August
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
THE same year in which St. Dominic, before making any project with regard to his sons, founded the first establishment of the Sisters of his Order, the companion destined for him by heaven received his mission from the Crucifix in the church of St. Damian, in these words: ‘Go, Francis, repair My house, which is falling to ruin.' The new patriarch inaugurated his work, as Dominic had done, by preparing a dwelling for his future daughters, whose sacrifice might obtain every grace for the great Order he was about to found. The house of the Poor Ladies occupied the thoughts of the seraph of Assisi, even before St. Mary of the Portiuncula, the cradle of the Friars Minor. Thus, for a second time this month, Eternal Wisdom shows us that the fruit of salvation, though it may seem to proceed from the word and from action, springs first from silent contemplation.
Clare was to Francis the help like unto himself, who begot to the Lord that multitude of heroic virgins and illustrious penitents soon reckoned by the Order in all lands, coming from the humblest condition and from the steps of the throne. In the new chivalry of Christ, Poverty, the chosen Lady of St. Francis, was to be the queen also of her whom God had given him as a rival and a daughter. Following to the utmost limits the Man-God humbled and stripped of all things for us, she nevertheless felt that she and her sisters were already queens in the kingdom of heaven:[1] ‘In the little nest of poverty,' she used lovingly to say, ‘what jewel could the bride esteem so much as conformity with a God possessing nothing, become a little One whom the poorest of mothers wrapt in humble swathing bands and laid in a narrow crib?’[2]And she bravely defended against the highest authorities the privilege of absolute poverty, which the great Pope Innocent III feared to grant. Its definitive confirmation, obtained two days before the saint’s death, came as the long-desired reward of forty years of prayer and suffering for the Church of God.
This noble daughter of Assisi had justified the prophecy whereby, sixty years previously, her mother Hortulana had learnt that the child would enlighten the world; the choice of the name given her at her birth had been well inspired.[3] 'Oh! how powerful was the virgin’s light,’ said the Sovereign Pontiff in the bull of her canonization; ' how penetrating were her rays! She hid herself in the depth of the cloister, and her brightness transpiring filled the house of God.’[4]From her poor solitude, which she never quitted, the very name of Clare seemed to carry grace and light everywhere, and made far-off cities yield fruit to God and to her father St. Francis.
Embracing the whole world where her virginal family was being multiplied, her motherly heart overflowed with affection for the daughters she had never seen. Let those who think that austerity embraced for God’s sake dries up the soul, read these lines from her correspondence with Blessed Agnes of Bohemia. Agnes, daughter of Ottocar I, had rejected the offer of an imperial marriage to take the religious habit, and was renewing at Prague the wonders of St. Damian’s.' O my mother and my daughter,’ said our saint, 'if I have not written to you as often as my soul and yours would wish, be not surprised: as your mother’s heart loved you, so do I cherish you; but messengers are scarce, and the roads full of danger. As an opportunity offers to-day, I am full of gladness, and I rejoice with you in the joy of the Holy Ghost. As the first Agnes united herself to the immaculate Lamb, so it is given to you, O fortunate one, to enjoy this union (the wonder of heaven) with Him the desire of whom ravishes every soul; whose goodness is all sweetness, whose vision is beatitude, who is the light of the eternal light, the mirror without spot! Look at yourself in this mirror, O queen! O bride! unceasingly by its reflection enhance your charms; without and within adorn yourself with virtues; clothe yourself as beseems the daughter and the spouse of the supreme King. O beloved, with your eyes on this mirror, what delight it will be given you to enjoy in the divine grace! . . . Remember, however, your poor Mother, and know that for my part your blessed memory is for ever graven on my heart.’[5]
Not only did the Franciscan family benefit by a charity which extended to all the worthy interests of this world. Assisi, delivered from the lieutenants of the excommunicated Frederick II and from the Saracen horde in his pay, understood how a holy woman is a safeguard to her earthly city. But our Lord loved especially to make the princes of Holy Church and the Vicar of Christ experience the humble power, the mysterious ascendancy, wherewith He had endowed His chosen one. St. Francis himself, the first of all, had, in one of those critical moments known to the saints, sought from her direction and light for his seraphic soul. From the ancients of Israel there came to this virgin, not yet thirty years old, such messages as this: ‘ To his very dear Sister in Jesus Christ, to his mother the Lady Clare, handmaid of Christ, Hugolin of Ostia, unworthy bishop and sinner. Ever since the hour when I had to deprive myself of your holy conversation, to snatch myself from that heavenly joy, such bitterness of heart causes my tears to flow, that if I did not find at the feet of Jesus the consolation which His love never refuses, my mind would fail and my soul would melt away. Where is the glorious joy of that Easter spent in your company and that of the other handmaids of Christ?. . . I knew that I was a sinner; but at the remembrance of your supereminent virtue, my misery overpowers me, and I believe myself unworthy ever to enjoy again that conversation of the saints, unless your tears and prayers obtain pardon for my sins. I put my soul, then, into your hands; to you I intrust my mind, that you may answer for me on the day of judgment. The Lord Pope will soon be going to Assisi; oh! that I may accompany him, and see you once more! Salute my sister Agnes (i.e., St. Clare’s own sister and first daughter in God); salute all your sisters in Christ.’[6]
The great Cardinal Hugolin, though more than eighty years of age, became soon after Gregory IX. During his fourteen years' pontificate, which was one of the most brilliant as well as most laborious of the thirteenth century, he was always soliciting Clare’s interest in the perils of the Church and the immense cares which threatened to crush his weakness. For, says the contemporaneous historian of our saint: ‘He knew very well what love can do, and that virgins have free access to the sacred court; for what could the King of heaven refuse to those to whom He has given Himself?’[7]
At length her exile, which had been prolonged twentyseven years after the death of Francis, was about to close. Her daughters beheld wings of fire over her head and covering her shoulders, indicating that she, too, had reached seraphic perfection. On hearing that a loss which so concerned the whole Church was imminent, the Pope, Innocent IV, came from Perugia with the Cardinals of his suite. He imposed a last trial on the saint’s humility, by commanding her to bless, in his presence, the bread which had been presented for the blessing of the Sovereign Pontiff;[8] heaven approved the invitation of the Pontiff and the obedience of the saint, for no sooner had the virgin blessed the loaves than each was found to be marked with a cross.
