following: "Every soul that uplifts itself uplifts the world." He continues, "In that profound thought she defined herself."6 This message to someone she loved presaged what was to become the leitmotif of her own life and the meaning of her personal mission as she understood it.

While still a young woman, Elisabeth had come to the conclusion that the popular conviction that for activity to be valuable it must have a widespread and measurable social impact was mistaken. Aware of the profound and transformative action worked by grace in the depths of each soul, she claims to "believe much more in individual effort, and in the good that may be done by addressing oneself not to the masses but to individual souls. The effect one can exert is thereby much deeper and more durable. . ."7 In one of her earliest journal entries she voices an aspiration that will mark the special character of her apostolate: "I want to love with a special love those whose birth or religion or ideas separate them from me; it is those whom I must try to understand and who need me to give them a little of what God has placed within me."8

One thing God certainly gave Elisabeth Leseur in abundance was a profound empathy to the sensitivity-and fragility-of individual souls. Thus she accepted as her special task to learn, first, to understand those who, so different from herself, took delight in abusing what she loved; and second, to love these same souls. Moreover, she must love them "for themselves alone and for God, without counting on a single recompense or sweetness, simply because they are souls and because Christ, the adored Master, in looking upon them . . . uttered. . . : 'I will have pity upon the multitude.'"9

Her prayers for a productive apostolate were certainly answered, for in the end, a great multitude were blessed through their encounters with her. The passing of time and the addition of trials in this woman's life were consistently accompanied by resolutions such as the following:

To go more and more to souls, approaching them with respect and delicacy, touching them with love. To try always to understand everything and everyone. Not to argue; to work instead through contact and example; to dissipate prejudice, to reveal God and make Him felt without speaking of Him; to strengthen one's intelligence, to enlarge one's soul. . . ; to love without tiring, in spite of disappointment and indifference. . . . Never to show the wounds that are caused by certain hostilities, declarations, or misunderstandings; to offer them for those who cause this suffering.10

This craving to give what she herself almost never received becomes the means through which Elisabeth's personal purgation proceeds. Towards the end of her life this desire burns through her entire being like an invisible flame:

To learn from the Heart of Jesus the secret of love for souls and deep knowledge of them: how to touch their hurts without making them smart and to dress their wounds without reopening them; ... to disclose Truth in its entirety and yet make it known according to the degree of light that each soul can bear. The knowledge required for for the apostolate can be had only from Jesus Christ, in the Eucharist and in prayer.11

The Highest Form of Action

Although for Elisabeth no physical or additional emotional suffering could compete with the pain that Felix's spiritual alienation caused her, along with her lifelong sorrow in not being able to have children, she met with and was forced to endure suffering in almost every area of her life. Unbeknownst to most of her friends-but not to her physician husband-she fought a constant battle with a variety of physical afflictions.

Eventually Elisabeth's physical suffering made it increasingly difficult for her to leave the house, let alone maintain the active involvement with socially worthy charitable causes she had previously enjoyed and continued to support financially. Living with these severe constraints, she came to see that her suffering, rightly used, could be a source of formidable power.

Trying to explain this to a friend whose very active husband was facing the prospect of blindness, she wrote:

I know by experience that in hours of trial certain graces are obtained for others, which all our efforts had not hitherto obtained. I have thus come to the conclusion that suffering is the highest form of action, the highest expression of the wonderful Communion of Saints, and that in suffering one is sure not to make mistakes (as in action, sometimes) - sure, too, to be useful to others and to the great causes that one longs to serve.12

Again, we see an attitude that strikes at the heart of contemporary assumptions about how a work of value can be accomplished in the world, especially by a woman. The demand for the freedom to be actively involved in worthy projects (if not actually in charge of them) has become a predominant theme for modern women; yet here is someone who claims to have found the secret of personal effectiveness in a form of action that far transcends the only type of involvement that most of us can imagine. Indeed, a life consisting of constant physical pain, emotional suffering and undiminished social obligations would not appear to offer much scope for a late-twentieth-century woman who is zealous to accomplish some great work for the world. Yet as Elisabeth's body steadily weakened, her convictions about how souls are captured for God were just as steadily confirmed and clarified:

When we feel impotent against hostility and indifference, when it is impossible to speak of God or the spiritual life, when many hearts brush against ours without penetrating it, then we must enter peacefully into ourselves in the sweet company that our souls never lack; and to others we must give only prayers and the quiet example of our lives and the secret immolation which makes the most fruitful apostolate.13

As we have seen, Elisabeth's generosity of spirit and sensitivity of soul created in her a space large enough for each person who entered her life and a willingness to love and respect them all by meeting them where they were.

