Bread Wholly Pure

Whether We Know It Or Not...

Dear Brave and Good Young People

Within the Plans of Divine Providence

You Were Made For Greatness

'The world offers you comfort, but you were not made for comfort. 
You were made for greatness.'

Pope Benedict XVI






Painting: Rosetti, Joan of Arc

In the Faith of the Living

'The death of the martyrs blossoms in the faith of the living.'

Pope St. Gregory I

Painting: John Marshall Gamble

That the Good May Shine the Brighter

"This is why God has left the wicked in the world: so that the good may shine the brighter.

Do you see how great the gain is?  But the gain is not owing to the wicked, but to the courage of the good. Trees tossed about by contrary winds grow stronger. And the wicked gain too, by mixing with the good. They feel confused; they are ashamed; they blush in the presence of the good.  Even if they do not keep from evil, nevertheless they dare what they dare in secret. This is no small thing, not to have sins publicly committed.

The life of the good becomes the accuser of their wickedness. 'It hurts even to see him,' they say of the righteous man. It is no small amendment to be tormented by his presence."

St. John Chysostom

Painting: Adolphe Alexandre Dillens, Capture of Joan of Arc

You're Sure You'd Haste to Martyrdom

                                  'You read of saints in ecstasies,
                                  in rosy bowers of prayer,
                                  You think it were your heart's delight
                                  to live among them there...

                                  You'd go to China willingly,
                                  to foreign lands you'd roam,
                                  but still you must have everything
                                  you want or like at home.

                                  You cannot bear a chilly breeze,
                                  an over-heated day,
                                  but you're sure you'd haste to martyrdom -
                                  Now, can you be astray.......?

                           

                     (from In Love with the Divine Outcast, by a Religious, Pellegrini, Australia, 1934)

                            Painting: James Tissot, Young Lady in a Boat

The Martyrdom of Me

Today I realized something about myself.  I don't mind suffering!  Physical distress, poverty, pain:  none of these bother me at all, as long as I'm not inconvenienced or uncomfortable. 

I've read gripping works about Christians in horrid circumstances.  St. Therese on her deathbed, Ignatius of Antioch on his way to martyrdom, John of the Cross imprisoned, Immaculee Ilibagiza huddled in a bathroom.  I usually read these things at night, under soft blankets in my cozy house.  From my comfort zone, I am inspired and challenged and ready to endure anything for God.

And then I wonder if someone might have misunderstood something I wrote about prayer.  Or if I might be getting a headache.  Or maybe I'm asked to go a teeeeeny bit out of my way to help someone else.  Alas and alack.  Such things can feel like the very martyrdom of me.  

(back of hand to forehead; long sigh........)

This is not my first blog post about this kind of thing.  Shouldn't I be getting 'better' by now?

I would say yes and no.  Yes, in that I should be growing in acceptance of God's will, whatever that may entail.  Hopefully that is happening.  

And no, in the sense that I will surely always dread suffering.  That is only human, only normal.  I would even say that the dread and misery makes the gut-wrenching acceptance of God's will (when it involves suffering) all the more valuable.  It is a matter of choice, and I can choose God's will regardless of how I may feel.  

I do not have the grace to endure facing lions or being imprisoned, because at this moment I don't need it.  If a lion ever comes for me, God will provide all the lion-grace I need.   

The grace to endure a headache?  Yes, that I am frequently given.  I'm sorry to say that all too often I've been too busy fretting or complaining to see and accept that grace as the gift it is.       

So I shall sit back against my fluffy pillows, maybe with a cup of tea, and let God inspire me with words like these.....

'Permit me to imitate my suffering God... I am God's wheat, and I shall be ground by the teeth of beasts, that I may become the pure bread of Christ.'  (St. Ignatius of Antioch, just before his martyrdom)

'In temporal crosses let God touch and strike whatever string on the lute He chooses.  Never will He make but a good harmony.'  (St. Francis de Sales) 

'Three times I was beaten with rods; I was stoned once, shipwrecked three times; I passed a day and night on the sea.  I traveled continually, endangered by floods, robbers, my own people, the Gentiles; imperiled in the city, in the desert, in the sea, by false brothers; enduring labor, hardship, many sleepless nights; in hunger and thirst and frequent fastings; in cold and nakedness.  Leaving other sufferings unmentioned, there is that daily tension pressing on me, my anxiety for all the churches.. if I must boast, I will make a point of my weaknesses.'  (2 Corinthians 11:25-30)

'If we only knew the precious treasure hidden in infirmities, we would receive them without complaining or showing signs of weariness.'  (St. Vincent de Paul)

'You are quite willing to have a cross, but you want to have the choice; you would have it common, physical, and of such or such a sort.  How is this, my well beloved daughter?  Ah no, I desire that your cross and mine be entirely of Jesus Christ.  As to the imposition of them and the choice, the good God knows what He does and why He does it, all for our good.'  (St. Francis de Sales)

Painting:  Ferdinand Max Bredt

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz

A Pattern for my Pebbles

 
In the third century, Tertullian wrote that the blood of the martyrs is seed for the Church.  It was seed that God planted from the beginning.  St. Paul endured imprisonments, beatings, stoning; St. John was exiled on the island of Patmos; St. Peter was allegedly crucified upside down.

It all began with Stephen.

"Those who listened to (Stephen's) words were stung to the heart; they ground their teeth in anger at him.  Stephen meanwhile, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked to the sky above and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at God's right hand.  'Look!' he exclaimed, 'I see an opening in the sky, and the Son of Man standing at God's right hand.' The onlookers were shouting aloud, holding their hands over their ears as they did so.  Then they rushed at him as one man, dragged him out of the city, and began to stone him.  The witnesses meanwhile were piling their cloaks at the feet of a young man named Saul.  As Stephen was being stoned he could be heard saying, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.'  He fell to his knees and cried out in a loud voice, 'Lord, do not hold this sin against them.'  And with that he died."  (Acts 7:54-60)

Surely his acute view of reality buffered Stephen's agony as stones were hurled at him.  He was given grace appropriate to the situation, just at the moment he needed it.