A prediction that Clare was not to die without receiving a visit from the Lord surrounded by His disciples was now fulfilled. The Vicar of Jesus Christ presided at the solemn funeral rites paid by Assisi to her who was its second glory before God and men. When they were beginning the usual chants for the dead, Innocent would have had them substitute the Office for holy Virgins; but on being advised that such a canonization before the body was interred would be considered premature, the Pontiff allowed them to continue the accustomed chants. The insertion, however, of the virgin’s name in the catalogue of the saints was only deferred for two years.
The following lines are consecrated by the Church to her memory:
Clara nobilis virgo, Assisii nata in Umbria, sanctum Franciscum concivem suum imitata, cuncta sua bona in eleemosynas et pauperum subsidia distribuit et convertit. De sæculi strepitu fugiens, in campestrem declinavit ecclesiam, ibique ab eodem beato Francisco recepta tonsura, consanguineis ipsam reducere conantibus fortiter restitit. Et denique ad ecclesiam sancti Damiani fuit per eumdem adducta, ubi ei Dominus plures socias aggregavit, et sic ipsa sacrarum sororum collegium instituit, quarum regimen, nimia sancti Francisci devicta importunitate, recepit. Suum monasterium sollicite ac prudenter in timore Domini, ac plena Ordinis observantia, annis quadraginta duobus mirabiliter gubernavit: ejus enim vita erat aliis eruditio et doctrina, unde cæteræ vivendi regulam didicerunt.
Ut carne depressa, spiritu convalesceret, nudam humum, et interdum sarmenta pro lecto habebat, et pro pulvinari sub capite durum lignum. Una tunica cum mantello de vili et hispido panno utebatur, aspero cilicio nonnumquam adhibito juxta carnem. Tanta se frænabat abstinentia, ut longo tempore tribus in hebdomada diebus nihil penitus pro sui corporis alimento gustaverit: reliquis autem diebus tali se ciborum parvitate restringens, ut aliæ, quomodo subsistere poterat, mirarentur. Binas quotannis (antequam ægrotaret) quadragesimas solo pane et aqua refecta jejunabat. Vigiliis insuper et orationibus assidue dedita, in his præcipue dies noctesque expendebat. Diutinis perplexa languoribus, cum ad exercitium corporale non posset surgere per se ipsam, sororum suffragiis levabatur, et fulcimentis ad tergum appositis, laborabat propriis manibus, ne in suis etiam esset infirmitatibus otiosa. Amatrix præcipua paupertatis, ab ea pro nulla umquam necessitate discessit, et possessiones pro sororum sustentatione a Gregorio Nono oblatas constantissime recusavit.
Multis et variis miraculis virtus suæ sanctitatis effulsit. Cuidam de sororibus sui monasterii loquelam restituit expeditam: alteri aurem surdamapemit: laborantem febre, tumentem hydropisi, plagatam fistula, aliasque aliis oppressas languoribus liberavit. Fratrem de Ordine Minorum ab insaniæpassione sanavit. Cum oleum in monasterio totaliter defecisset, Clara accepit urceum, atque lavit, et inventus est oleo, beneficio divinæ largitatis, impletus. Unius panis medietatem adeo multiplicavit, ut sororibus quinquaginta suffecerit. Saracenis Assisium obsidentibus, et Claræ monasterium invadere conantibus, ægra se ad portam afferri voluit, unaque vas, in quo sanctissimum Encharistiæ sacramentum erat inclusum, ibique oravit: Ne tradas, Domine, bestiis animas confitentes tibi, et custodi famulas tuas, quas pretioso sanguine redemisti. In cujus oratione ea vox audita est: Ego vos 8emper custodiam. Saraceni autem partim se fugæ mandarunt, partim qui murum ascenderat, capti oculis, præcipites ceciderunt. Ipsa denique virgo, cum in extremis ageret, a candido beatarum virginum cœtu (inter quas una eminentior ac fulgidior apparebat) visitata, ac sacra Eucharistia sumpta, et peccatorum indulgentia ab Innocentio Quarto ditata, pridie Idus Augusti animam Deo reddidit. Post obitum vero quamplurimis miraculis resplendentem Alexander Quartus inter sanctas virgines retulit.