But in many cases, this level was far below the higher reaches towards which she was herself drawn. Thus, when she would much prefer to be praying or studying in solitude, she would instead willingly converse with husband or friends about a host of things of only secondary importance, at the same time refraining from mentioning those subjects which spoke to her own deepest interests and needs, since she knew this would provoke alienation or ridicule.

While the modern preoccupation with "personal authenticity" would quickly condemn such a strategy, it is important to recognize that there is no effort here to pretend that what she detests has great intrinsic worth and that somehow she must either learn to appreciate its value or resign herself to inevitable suffering. What interests her is the soul itself, and so the hidden effort she makes to accommodate herself to the needs and interests of each person she encounters is not a form of passive acquiescence. For her this was a gesture of love, an intentional and active apostolate, a reaching out to souls in desperate need of what she loved and wanted to offer openly but could not because of the dread it inspired in unconverted hearts. It was the simple power of her own, God-possessed presence she learned to rely on in these encounters, and, in the end, it was to have an enormous impact on many souls, including the one whose resistance hurt her the most.

The soul whose well being obsessed her was, of course, Felix's own, and she never stopped praying for his conversion. She came to recognize that any deliberate efforts to bring about his conversion would be doomed to failure. The change she so ardently longed for in Felix would be God's work entirely; in the meantime, she must love and not give in to temptations to self-justification that might only serve to make that work more difficult.

The Conquest of Love

The power of Elisabeth Leseur's freely-embraced apostolate of suffering, born of her love for a soul in grave danger of being lost, was finally manifested in the life of Felix Leseur. The first signs that it was having its desired effect came in a cessation of hostilities as Felix found he could no longer ignore the growing and unmistakable evidence of sanctity in his wife. Several years before her death he found his attitude toward her persistence in the Faith softening:

When I saw how ill she was, and how she endured with equanimity of temper a complaint that generally provokes much hypochondria, impatience and ill-humor, I was struck to see how her soul had so great a command of itself and of her body; and knowing that she drew this tremendous strength from her convictions, I ceased to attack them.14

Then, in 1911, while Elisabeth was recuperating from a difficult operation, Felix accompanied his wife on a pilgrimage to Lourdes. Expecting to see only "hucksters in the Temple," he was taken completely by surprise when, unobserved, he witnessed Elisabeth praying at the Grotto, apparently levitating.

I had before my eyes the spectacle of something that evaded me, that I did not understand, but which I recognized clearly as being "the supernatural," and I could not withdraw my eyes from so moving a sight. I returned from Lourdes troubled by what I had seen and felt in that land of miracles. Oh, I was certainly still a rationalist, on the surface at any rate-deeper down, Elisabeth acted upon me without my perceiving it; and this action grew stronger during her last illness. I could never weary of admiring her moral force in the midst of a real martyrdom.15

At the time of Elisabeth's death (from cancer), Felix made another dumbfounding discovery in the vast scope of her spiritual outreach, evidenced in a huge correspondence with people from all walks of life and of whose existence he had had no inkling. Amazed, he watched what seemed like a never-ending stream of visitors come to visit Elisabeth during her last days, and an even greater number of entirely unknown mourners file past her body prior to the funeral. He reports that following the outpouring of grief at the funeral he heard that the attending clergy asked in astonishment, ". . .who was this woman? We have never seen such a funeral before."16

It was not until after her death, when Felix discovered, read, and reread her journal and a document she entitled her "Spiritual Testament," that he realized what was working in him was the direct result of Elisabeth's own self-conscious offering of her life to God for his conversion. This realization was one of those momentous revelations that overturns what has been in an individual's life to make way for the new:

... a revolution took place in my whole moral being. I understood the celestial beauty of her soul and that she had accepted all her suffering and offered it - and even offered her very self in sacrifice - chiefly for my conversion. ... Her sacrifice was absolute, and she was convinced that God would accept it and would take her early to Himself. She was equally persuaded that He would ensure my conversion.17

By the spring of 1915 Felix's conversion was complete, and he soon decided to publish his wife's journal. He had found in this document, the meaning of her life and, finally, he felt the full extent of her love for him.

A New Vocation of Love

The story of Felix Leseur does not end with his conversion. The power of the love with which he was loved continued to work in his life in the most surprising of ways. The very same zeal that had been focused on Elisabeth in an effort to get her to apostasize came to the surface once again in Felix's life, but in a vastly altered and purified form.

Two years before her death, Elisabeth and Felix had what would prove to be a fateful conversation in which they speculated about what each would do when the other died. Elisabeth's response was: "I know you. I am absolutely certain that when you return to God, you will not stop on the way because you never do things by halves. ... You will some day be Pere Leseur."18

Indeed, Felix had thrown himself back into the faith of his childhood with fervor, reading the Gospels and the books in his wife's library, going to daily mass, and even becoming a Dominican Tertiary.

