Saint for the Day

• August 9 – Saint John Vianney, Curé of Ars, Confessor
  It has been said of more than one person, of more than one Saint, that they were the prodigies of their century. This is perhaps true of no one more than of the Curé of Ars. This man, who was so remarkably humble, for about thirty years saw the whole world, as it were, attentive to his virtues, the entire Christian world at his feet. He is certainly a marvel of the pastoral apostolate and sanctity. Born three years before the French Revolution into a humble and profoundly Christian family, at Dardilly near Lyons, he was at first a little shepherd, occupied also with the cultivation of the land. From his earliest years he was noted for his candor, piety, love for the Blessed Virgin, and charity for the poor. He desired to become a priest and reached the altar through his piety rather than through his talents. Lack of schooling during the Revolution had made Latin grammar virtually inaccessible to his best efforts. The bishop asked, however, whether he was pious; and when he heard that he said his Rosary like an Angel, ordained him. After a few years of parish work as an Assistant Pastor, in 1817 he was placed in charge of the parish of Ars, a small village considered backward and scarcely half-Christian. On his way there, solitary and in poverty, when he saw in the distance the steeple of the church, he knelt and prayed God to bless his ministry. His first concern was to visit his parishioners, and he soon won them over by his far-from-ordinary virtue. To their indifference to religion, then, a profoundly Christian spirit succeeded, and one saw the Lord’s day observed to perfection; under the influence of a Saint, the parish of Ars became like a religious community. Word of this transformation passed from one person to another and soon, from many surrounding regions people came to hear him, enter humbly into the confessional, and obtain miracles. These he attributed to Saint Philemena, whose tomb had recently been discovered, and whom he called his dear little Saint. He was very attentive to the beauty of the sanctuary, to the preparation of his sermons, and to the orphanage which he founded; no application was excessive where these were concerned. For himself he was unsparing, sleeping in a damp basement and persecuted there incessantly by the devil. The villagers themselves became aware of his terrible combats with the one he called the “grappin” – literally a sharp-pronged anchor – the fitting name he gave the ancient enemy. Ten years later, the reputation of this humble country priest had spread over Europe, and from everywhere there came impious scoffers, unbelievers, and libertines, as well as fervent Christians and those in sorrow; the former were converted by the thousands, the latter consoled and strengthened for their combats. He spent ordinarily from sixteen to eighteen hours daily in the confessional, in winter with his feet on an unheated stone floor; and the rest of his time in preaching, prayer, and teaching catechism in the church. He died at the advanced age of 84, despite his unrelenting penance and long-standing rheumatism, and loved “by the whole world.” Reflection: Let us pray for holy priests to bring the world on its knees to its Saviour. No intention is more important than this one. The Curé of Ars will pray with us, if we ask him to do so, and protect the sacerdotal race from the unending, unrelenting dangers which threaten it everywhere.

Sunday Sermon

• Eleventh Sunday After Pentecost ~ Backbiting

  

  “And he spake rightly.” — St. Mark vii 35

  The Gospel tells us, dear brethren, that no sooner had our Lord touched the tongue of the dumb man than he began to speak rightly. How often he has touched our tongues by coming to us in Communion, and yet how far we are from speaking rightly! It may be that we need healing more than the man of whom the Gospel tells. He had not the use of his tongue, and consequently could not employ it in the service of sin ; we are blessed with its use, and yet, perhaps, we do not sufficiently realize that God wants us always to speak rightly. The tongue wrongly used is capable of effecting a great deal of evil. St. James calls an evil tongue a “world of iniquity.” Calumny, slander, and backbiting are but a few of the many sins of  which it is the cause. Whence, indeed, come so many disputes, quarrels, and as a consequence so much animosity between those who were formerly, or who ought to be, on terms of intimacy? Ask your own experience if charity was ever wounded while you guarded against idle conversation, vain disputes,, and unkind remarks. You may be certain that if the tongue be carefully watched over sins against charity will be fewer. I am far from thinking that such faults are to be found only or indeed generally among habitual or hardened sinners. Some persons who consider themselves very pious and nearly perfect, who find it hard to collect sufficient matter for confession, do not always shun uncharitable conversations. Let them remember what St. James says: “He who offends not with his tongue is a perfect man.” No piety is solid and genuine unless it be founded upon charity, which is the queen of virtues. We deceive ourselves in supposing that we are perfect, or even really pious, if we continue to gossip about our neighbor. Sins of the tongue are often most grievous, and are often likewise irreparable in their consequences. Let us dwell upon a few such sins as offend God by reason of the injury which they do to our brother who is made according to His image. To speak badly of a person against whom we entertain an unkind feeling may seem to some people trifling or at most only venial. This is a great mistake if what we say does notable harm to him. It is no less grievous to injure our neighbor in his good name than in his property. To restore his goods is not very difficult if we still possess them or have the means of procuring others of the same value. But when there is question of repairing the injury which we have done by speaking falsely about him, then the task assumes a much greater difficulty. It is about as possible to stay the progress of a forest-fire as to prevent this fire of an evil tongue from spreading in all directions. Nevertheless, we are bound to make every effort in our power to repair the injury. We need not hope that God will pardon us unless we are so disposed. But some one will say : “I do not belong to the class that you have now described. I never say anything that is untrue of my neighbor, but simply mention to others those faults of which he is guilty.” To this I answer: ” If you do so in a grave matter, without necessity, and to those who are not concerned about the welfare of the person in question, you are guilty of the sin of slander. By whom have you been authorized to make known his failings ? Are you perfect in virtue? Would it please you if some one were to make your faults public? Do not then treat others in this way, since you are unwilling to suffer it yourself. If you have been thoughtless in the past, let the future find you more guarded. Cultivate a kind, charitable disposition towards all, even those who offend you. Weigh your words with care, think of your own sins, avoid idle conversations and gossip.