The noble virgin Clare was born at Assisi, in Umbria Following the example of St. Francis, her fellow-citizen, she distributed all her goods in alms to the poor, and fleeing from the noise of the world, she retired to a country church, where blessed Francis cut off her hair. Her relations attempted to bring her back to the world, but she bravely resisted all their endeavours; and then St. Francis took her to the church of St. Damian. Here our Lord gave her several companions, so that she founded a convent of consecrated virgins, and her reluctance being overcome by the earnest desire of her holy father, she undertook its government. For forty-two years she ruled her monastery with wonderful care and prudence, in the fear of God and the full observance of the Rule. Her own life was a lesson and an example to others, showing all how to live aright.
She subdued her body in order to grow strong in spirit. Her bed was the bare ground, or, at times, a few twigs, and for a pillow she used a piece of hard wood. Her dress consisted of a single tunic and a mantle of poor coarse stuff; and she often wore a rough hair-shirt next to her skin. So great was her abstinence, that for a long time she took absolutely no bodily nourishment for three days of the week, and on the remaining days restricted herself to so small a quantity of food, that the other religious wondered how she was able to live. Before her health gave way, it was her custom to keep two Lents in the year, fasting on bread and water. Moreover, she devoted herself to watching and prayer, and in these exercises especially she would spend whole days and nights. She suffered from frequent and long illnesses; but when she was unable to leave her bed in order to work, she would make her sisters raise and prop her up in a sitting position, so that she could work with her hands, and thus not be idle even in sickness. She had a very great love of poverty, never deviating from it on account of any necessity, and she firmly refused the possessions offered by Gregory IX for the support of the sisters.
The greatness of her sanctity was manifested by many different miracles. She restored the power of speech to one of the sisters of her monastery, to another the power of hearing. She healed one of a fever, one of dropsy, one of an ulcer, and many others of various maladies. She cured of insanity a brother of the Order of Friars Minor. Once when all the oil in the monastery was spent, Clare took a vessel and washed it, and it was found filled with oil by the loving-kindness of God. She multiplied half a loaf so that it sufficed for fifty sisters. When the Saracens attacked the town of Assisi and attempted to break into Clare’s monastery, she, though sick at the time, had herself carried to the gate, and also the vessel which contained the most Holy Eucharist, and there she prayed, saying: 'O Lord, deliver not unto beasts the souls of them that praise Thee; but preserve Thy handmaids whom Thou hast redeemed with Thy precious Blood.' Whereupon a voice was heard, which said: 'I will always preserve you.’ Some of the Saracens took to flight, others who had already scaled the walls were struck blind and fell down headlong. At length, when the virgin Clare came to die, she was visited by a white-robed multitude of blessed virgins, amongst whom was one nobler and more resplendent than the rest. Having received the Holy Eucharist and a plenary indulgence from Innocent IV, she gave up her soul to God on the day before the Ides of August. After her death she became celebrated by numbers of miracles, and Alexander IV enrolled her among the holy virgins.
O Clare, the reflection of the Spouse which adorns the Church in this world no longer suffices thee; thou now beholdest the light with open face. The brightness of the Lord plays with delight in the pure crystal of thy soul, increasing the happiness of heaven, and giving joy this day to our valley of exile. Heavenly beacon, with thy gentle shining enlighten our darkness. May we, like thee, by purity of heart, by uprightness of thought, by simplicity of gaze, fix upon ourselves the divine ray, which flickers in a wavering soul, is dimmed by our waywardness, is interrupted or put out by a double life divided between God and the world.
Thy life, O virgin, was never thus divided. The most high poverty, which was thy mistress and guide, preserved thy mind from that bewitching of vanity which takes off the bloom of all true goods for us mortals. Detachment from all passing things kept thine eye fixed upon eternal realities; it opened thy soul to that seraphic ardour wherein thou didst emulate thy Father Francis. Like the Seraphim, whose gaze is ever fixed on God, thou hadst immense influence over the earth; and St. Damian’s, during thy lifetime, was a source of strength to the world.
Deign to continue giving us thine aid. Multiply thy daughters; keep them faithful in following their Mother’s example, so as to be a strong support to the Church. May the various branches of the Franciscan family be ever fostered by thy rays, and may all Religious Orders be enlightened by thy gentle brightness. Shine upon us all, O Clare, and show us the worth of this transitory life and of that which never ends.
[1] Regula Damianitarum, viii.
[2] Regula ii; Vita S. Claræ, coæva ii.
[3] Clara claris praclara mentis, magnæ in cœlo claritate gloriæ ac in terra splendore miraculorum sublimium, clare claret.—Bulla Canonizationis.
[4] Bulla Canonizationis.
[5] S. Claræ ad B. Agnetem, Epist. iv.
[6] Wadding ad an. 1221.
[7] Vita S. Claræ coæva iii.
[8] Wadding ad an. 1253, though the fact is referred by others to the Pontificate of Gregory IX.