Elisabeth was right. Felix conceived a desire to become a Dominican priest. His Dominican director said no, dismissing his request as evidence of the inordinate zeal of the new convert. But with the same persistence with which he once attacked his wife's faith, Felix persisted in his quest for the priesthood. In the fall of 1919, at the age of fifty-seven, he became a novice in the Order of Preachers. At the age of sixty-two he was ordained.

Married for twenty-five years, his priesthood would cover a span of twenty-seven years. Much of his time as a cleric was spent speaking publicly throughout Europe about his wife and her apostolate. Eventually he was given the task of petitioning Rome to begin the process of her beatification. Pere Leseur died in 1950 after several years of hospitalization. When an inventory of his room was made, "they found only his breviary and his rosary."19

Felix Leseur discovered that under his very roof a life had been lived the meaning of which had entirely escaped him. He had witnessed much suffering without guessing that it was he who had benefited most directly from it and would continue to be the chief beneficiary of that life's redemptive value. The life of Elisabeth Leseur was a life of love, a vivid testimony to the possibility of loving totally despite the absence of every opportunity for personal fulfillment and meaningful "activity" as the world understands these things. This was a life that completely changed another life - perhaps many lives - because it was willing to open itself fully to the possibility that in her and through her own pain and loss, God could do the loving.

Dr. Robin Maas teaches at the John Paul II Institute for Marriage and Family in Washington, D.C.

St. Papias

Time Period: 2nd Century (A.D. 130)
Position: Bishop of Hierapolis
Location: Asia Minor
Important works: Explanation of the Sayings of the Lord
Language: Greek

St. Papias received the doctrines of the faith through acquaintances of the Apostles.

Here's a brief selection...

When Mark became the interpreter of Peter, he wrote down accurately whatever he remembered, though not in order, of the words and deeds of the Lord. He was neither hearer nor follower of the Lord; but such he was afterwards, as I say, of Peter, who had no intention of giving a connected account of the sayings of the Lord, but adapted his instruction as was necessary.

Note: Mark is our earliest recorded gospel in Greek. (The Bible is out of order chronologically, it's true!) The earliest gospel then, being Peter's words. Peter, our first Pope! Cool, huh?

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St. Polycarp of Smyrna

Time Period: 2nd Century (A.D. 70-156)
Position: Bishop of Smyrna
Location: Smyrna
Important works: Letter to the Philippians
Language: Greek

St. Polycarp is considered one of the Apostolic Fathers having been a hearer of St. John the Apostle. He is a contemporary of St. Ignatius of Antioch. He died a martyr in 156 A.D.

If I ever have a son, his middle name is Polycarp. He is one of my favorite saints because he's got attitude. According to St. Irenaeus, Polycarp called the heretic Marcion to his FACE that he is the "first-born of Satan." Nice.

Marcion was a gnostic heretic who rejected the Old Testament and all the gospels except Luke. Plus, he pretty much edited the rest of the Scriptures to his liking.

This reminds me of what Martin Luther tried to do more than a thousand years later.

There is a work called The Martyrdom of St. Polycarp (A.D. 155/157); the author is unknown. Here's some selections from this treasure...

When the Proconsul urged him and said, "Take the oath and I will release you; revile Christ," Polycarp answered; "Eighty-six years I have served Him, and He has never done me wrong. How, then, should I be able to blaspheme my King who has saved me?"

So much, then, for the Blessed Polycarp. Although he was, together with those from Philadelphia, the twelfth martyr in Symrna, he alone is especially remembered by all, and is spoken of in every place, even by the heathen...Now with the Apostles and all the just he is glorifying God and the Father Almighty, and he is blessing our Lord Jesus Christ, the Savior of our souls, the Helmsman of our bodies, and the Shepherd of the Catholic Church throughout the world.

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St. Ignatius of Antioch

Time Period: 2nd Century (A.D. 107)
Position: Third Patriarch/Bishop of Antioch
Location: Antioch
Important works: Letter to the Ephesians, Letter to the Magnesians, Letter to the Trallians, Letter to the Romans, Letter to the Philadelphians, Letter to the Smyrnaeans, Letter to Polycarp
Language: Greek

St. Ignatius lived during the reign of Trajan. He is considered an Apostolic Father because he was a hearer of St. John the Apostle. On his way from Antioch to martyrdom in Rome (the beasts in the arena...fun), he wrote seven letters which are his only extant writings.

My professor pointed out to us that Ignatius was a grown man before Peter left Antioch--he was middle-aged when Peter was still alive! Striking!

It is in Antioch where the followers of Christ were first called Christians.

An Episcopal note: (Episcopal meaning "Bishop"--not having anything to do with the Episcopalian Church as such)Rome was not involved in the selection of bishops outside of the Roman diocese until after the Protestant movement. They were usually elected by priests at the Cathedral.