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
NEVER was such a booty won as that obtained by the sons of Clovis in their expedition against Thuringia towards the year 530. Receive this blessing from the spoils of the enemy[1] might they well say on presenting to the Franks the orphan brought from the court of the fratricide prince whom they had just chastised. God seemed in haste to ripen the soul of Radegonde. After the tragic death of her relatives followed the ruin of her country. So vivid was the impression made in the child's heart that long afterwards the recollection awakened in the queen and the saint a sorrow and a homesickness which nought but the love of Christ could overcome. ‘I have seen the plain strewn with dead and palaces burnt to the ground; I have seen women, with eyes dry from very horror, mourning over fallen Thuringia; I alone have survived to weep over them all.'[2]
The licentiousness of the Frankish kings was as unbridled as that of her own ancestors; yet in their land the little captive found Christianity, which she had not hitherto known. The faith was a healing balm to this wounded soul. Baptism, in giving her to God, sanctified, without crushing, her high-spirited nature. Thirsting for Christ, she wished to be martyred for Him; she sought Him on the cross of self-renunciation; she found Him in His poor suffering members; looking on the face of a leper, she would see in it the disfigured countenance of her Saviour, and thence rise to the ardent contemplation of the triumphant Spouse, whose glorious face illumines the abode of the saints.
What a loathing, therefore, did she feel when, offering her royal honours, the destroyer of her own country sought to share with God the possession of a heart that heaven alone could comfort or gladden! First flight, then the refusal to comply with the manners of a court where everything was repulsive to her desires and recollections, her eagerness to break, on the very first opportunity, a bond which violence alone had contracted, prove that the trial had no other effect, as her Life says, but to bend her soul more and more to the sole object of her love.[3]
Meanwhile, near the tomb of St. Martin, another queen, Clotilde, the mother of the most Christian kingdom, was about to die. Unfortunate are those times when the men after God’s own heart, at their departure from earth, leave no one to take their place; as the Psalmist cried out in a just consternation: Save me, O Lord, for there is now no saint![4] For though the elect pray for us in heaven, they can no longer fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ, in their flesh, for His body, which is the Church.[5] The work begun at the Baptistery of Rheims was not yet completed; the Gospel, though reigning by faith over the Frankish nation, had not yet subdued its manners. Christ, who loved the Franks, heard the last prayer of the mother he had given them, and refused her not the consolation of knowing that she should have a successor. Radegonde was set free, just in time to prevent an interruption in the laborious .work of forming the Church’s eldest daughter; and she took up in solitude the struggle with God, by prayer and expiation, begun by the widow of Clovis.
In the joy of having cast off an odious yoke, forgiveness was an easy thing to her great soul;[6] in her monastery at Poitiers she showed an unfailing devotedness for the kings whose company she had fled. The fortune of France was bound up with theirs; France the cradleland of her supernatural life, where the Man-God had revealed Himself to her heart, and which she therefore loved with part of the love reserved for her heavenly country. The peace and prosperity of her spiritual fatherland occupied her thoughts day and night. If any quarrel arose among the princes, say the contemporary accounts, she trembled from head to foot at the very thought of the country’s danger. She wrote, according to their different dispositions, to each of the kings, imploring them to consider the welfare of the nation; she interested the chief vassals in her endeavours to prevent war. She imposed on her community assiduous watchings, exhorting them with tears to pray without ceasing; as to herself, the tortures she inflicted on herself for this end are inexpressible.[7]
The only victory, then, that Radegonde desired was peace among the princes of the earth; when she had gained this by her struggle with the King of heaven, her joy in the service of the Lord was redoubled, and the tenderness she felt for her devoted helpers, the nuns of Sainte-Croix, could scarcely find utterance: 'You, the daughters of my choice,' she would say, 'my eyes, my life, my sweet repose, so live with me in this world, that we may meet again in the happiness of the next.’ And they responded to her love. 'By the God of heaven it is true that everything in her reflected the splendour of her soul.’ Such was the spontaneous and graceful cry of her daughter Baudonivia; and it was echoed by the graver voice of the historian-bishop, Gregory of Tours, who declared that the supernatural beauty of the saint remained even in death;[8] it was a brightness from heaven, which purified while it attracted hearts, which caused the Italian Venantius Fortunatus to cease his wanderings,[9] made him a saint and a Pontiff, and inspired him with his most beautiful poems.
The light of God could not but be reflected in her, who, turning towards Him by uninterrupted contemplation, redoubled her desires as the end of her exile approached. Neither the relics of the saints which she had so sought after as speaking to her of her true home, nor her dearest treasure, the Cross of her Lord, was enough for her; she would fain have drawn the Lord Himself from His throne, to dwell visibly on earth. She only interrupted her sighs to excite in others the same longings. She exhorted her daughters not to neglect the knowledge of divine things; and explained to them with profound science and motherly love the difficulties of the Scriptures. As she increased the holy readings of the community for the same end, she would say: 'If you do not understand, ask; why do you fear to seek the light of your souls?' And she would insist: 'Reap, reap the wheat of the Lord; for, I tell you truly, you will not have long to do it: reap, for the time draws near when you will wish to recall the days that are now given you, and your regrets will not be able to bring them back.’ And the loving chronicler to whom we owe these sweet intimate details continues: 'In our idleness we listen coolly to the announcement; but that time has come all too soon. Now is realized in us the prophecy which says: I will send forth a famine into thy land: not a famine of bread, nor a thirst of water, but of hearing the Word of the Lord.[10] For though we still read her conferences, that voice which never ceased is now silent; those lips, ever ready with wise advice and sweet words, are closed. O most good God, what an expression, what features, what manners Thou hadst given her! No, no one could describe it. The remembrance is anguish! That teaching, that gracefulness, that face, that mien, that science, that piety, that goodness, that sweetness, where are we to seek them now V Such touching sorrow does honour to both mother and daughters; but it could not keep back the former from her reward. On the morning of the Ides of August 587, while Sainte-Croix was filled with lamentations, an angel was heard saying to others on high: ‘Leave her yet longer, for the tears of her daughters have ascended to God.’ But those who were bearing Radegonde away replied: ' It is too late, she is already in Paradise.’[11]
Let us read the liturgical account, which will complete what we have said:
Radegundis, Bertharii Thuringorum regis filia, decennis captiva a Francis abducta, cum insigni et regia esset forma. Francorum regibus cui ipsa cederet inter se decertantibus, Clotario Suessionum regi sorte obtigit; qui optimis eam magistr is credidit, liberalibus erudiendam disciplinis. Tum puella, avide acceptis ftdei christianæ documentis, et ejurato hæreditario, inanium deorum cultu, non præcepta tantum, sed et evangelica decrevit servare consilia. Adultiorem jam factam Clotarius. qui sibi dudum illam addixerat uxorem, in conjugium excepit: unde licet invita, quin et altera vice fuga elapsa, cunctis plaudentibus regina salutatur. Ad honores igitur solii evecta, beneficentiam in pauperes, assiduas orationes, crebras vigilias, jejunia, aliasque corporis afflictationes cum regia dignitate conjunxit, adeo ut non regina, sed monacha jugalis ab aulicis pietatem deridentibus diceretur.
Ejus patientia maxime enituit in tolerandis variis durioribusque molestiis quas ei rex inferebat. Cum autem audivisset fratrem suum germanum Clotarii jussu injuste fuisse occisum, ab aula repente discessit, ipso rege annuente, et beatum Medardum episcopum adiit, instantissime deprecans ut Domino consecraretur. Proceres vero vehementer obsistebant ne pontifex eam velaret, quæ solemni more nupsisset regi. At illa statim ingressa sacrarium, monastica veste seipsam induit; indeque procedens ad altare, episcopum sic allocuta est: Si me consecrare distuleris, plus hominem reveritus quam Deum, erit qui animam abs te meam exigat. Quibus ille verbis commotus, reginam sacro velamine initiavit, et manu imposita diaconissam consecravit. Pictavum deinde perrexit, ubi monasterium virginum condidit, quod postea titulo sanctæ Crucis nuncupatum est. Virtutum splendore præcellens, ad sacræ religionis amplexum innumerabiles pene virgines pertraxit: quibus, ob eximia divinæ in se gratiæ testimonia, omnium efflagitatione præfecta, ministrare gaudebat magis quam præesse.
Miraculorum licet multitudine longe lateque refulgens, primæ dignitatis penitus immemor, vilissima et abjectissima quævis munia expetebat. Ægrorum, egentium, ac maxime leprosorum curam præcipue dilexit: quos sæpe ab infirmitatibus mirabiliter liberabat. Ea pietate divinum altaris sacrificium prosequebatur, ut propriis manibus conficeret panes sacrandos, quos dein diversis suppeditabat ecclesiis. Quæ vero inter regales delicias totam se carnis mortificationi impenderat, quæque ab adolescentia martyrii flagrabat desiderio; nunc vitam agens monasticam, rigidissima corpus domabat inedia: quinetiam ferreis catenis lumbos accincta, membra cruciabat ardentibus carbonibus laminisque candentibus in carne acriter infixis, ut sic etiam caro suo modo Christi amore inflammaretur. Clotarium regem, qui illam repetere et e cœnobio abripere decreverat jamque ad cœnobium sanctæ Crucis iter contulerat, ipsa datis ad sanctum Germanum Parisiensem episcopum litteris adeo obsterruit, ut ad sancti præsulis pedes provolutus illum rogaret ut a pia regina regis ac conjugis veniam efflagitaret.
Sanctorum reliquiis, variis ex regionibus allatis, monasterium suum ditavit. Sed et missis clericis ad Justinum imperatorem, insignem partem Ugni Dominicæ Crucis impetravit: quæ solemni ritu a Pictaviensibus recepta est, gestientibus clero omnique populo, atque hymnos decantantibus, quos in laudem almæ Crucis confecerat Venantius Fortunatus, posthæc episcopus, qui Radegundis potiebatur sancta familiaritate, ejusque cœnobium regebat.Ipsa denique sanctissima regina, jam matura cœlo, paucis diebus antequam e vita exiret, Christi apparitione sub specie speciosissimi adolescentis dignata est, et ex ejus ore has voces audire meruit: Quid adeo fruendi cupiditate teneris? quid tot lacrymis gemitibusque diffunderis? quid tam crebro meis altaribus suppliciter admoveris? quid tot laboribus corpusculum tuum infringis? cum ipse tibi semper adhæream. Tu gemma nobilis, noveris te in diademate capitis mei esse e gemmis primariis unam. Anno tandem quingentesimo octogesimo septimo purissimam animam in sinu cœlestis Sponsi, quem unice dilexerat, exhalavit, et a sancto Gregorio Turonensi in basilica beatæ Mariæ, ut optaverat, sepulta fuit.