Here are some selections from each of the 7 Letters:

1. To the Ephesians...

For Jesus Christ, our inseparable life, is the will of the Father, just as the bishops, who have been appointed throughout the world, are at the will of Jesus Christ. It is fitting, therefore, that you should live in harmony with the will of the bishop--as, indeed, you do. Let us be careful, then, if we would be submissive to God, not to oppose the bishop.

It is clear, then, that we must look upon the bishop as the Lord Himself.

Here's another one, this I particularly enjoy...

There is one Physician, who is both flesh and spirit, born and not born, who is God in man, true life in death, both from Mary and from God, first able to suffer and then unable to suffer, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Give ear to the bishop and to the presbytery with an undivided mind, break one Bread, which is the medicine of immortality, the antidote against death, enabling us to live forever in Jesus Christ.

Note: This recalls John 6. The Eucharist and the Resurrection are bound together. Eating His flesh results in being raised up.

2. To the Magnesians...

Take care, therefore, to be confirmed in the decrees of the Lord and the Apostles, that in all things whatsoever you may prosper, in body and in soul, in faith and in love, in the Son and the Father and the Spirit, in the beginning and the end, together with your most reverend bishop and with your presbytery--that fittingly woven spiritual crown! --and with your deacons, men of God. Submit to the bishop and to each other's rights, just as did Jesus Christ in the flesh to the Father, and as the Apostles did to Christ and the Father and the Spirit, so that there may be unity both of flesh and of spirit.

3. To the Trallians...

It is necessary, therefore,--and such is your practice,-that you do nothing without the bishop, and that you be subject also to the presbytery, as to the Apostles of Jesus Christ our hope, in whom we shall be found, if we live with Him.

In like manner let everyone respect the deacons as they would respect Jesus Christ, and just as they respect the bishop as a type of the Father, and the presbyters as the council of God and the college of the Apostles. Without these, it cannot be called a Church.

Nota bene: I believe my friend James' conversion to the Church from Anglicanism was sped up after reading Ignatius if I remember correctly. I can see why. It's pretty clear. Also, this is why Catholics do not consider schismatics Churches but rather, ecclesial communities.

4. To the Romans... (considered his most important Letter)

I love this...

Only pray for me that I may have strength both inward and outward, that I may not merely speak, but have also the will; that I may not only be called a Christian but may also be found to be one. For if I be found to be one, I may also be called one, and be then deemed faithful, even when I am no longer visible. Nothing visible is eternal.

The Letter to the Romans is a treasure. If you had to pick one, this is it.

5. To the Philadelphians...

Those, indeed, who belong to God and to Jesus Christ--they are with the bishop.

And as many as shall, in the exercise of repentance, return into the unity of the Church, these, too, shall belong to God, that they may live according to Jesus Christ. Do not err, my brethren. If any man follows him that makes a schism in the Church, he shall not inherit the kingdom of God. If any one walks according to a strange opinion, he agrees not with the passion.

Take heed, then, to have but one Eucharist. For there is one flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ, and one cup to show forth the unity of His blood; one altar; as there is one bishop, along with the presbytery and deacons, my fellow-servants: that so, whatsoever you do, you may do it according to the will of God.

6. To the Smyrneans...

Let that be considered a valid Eucharist which is celebrated by the bishop, or by one whom he appoints. Wherever the bishop appears, let the people be there; just as wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church.

Nota bene: This is the first time the word Catholic is used in print!

7. Letter to Polycarp

This is helpful for me:

Become more diligent than you are. Observe well the times. Look for Him that is above seasons, timeless; invisible, yet, for our sakes, becoming visible; who cannot be touched; who cannot suffer, yet, for our sakes, accepted suffering, and who on our account endured everything.

(Beautiful, no?)

I end with this from his last letter...

Be long-suffering with one another and gentle, just as God is with you.

May I rejoice in you always.

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St. Clement of Rome

Whatever possessed me to take two summer school classes, I do not know. I already have finals next week (God help me). I'll be blogging on the Fathers as my method of studying. Happy reading!

Time Period:1st Century; cannot be later than the 90s
Position: Bishop of Rome (a.k.a. The Pope, third successor of St. Peter)
Location:Rome
Important works: Letter to the Corinthians (A.D. 80)
Language: Greek

This is the only surviving writing of Clement. He wrote the Letter as a response to the Bishop of Corinth being overthrown and the ensuing schism. It is interesting (as well as important) to note that when he wrote this, St. John the Apostle was still alive. But since Clement, not John, was the Bishop of Rome, the Pope, the appeal went to Rome.

He writes...

And our Apostles knew through our Lord Jesus Christ that there would
be strife over the name of the bishop's office. For this cause therefore, having received complete foreknowledge, they appointed the aforesaid persons, and afterwards they provided a continuance, that if these should fall asleep, other approved men should succeed to their ministration. Those therefore who were appointed by them, or afterward by other men of repute with the consent of the whole Church, and have ministered without blame to the flock of Christ in lowliness of mind, peacefully and with all modesty, and for long time have borne a good report with all these men we consider to be unjustly thrust out from their ministration.

(Translation: Apostolic Succession !)

He continues...

It is shameful, dearly beloved, yes, utterly shameful and unworthy of
your training in Christ, that it should be reported that the very
steadfast and ancient Church of the Corinthians, for the sake of one
or two persons, is in revolt against its presbyters.

(Translation: Schism: Bad ; Unity: Good !)

Further...

You, therefore, who laid the foundations of the rebellion, submit to the presbyters and be chastened to repentance, bending your knees in a spirit of humility.

Is there really anything more I can add to Clement? He makes it very clear that going against your bishop is a no-no, what gives legitimacy to the bishop is the unbroken apostolic succession (keep in mind, this is 80 A.D.--the Bible hadn't dropped from the sky yet!), and that you put yourself in danger when you create a schism. (He writes, "By your folly you heap blasphemies on the name of the Lord, and create a danger for yourselves.") Most significantly, this is coming from the authority of the Pope, who St. John himself submits to...because he submits to Christ who gave this instruction and power in the first place as recorded in the gospel of Matthew.

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Pope St. Gregory the Great

Pope St. Gregory the Great reigned from 590-604 A.D. He is the second out of four popes to be called "the Great." His pontificate marked the advent of the medieval papacy. He is considered the fourth doctor of the Church and the founder of medieval spirituality. His feast day is on September 3. (March 12 in the 1962 calendar.) St. Gregory came from a wealthy, privileged and influential background. He was extremely well-educated and Gregory of Tours praised his education as being "second to none."

St. Gregory had a very successful public career and attained a powerful position, urban prefect, by the age of thirty. He also served as a deacon for Pope Pelagius II and later as a papal representative to the Byzantine Court.

St. Gregory was one of the richest men in Rome. Unlike his equally successful colleagues, St. Gregory used his wealth to found seven monasteries in Rome. Forsaking all wealth, he converted to the monastic life in 573 A.D. Throughout his writings it is evident that St. Gregory considered his three years in the contemplative life at St. Andrew's monastery on his family estate as the happiest of his life.

A reticent monk...

St. Gregory was elected Pope after his predecessor, Pelagius II, had surrendered to the deathly plague roaming through Italy at the time. He became the first monk to be elected to the throne of St. Peter and was extremely hesitant to lead a city cursed with plagues, famines, and wars: "Farms and houses were carried away by the floods. The Tiber overflowed its banks, destroying numerous buildings, among them the granaries of the Church with all the store of corn. Pestilence followed on the floods and Rome became a very city of the dead. Business was at a standstill, and the streets were deserted save for the wagons which bore forth countless corpses for burial in common pits beyond the city walls."

He wrote to the Emperor Maurice strongly protesting his election. While he was waiting for a response from the Emperor, St. Gregory, in reaction against the plague, organized a procession to the Basilica of the Blessed Virgin. During the procession, St. Gregory and the people saw a vision of St. Michael, which symbolized that the plague was over.

St. Gregory was unsuccessful in changing the Emperor's or the people's mind on his election to the papacy. It is said that he was so horrified at the news of his election to the Holy See that he considered escaping. There is a legendary story which tells of St. Gregory, horrified at the prospect of becoming Pope, hiding in the forest for three days to avoid consecration! Although it does not seem to be historically accurate, it makes for a dramatic story. Despite his "Great" pontificate, St. Gregory never ceased to regret his election.

"Servant of the Servants of God"

St. Gregory was the first to refer to himself as, "Servus Servorum Dei." The title has been inherited and used frequently by subsequent popes.

Once St. Gregory came to terms with his new role, the word that best describes the last fourteen years of his life and his pontificate is zeal. Although he had a brief pontificate, some consider him the “greatest of the great,” because of his numerous efficacious achievements and his personal devotion and holiness, despite his poor health.

On the political front, St. Gregory, "secured the grain supply for Rome, sent troops against the Lombards, secured defense of Naples, paid ransoms when necessary to buy off soldiers, and was eventually forced to become paymaster, defraying the daily expenses of defending Rome."

The greatest challenge St. Gregory faced politically was regarding the Lombards. He wanted to establish and maintain a peace treaty with the double aim of converting them from their heretical Arian views. His attempts at peace created tension between him and Emperor Maurice because his success would advance the political importance of Rome over the Byzantine Court. Moreover, similar to Pope St. Leo, St. Gregory emphasized Rome's premier position with the rival sees and patriarchs.