Radegonde was the daughter of Berthaire, King of Thuringia. When ten years old she was led away captive by the Franks; and on account of her striking and queenly beauty their kings disputed among themselves for the possession of her. They drew lots, and she fell to the share of Clothaire, King of Soissons. He entrusted her education to excellent masters. Child as she was, she eagerly imbibed the doctrines of the Christian faith, and renouncing the worship of false gods which she had learnt from her fathers, she determined to observe not only the precepts, but also the counsels of the Gospel. When she was grown up, Clothaire, who had long before chosen her, took her to wife, and in spite of her refusal, in spite of her attempts at flight, she was proclaimed queen, to the great joy of all. When thus raised to the throne, she joined charity to the poor, continual prayer, frequent watchings, fasting and other bodily austerities to her regal dignity, so that the courtiers said in scorn that the king had married not a queen, but a nun.
Her patience shone out brightly in supporting many grievous trials caused her by the king. But when she heard that her own brother had been unjustly slain by command of Clothaire, she instantly left the court with the king’s consent, and going to the blessed bishop Medard, she earnestly begged him to consecrate her to the Lord. The nobles strongly opposed his giving the veil to her whom the king had solemnly married. But she at once went into the sacristy and clothed herself in the monastic habit. Then, advancing to the altar, she thus addressed the bishop: 'If you hesitate to consecrate me because you fear man more than God, there is one who will demand an account of my soul from you.' These words deeply touched Medard; he placed the sacred veil upon the queen’s head, and imposing his hands upon her, consecrated her a deaconess. She proceeded to Poitiers, and there founded a monastery of virgins, which was afterwards called of the Holy Cross. The splendour of her virtues shone forth and attracted innumerable virgins to embrace a religious life. On account of her extraordinary gifts of divine grace, all wished her to be their mistress; but she desired to serve rather than to command.
The number of miracles she worked spread her name far and wide; but she herself, forgetful of her dignity, sought out the lowest and humblest offices. She loved especially to take care of the sick, the needy, and above all the lepers, whom she often cured in a miraculous manner. She honoured the divine Sacrifice of the altar with deep piety, making with her own hands the bread which was to be consecrated, and supplying it to several churches. Even in the midst of the pleasures of a court, she had applied herself to mortifying her flesh, and from her childhood she had burned with desire of martyrdom; now that she was leading a monastic life she subdued her body with the utmost rigour. She girt herself with iron chains, she tortured her body with burning coals, courageously fixed redhot plates of metal upon her flesh that thus it also might, in a way, be inflamed with love of Christ. King Clothaire, bent on taking her back and carrying her off from her monastery, set out for Holy Cross; but she deterred him by means of letters which she wrote to St. Germanus, Bishop of Paris; so that, prostrate at the holy prelate’s feet, the king begged him to beseech his pious queen to pardon him who was both her sovereign and her husband.
Radegonde enriched her monastery with relics of the saints brought from different countries. She also sent some clerics to the Emperor Justin and obtained from him a large piece of the wood of our Lord’s Cross. It was received with great solemnity by the people of Poitiers, and all, both clergy and laity, sang exultingly the hymns composed by Venantius Fortunatus in honour of the blessed Cross. This poet was afterwards Bishop of Poi tiers; he enjoyed the holy friendship of Radegonde and directed her monastery. At length the holy queen, being ripe for heaven, was honoured a few days before her death by an apparition of Christ under the form of a most beautiful youth; and she heard these words from His mouth: 'Why art thou consumed by so great a longing to enjoy My presence? Why dost thou pour out so many tears and sighs? Why comest thou as a suppliant so often to My altars? Why dost thou break down thy body with so many labours, when I am always united to thee? My beautiful pearl! Know that thou art one of the most precious stones in My kingly crown.’ In the year 587 she breathed forth her pure soul into the bosom of the heavenly Spouse who had been her only love. Gregory of Tours buried her, as she had wished, in the church of St. Mary.
Thine exile is over, eternal possession has taken the place of desire; all heaven is illumined with the brightness of the precious stone that has come to enrich the diadem of the Spouse. O Radegonde, the Wisdom who is now rewarding thy toils led thee by admirable ways. Thy inheritance, become to thee as a lion in the wood spreading death around thee, thy captivity far from thy native land; what was all this but love’s way of drawing thee from the dens of the lions, from the mountains of the leopards, where idolatry had led thee in childhood? Thou hadst to suffer in a foreign land, but the light from above shone into thy soul, and gave it strength. A powerful king tried in vain to make thee share his throne; thou wert a queen but for Christ, who in His goodness made thee a mother to that kingdom of France which belongs to Him more than to any prince. For His sake thou didst love that land become thine by the right of the Bride who shares the sceptre of her Spouse; for His sake, that nation, whose glorious destiny thou didst predict, received unstintedly all thy labours, thy unspeakable mortifications, thy prayers and thy tears.
O thou who art ever queen of France, as Christ is ever its King, bring back to Him the hearts of its people, for in their blind error they have laid aside their glory, and their sword is no longer wielded for God. Protect, above all, the city of Poitiers, which honours thee with a special cultus together with its great St. Hilary. Bless thy daughters of Sainte-Croix, who, ever faithful to thy great traditions, prove the power of that fruitful stem, which through so many centuries and such devastations has never ceased to produce both flowers and fruit. Teach us to seek our Lord, and to find Him in His holy Sacrament, in the relics of His saints, in His suffering members on earth; and may all Christians learn from thee how to love.
[1] 1 Kings xxx. 26.
[2] De excidio Thuringiæ, 1, v. 5-36, Fortunatus ex persona Radegundis.
[3] Baudonivia, Vita Radegundis, 2.
[4] Ps. xi. 2.
[5] Col. i. 24.
[6] Baudonivia, 7.
[7] Baudonivia, 11.
[8] Greg. Turon. De gloria confessorum, cvi.
[9] Fortunat. Miscellanea, viii, 1, 11, etc.
[10] Amos viii. 11.
[11] Baudonivia.
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
Not far from the sepulchre of St. Laurence, on the opposite side of the Tiburtian Way, lies the tomb of St. Hippolytus, one of the sanctuaries most dear to the Christians in the days of triumph. Prudentius has described the magnificence of the crypt, and the immense concourse attracted to it each year on the Ides of August. Who was this saint? Of what rank and manner of life? What facts of his history are there to be told, beyond that of his having given his blood for Christ? All these questions have in modem times become the subject of numerous and learned works. He was a martyr, and that is nobility enough to make him glorious in our eyes. Let us honour him, then, and together with him another soldier of Christ, Cassian of Imola, whom the Church offers to our homage at the same time. Hippolytus was dragged by wild horses over rocks and briars till his body was ail torn: Cassian, who was a schoolmaster, was delivered by the judge to the children he had taught, and died of the thousands of wounds inflicted by their styles. The prince of Christian poets has sung of him as of Hippolytus, describing his combat and his tomb.
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
WHAT is this dawn before which the brightest constellations pale? Laurence, who has been shining in the August heavens as an incomparable star, is wellnigh eclipsed, and becomes but the humble satellite of the Queen of Saints, whose triumph is preparing beyond the clouds.
Mary stayed on earth after her Son’s Ascension, in order to give birth to his Church; but she could not remain for ever in exile. Yet she was not to take her flight to heaven until this new fruit of her maternity had acquired the growth and strength which it belongs to a mother to give. How sweet to the Church was this dependence!—a privilege given to her members by our Lord in imitation of Himself.[1] As we saw, at Christmas-time, the God-Man carried first in the arms of His Mother, gathering His strength and nourishing His life at her virginal breast; so the mystical body of the Man-God, the Holy Church, received, in its first years, the same care from Mary as the divine Child our Emmanuel.
As Joseph heretofore at Nazareth, Peter was now ruling the house of God; but our Lady was none the less to the assembly of the faithful the source of life in the spiritual order, as she had been to Jesus in His Humanity. On the day of Pentecost the Holy Ghost and every one of His gifts rested first upon her in all fulness; every grace bestowed on the privileged dwellers in the cenacle was given more eminently and more abundantly to her. The sacred stream of the river maketh the city of God joyful, because first of all the Most High has sanctified His own tabernacle, made her the well of living waters, which run with a strong stream from Libanus.
Eternal Wisdom herself is compared in the Scripture to overflowing waters; to this day, the voice of her messengers traverses the world, magnificent, as the voice of the Lord over the great waters, as the thunder which reveals His power and majesty: like a new deluge overturning the ramparts of false science, levelling every height raised against God, and fertilizing the desert. O fountain of the gardens hiding thyself so calm and pure in Sion, the silence which keeps thee from the knowledge of the profane hides from their sullied eyes the source of thy wavelets which carry salvation to the furthest limits of the Gentile world. To thee, as to the Wisdom sprung from thee, is applied the prophetic word: I have poured out rivers.[2] Thou givest to drink to the new-born Church thirsting for the Word. Thou art, as the Holy Spirit said of Esther, thy type, 'the little fountain which grew into a river, and was turned into a light, and into the sun, and abounded into many waters.'[3] The apostles, inundated with divine science, recognized in thee the richest source, which having once given to the world the Lord God, continued to be the channel of His grace and truth to them.