It was his involvement with the Lombards which increased the temporal power of the papacy. One is reminded of St. Leo's encounter with Attila the Hun in learning of St. Gregory's famous meeting with the Lombard king, Agilulf, on the steps of St. Peter's. A peace treaty with the Lombards was accomplished in 598 and through his diplomatic progress with the Lombards, the catholization of the Lombards was underway. This was a huge step in the final defeat of Arianism by the 7th C. (Sadly, once Arianism was over, the Islamic invasions were beginning...)

One can not discuss the papacy of St. Gregory the Great without mentioning his commitment and perhaps obsession with reforming abuses prevalent in the Church at the time. He convened a noteworthy council in Rome in the year 595 and promptly abolished acceptance of any fees for ordinations or for the granting of the pallium. He also forbade an old traditional practice of charging very high prices for burying the dead in privileged places in the churches. Other abuses he sought to correct included simony, seizure of land, privileges and ecclesiastical reforms. He wrote in a letter, “We do not wish the purse of the Church to be polluted by shameful gains.”

St. Gregory, a fearless politician and pope, had a deep and great love for the poor. Every day he invited twelve poor people to dine with him. He was criticized for leaving the treasury empty when he died because of his generosity to the poor. He was also a huge defender of religious paintings and deemed them "the books of the unlearned."

Despite these difficult challenges within the city of Rome, St. Gregory believed it was his primary duty to cultivate the spiritual life by his writing and preaching.

"Pastoralis Curae"

St. Gregory's conviction was that preaching was one of the first duties of a bishop. Thus he did not spend time building churches as other popes had and would in the future.

Thus, he was a prolific writer—preserved are 850 letters of his. One of his most important works is his book on pastoral care, which he composed for bishops. St. Gregory felt the weight of his pontificate and the responsibility he had to provide his sheep with good and holy shepherds, the bishops. He was also strongly concerned with bishops being involved in too many worldly and temporal affairs, which admittedly he struggled with himself.

Gregory the "Consul of God"

There is a story that recounts St. Gregory encountering some “Anglo” pagans to which Gregory remarked, “Ah, what a pity that the author of darkness owns such fair faces, and that, with such grace of outward form, they should lack inward grace!”

He is known to the English as "The Apostle of the Island" because he is responsible for England coming to the Faith by sending St. Augustine of Canterbury and monks to proselytize there.

Earlier, St. Gregory had planned to become a missionary to England himself despite Pope Pelagius’ reluctance in giving him permission. However, the people were determined to keep their beloved Gregory in Rome. Later, St. Gregory advised St. Augustine of Canterbury not to destroy the pagan temples in England but to re-consecrate them for Christ. In this way, he set the method for missionaries of the future.

The French historian Jean Leclerq said of Gregory's influence in the Middle Ages, "Everyone...had read him and lived by him." Further, "Gregory's concern with the moral meaning of Scripture, his concerns with suffering and evil, his attitudes defining the proper exercise of power, and his view of the centrality of the church and its sacraments all foreshadow later medieval views, as does his vision of an invisible world of demons and angels surrounding men and women in everyday life ready to wreak havoc or extend aids as executor's of God's will."

St. Gregory's poor health did not prevent him from speaking to his loved ones, his people. One of these such occasions caused him to speak with moving tenderness: “But if my mouth has been silent, do not think that my love has grown cold. It happens sometimes that, even in the midst of the occupations which hinder me, love is glowing in my heart although it can not show itself in deeds….”

His preaching, although not as brilliant and eloquent as the first "Great", “has a simplicity and familiarity that Leo does not know.”

Pope St. Gregory the Great, pray for us. +

Pope St. Leo the Great

Pope St. Leo the Great is the first of only four popes in Church history to be called "the Great." He reigned 21 years from 440-461 A.D. Of the 265 Popes, he is also one of only two popes to be proclaimed a doctor of the church. His feast day is celebrated on November 10. (April 11 in the 1962 calendar.)

His chief aim was to preserve the unity of the Church, the unity of Christendom. He is thus known to us as the "Doctor of the Unity of the Church."

In his epistle to the Philippians, St. Paul exhorts the Church to "stand firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel, and not (to be) frightened in anything by your opponents." (Philippians 1:27-28)

Leo, a true lion, was unafraid to strongly use papal power to preserve the unity of Christendom. He rightly understood that the glue that holds the unity of Christendom is obedience and allegiance to the Pope. Here are some of his last words from a letter, "the same medicine must be applied to all wounds in all places, in order that the Lord's flock may all be restored in all churches through the zeal of the shepherds, and so that through concern for charity, all Christ's sheep may feel that they have one shepherd."

Papal Primacy and Unity in Christ

Pope St. Leo the Great understood well his mission and authority in holding the office of St. Peter, the first pope.

It can be argued that the greatest thing Pope Leo did was to strengthen papal power by making a bold claim to the legitimacy of the primacy of the Bishop of Rome as the inheritance of the office that St. Peter himself was given by Christ. Leo took seriously Christ's words, "I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." (Matthew 16: 19)

The concern for unity is what motivated Leo to frequently expound the traditional position that the Bishop of Rome is the successor of St. Peter who is the visible head of the Universal Church. He saw the the bishop of Rome as a "symbol of faith in unity, a sacramental representation of the Church's being one in Christ."

For this reason, Leo strongly fought against the heresies in his day: Priscillianism, Pelagianism, Nestorianism, Manicheanism, and Monophysitism.

"Peter has spoken through Leo!:" Leo's Tome and the Monophysite Heresy

About 10 years prior to Leo's election to the throne of St. Peter, the third ecumenical council of the Church, the Council of Ephesus, had defeated the Nestorian heresy which claimed that in Christ were two persons and that Mary was the "Christokos" (Christ-bearer in Greek) and not the "Theotokos" (God-bearer in Greek). This means that she is only the mother of the human person, not the divine person. However, Jesus is one person, with both human and divine natures. The council defeated this heresy on Christ and thus rightly proclaimed Mary to be the Mother of God, since Jesus is God. (Mother of the Word made flesh, not Mother of God the Father, Creator of the Universe.)

During Leo's pontificate, another attack on orthodox Christology came through the Monophysite heresy. Monophysitism denies the two natures (human and divine) in the one person of Jesus Christ. They believed Christ had only one divine nature. In 449 A.D., the monk Eutyches and his Monophysite followers held the 2nd Council of Ephesus which affirmed this heresy. Pope Leo deemed the council a "Robber Synod," and called the true third general council, the Council of Chalcedon in 451 A.D. At the council, Leo's Tome (his book on the Monophysite heresy)was finally read (it had been ignored at the "Robber Synod") and the heresy was defeated. The bishops (only four came from the West, most were from the East) cheered, "Peter has spoken through Leo!" This cry from the (remember, largely Eastern!) bishops should be instructive for those who accuse the papacy of being a man-made or medieval invention. Four centuries after Peter: "Peter has spoken through Leo!"

Powerful words, indeed.

Leo's Tome is called, "the plain man's guide to the doctrine of the Incarnation."

Leo's role in defeating this terrible heresy was integral to preserving the traditional understanding Christ's personhood and nature. His leadership and strength also reaffirmed the primacy of the Bishop of Rome. At this council, Leo rejected the passing of Canon 28 which tried to make the Patriarch of Constantinople equal in authority with Rome.

The Lion versus Attila the Hun, the "scourge of God"

In history, the Huns are remembered as the savages they were. Attila, their leader, was known as "the scourge of God." Interestingly enough, Attila was also a learned man and was fluent in Latin. In 452 A.D., General Orestes was a Roman politician at the time and had conspired with Attila to attack Rome. Pope St. Leo persuaded Attila not to sack the great city. So impressive was this encounter with Attila, that art has preserved its memory and legacy through Raphael's work.

Another impressive, diplomatic encounter occurred when Genseric the Vandal was persuaded by Leo to spare the lives of the Romans by not burning the city. Genseric agreed and he and his men only looted the city.

It is said of Leo that during his time, "he was the only truly great historical figure in either the Church or the civil order...Pope St. Leo the Great was the one man who, by the clarity and vision of the Church as one and universal, and by the force of his own administration, did much to fashion the framework on which European civilization could grow in an essential unity."

Leo the Saint

As Pope, Leo was as fierce as a lion in proclaiming orthodox doctrines and uniformity in disciplines according to canon law. As pastor, he was as gentle as a lamb when dealing with his sheep. In a letter to Anastasius, the Bishop of Thessalonica, he writes, "Although men of priestly rank sometimes do things that are to be reprimanded, yet kindness may have more effect on those who are to be corrected than severity: exhortation than perturbation, love than power."

Like all holy and saintly men, Leo was also humble. On one of his pontifical anniversaries he expressed, "St. Peter rejoices over your good feeling and welcomes your respect for the Lord's own institution as shown towards the partners of His honor, commending the well-ordered love of the whole Church which ever finds Peter in Peter's See, and from affection for so great a shepherd grows not lukewarm over even so inferior a successor as myself."

Pope St. Leo the Great, pray for us. +

It's St. Joseph's Day!

This is a great week of feast days: St. Patrick, St. Cyril of Jerusalem, and of course, today, St. Joseph!