As a mountain spreads out at its base in proportion to the greatness of its height, the incomparable dignity of Mary rested on her ever-growing humility. Nevertheless we must not think that the Mother of the Church was to do nothing more than win heaven's favours silently. The time had come for her to communicate to the friends of the Spouse the ineffable secrets known to her virginal soul alone; and as to the public facts of our Saviour's history, what memory surer or more complete than hers, what deeper understanding of the mysteries of salvation, could furnish the Evangelists with the inspiration and the matter of their sublime narrations? How could the chiefs of the Christian people not consult in every undertaking the heavenly prudence of her whose judgment could never be obscured by the least error, any more than her soul could be tarnished by the least fault? Thus, although her gentle voice was never heard abroad, although she loved to put herself in the shade and take the last place in their assemblies, Mary was truly from that time forward, as the Doctors observe, the scourge of heresy, the mistress of the apostles and their beloved inspirer. 'If,' says Rupert,[4] ‘ the Holy Ghost instructed the apostles, we must not therefore conclude that they had not recourse to the most sweet teaching of Mary. Yea, rather, her word was to them the word of the Spirit Himself; she completed and confirmed the inspirations received by each one from Him who divideth as He wills.' And St. Ambrose, the illustrious Bishop of Milan, speaking of the privilege of the beloved disciple at the Last Supper, does not hesitate to attribute the greater sublimity of his teachings to his longer and more intimate intercourse with our Lady: ‘ This beloved of the Lord, who, resting on his bosom, drank from the depths of Wisdom, I am not astonished that he has explained divine mysteries better than all the others, for the treasure of heavenly secrets hidden in Mary was ever open to him.'[5]
Happy were the faithful of those days, permitted to contemplate the ark of the covenant, wherein, better than on tables of stone, dwelt the plenitude of the law of love! At her side, the rod of the new Aaron, the sceptre of Simon Peter, kept its vigour and freshness, and under her shadow the true manna of heaven was accessible to the elect of this worlds desert. Denis of Athens, Hierotheus, both of whom we shall soon see again beside this holy ark, and many others, came to the feet of Mary to rest on their journey, to strengthen their love, to consult the august propitiatory where the divinity had resided. From the lips of the Mother of God they gathered words sweeter than honey, calming their souls, ordering their life, filling their noble minds with the brightness of heaven. To these privileged ones of the first age might be addressed those words of the Spouse, who in these years was completing His gathering from His chosen garden: I have gathered My myrrh with My aromatical spices: I have eaten the honeycomb with My honey: I have drunk My wine with My milk: eat, Ofriends, and drink, and be inebriated, My dearly beloved.[6]
No wonder that in Jerusalem, favoured with so august a presence, the first group of faithful rose unanimously above the observance of the precepts to the perfection of the counsels; they persevered in prayer, praising God in gladness and simplicity of heart, having favour with all the people; and they were of one heart and one soul. This happy community could not but be an image of heaven on earth, since the Queen of heaven was a member of it; the example of her life, her allpowerful intercession, her merits more vast than all the united treasures of all created sanctities, was Mary’s contribution to this blessed family where all things were common to all.
From the hill of Sion, however, the Church had spread its branches over every mountain and every sea; the vineyard of the King of Peace was extended among all nations; it was time to let it out to the keepers appointed to guard it for the Spouse. It was a solemn moment; a new phase in the history of our salvation was about to begin: Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the friends hearken: make me hear Thy voice.[7] The Spouse, the Church on earth, the Church in heaven, all were waiting for her, who had tended the vine and strengthened its roots, to utter a word such as that which had heretofore brought down the Spouse to earth. But to-day heaven, not earth, was to be the gainer. Flee away, O my Beloved;[8] it was the voice of Mary about to follow the fragrant footsteps of the Lord her Son up to the eternal mountains whither her own perfumes had preceded her.
Let us enter into the sentiments of the Church, who prepares by the fasting and abstinence of this Vigil to celebrate the triumph of Mary. Man may not venture to join on earth in the joys of heaven, without first acknowledging that he is a sinner and a debtor to the justice of God. The light task imposed on us to-day will appear still easier if we compare it with the Lent whereby the Greeks have been preparing for our Lady’s feast ever since the first of this month.
Prayer
Deus, qui virginalem aulam beatæ Mariæ, in qua habitares, eligere dignatus es: da, quæsumus; ut sua nos defensione munitos, jucundos facias suæ interesse festivitati. Qui vivis.
O God, who didst vouchsafe to choose for Thy habitation the virginal womb of the Blessed Mary, grant, we beseech Thee, that, defended by her protection, we may joyfully assist at her festival. Who livest, etc.
To this Collect of the Vigil let us add, with the holy liturgy, the commemoration of a holy confessor, whose imprisonment and sufferings at Rome, in the time of the Arians, made him wellnigh equal to the martyrs. As he is honoured with a church in the Eternal City, Eusebius is entitled to the homage of the whole world.
Prayer
Deus, qui nos beati Eusebii, Confessoris tui, annua solemnitate lætificas: concede propitius; ut, cujus natalitia colimus, per ejus ad te exempla gradiamur. Per Dominum.
O God, who givest us joy by the annual solemnity of the blessed Eusebius, Thy Confessor, mercifully grant that, celebrating his festival, we may approach to Thee by following his example. Through our Lord, etc.
[1] Carnalia in te Christus ubera suxit, ut per te nobis spiritualia fluerent. —Richard a S. Victore, in Cant. Cap. xxiii.
[2] Eccli. xxiv. 40.
[3] Esther x. 6.
[4] Rupert in Cant. i.
[5] Ambr. De Instit. Virg. vii.
[6] Cant. v. 1.
[7] Ibid. viii. 13.
[8] Ibid 14.
From Dom Guéranger's The Liturgical Year.
To this Collect of the Vigil let us add, with the holy liturgy, the commemoration of a holy confessor, whose imprisonment and sufferings at Rome, in the time of the Arians, made him well nigh equal to the martyrs. As he is honoured with a church in the Eternal City, Eusebius is entitled to the homage of the whole world.
Prayer
Deus, qui nos beati Eusebii, Confessoris tui, annua solemnitate lætificas: concede propitius; ut, cujus natalitia colimus, per ejus ad te exempla gradiamur. Per Dominum.
O God, who givest us joy by the annual solemnity of the blessed Eusebius, Thy Confessor, mercifully grant that, celebrating his festival, we may approach to Thee by following his example. Through our Lord, etc.