St. Joseph is a very special saint. He was the husband of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the foster father of the second person of the Trinity: Jesus Christ.

He is the patron of the Universal Church--he protects the Church the way he protected Mary and Jesus during his life. He is also the patron of husbands, all workers, and a happy death.

This morning at mass, the Sisters of St. Joseph (their convent is right next to the chapel where morning mass is held) visited and gave us beautiful sun catcher static stickers with the image of St. Joseph holding baby Jesus.

This is a huge holiday in the Church. Today we have a special dispensation to break our Lenten fasts and celebrate the life of this wonderful man.

From my devotion this morning:

Now let us listen to what Saint Bernard has to say about Saint Joseph's intercessory power on behalf of his supplicants: "There are some saints who have the power of protecting in certain specific circumstances; but Saint Joseph has been granted the power to help us in every kind of need, and to defend all who have recourse to him with pious dispositions."

Beloved and kind St. Joseph, pray for us.

Happy Feast Day of St. Cyril of Jerusalem

St. Cyril was a major player in the fight against the Arian heresy. He lived from 315-386 A.D.

Here's a great quote from him, regarding the Holy Eucharist:

"Since He Himself has declared and said of the bread: This is My Body, who shall dare to doubt any more? And when He asserts and says: This is My Blood, who shall ever hesitate and say it is not His Blood? Do not, therefore, regard the bread and wine as simply that, for they are, according to the Master's declaration, the Body and Blood of Christ. Even though the senses suggest to you the other, let faith make you firm."

Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul

Yesterday, January 25, the Church celebrated the conversion of St. Paul.

Yesterday, January 25, 2009, my friend Tara Hernandez entered the Poor Clares in Santa Barbara, California.

It is unlikely that for the reminder of my life I will see Tara more than once or twice. She will be cloistered and will be spending the majority of her day in prayer for the world. Her family will be able to visit her once a month (behind the cloister grill) until she takes her final vows where they will walk her down the aisle and then after her "wedding" to Christ (as we will be wedded to Christ in Heaven) she will only be able to see them four times a year (behind the cloister grill) for approximately an hour and half each visit.

Through the consecrated, virginal life she is choosing (love is choice or it is not love) to be a sign and witness to the reality of the life believers will enjoy in eternal life.

After the Great Persecution of Christians by Diocletian ended (305 A.D.), martyrdom by blood ceased in the Roman Empire with the Edict of Milan declaring the Christian Faith legal by the Emperors Constantine and Licinius. Christians were no longer shedding blood for Christ and through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit the "white" martyrdom began: the monastic movement. It started in Egypt, my mom and dad's mother country!

When we visited Egypt in the summer of 2007, we were able to visit some of these monasteries from the first recorded centuries in history. We met monks who were following in the legacy of their predecessors for 2,000 years.

The Christian Faith is either true or we are lunatics.

It must be very meaningful for my dear friend to enter the monastery on the Feast of St. Paul's conversion. She found her faith in her mid-twenties and now in her late twenties is participating in her ongoing conversion to Christ. We are saved, we are being saved, we will be saved.

Salvation is not a one-time event but an ongoing, dynamic process. Christ reminds us to always be vigilant through St. Paul's words,

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners compete, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Well, I do not run aimlessly, I do not box as one beating the air; but I pommel my body and subdue it, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified." (1 Corinthians 9: 24-27)

St. Paul, alive in Heaven, pray for us.

Tara, my friend alive on Earth, pray for us.

I will miss you.

Saint John of Damascus

Today the Church celebrates the feast of one of my favorite saints-St. John of Damascus. (c. 676-754/787 A.D.)

St. John lived between the 7th and 8th centuries and fought against the heresy of Iconoclasm. "Iconoclasts" viewed religious images of any kind as idolatrous. Against them were the orthodox "Iconodules" who regarded images as helpful in the aid of worship.

St. John brilliantly defended the veneration of images. He clarified the distinction between worshipping God and venerating His image. One prays to God himself, not a piece of wood or a mosaic. The picture is there to help focus one's prayer--very much like the Gospel accounts do. St. John's argument consisted in comparing images to the Gospel. His brilliant insight is simply this: the Gospels are verbal accounts of the Lord's words and actions, while icons are pictorial accounts. If you reject the latter, you are in danger of rejecting the former, because the content is the same.

There a lot of history behind this particular controversy. It is interesting to note that Islam may have influenced the iconoclast heretics since Mohammud taught that images were sacreligious and banned the production of them.

The 2nd Council of Nicea (787 A.D.) which was the 7th Ecumenical Council declared that the use of images in sacred art is not idolatrous. Images are used to help contemplate the divine mystery.

St. John is considered the last of the Church Fathers.

St. John of Damascus, pray for us.