I like to remember this.  When I face a trial, God is there.  He gives me just the glimpse of Him that I need, exactly when I need it.  I know this through faith, and I know it from experience.  God stands ready with what I need.

I have never been pelted with physical stones, but I've endured a few pebbles.  Smirks and snubs for living and speaking the truth of God.  I like to remember that Jesus told us to expect nothing less.  "You will be hated by all on account of Me."  (Matthew 10:22).

I pray to remember the example of Stephen.  What a grace that the words of this first Christian martyr were written down:  leaving, in effect, a pattern for all who would come after him.  He looked at God, not at the situation.  He prayed.  He forgave.  And his actions were witnessed by one who would turn, in time, to God.

Stephen's pattern for dealing with stones is just as much a pattern for the pebbles.

Look to God.

Pray.

Forgive. 

And God stands ready with what we need.

Painting:  Giorgio Vasari, Martyrdom of St Stephen


In honor of today's feast, this was a re-post from our archives

Monsters in Africa

    'It is an error to desire martyrdom without having enough courage to bear an insult.  The enemy often arouses in us ardent desires for things that are absent and may never come our way.  It is to turn our mind away from present objects from which, however small they may be, we could draw much profit.
     In imagination, we fight monsters in Africa.  But in fact, due to lack of attention, we allow ourselves to be killed by little serpents on our way.'  (St. Francis de Sales)

Hendrick ter Brugghen painting, public domain

To be a Setting Sun

Thinking of what has formed me spiritually, I take one more look at the martyrs. These holy ones inspire me not because I like suffering (which I definitely do not), and not merely because their intense gift of self to Christ is challenging (although it is). I think I am enamored of them because their accounts pull me out of self-pity when I'm feeling arthritic, headachy, unable to find the car keys, or when it's raining for the ninth day in a row.

A witness of, say, an Ignatius of Antioch can hush my whines at such times.  And fast.

"Now is the moment when I begin to be a disciple," proclaimed St. Ignatius as he was on the way to be fed to lions. "May nothing seen or unseen distract me from making my way to Jesus Christ.  Fire and cross and battling with wild beasts, their clawing and tearing... let them assail me, so long as I get to Jesus Christ.... How glorious to be a setting sun - setting on the world, on my way to God!"

I hope to remember these words tomorrow, when I'm on the verge of grumbling about allergies and that load of laundry I must fold.

Painting:  The Christian Martyrs Last Prayer

A Pattern for the Pebbles

Close to the base of my "spiritual family tree" stand those who have suffered for Christ, those who've given up lives, health or comfort for love of God.

It is only appropriate that such heroes are seen (by all of us) as basic to the faith, for they are exactly that.  As Tertullian said in the third century, the blood of the martyrs is seed for the Church.

It was seed that God planted from the beginning.  St. Paul endured imprisonments, beatings, stoning; St. John was exiled on the island of Patmos; St. Peter was allegedly crucified upside down.

It had all begun with Stephen.

"Those who listened to (Stephen's) words were stung to the heart; they ground their teeth in anger at him.  Stephen meanwhile, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked to the sky above and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at God's right hand.  'Look!' he exclaimed, 'I see an opening in the sky, and the Son of Man standing at God's right hand.' The onlookers were shouting aloud, holding their hands over their ears as they did so.  Then they rushed at him as one man, dragged him out of the city, and began to stone him.  The witnesses meanwhile were piling their cloaks at the feet of a young man named Saul.  As Stephen was being stoned he could be heard saying, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.'  He fell to his knees and cried out in a loud voice, 'Lord, do not hold this sin against them.'  And with that he died."  (Acts 7:54-60)

Surely his acute view of reality buffered Stephen's agony as stones were hurled at him.  He was given grace appropriate to the situation, just at the moment he needed it.  I like to remember this.  When I face a trial, God is there.  He gives me just the glimpse of Him that I need, exactly when I need it.  I know this through faith, and I know it from experience.  God stands ready with what I need.

I have never been pelted with physical stones, but I've endured a few pebbles.  Smirks and snickers and snubs for living and speaking the truth of God.  I like to remember that Jesus told us to expect nothing less.  "You will be hated by all on account of Me."  (Matthew 10:22).

I pray to remember the example of Stephen.  What a grace that the words of this first Christian martyr were written down:  leaving, in effect, a pattern for all who would come after him.  He looked at God, not at the situation.  He prayed.  He forgave.  And his actions were witnessed by one who would turn, in time, to God.

Stephen's pattern for dealing with stones is just as much a pattern for the pebbles.

Look to God.

Pray.

Forgive. 

And God stands ready with what we need.  

Painting:  Bernardo Cavallino, Martyrdom of St. Stephen 

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz 

A High Price

'How can we not say
that everywhere,
even when there is
no persecution,
there is a
high price to pay
for consistently
living the Gospel?'

(Pope Benedict XVI, An Invitation to Faith,
 Ignatius Press, 2007, p. 53)

That the Grace of Christ May Come

This morning as I read through a few blogs, I rediscovered a quote I'd first seen years ago... from no less than Blessed John Paul II.  It's the sort of thing that could make a person quake in her boots.  Yet, amazingly, it did no such thing to me when I first encountered it.  Now, years later, I find its assurance of divine providence, well - somehow comforting.  Intrigued?  Click here to visit Nunblog and read Pope John Paul II's words for yourself.   


"You victorious martyrs
who endured torments gladly
for the sake of our God and Savior,
you who have boldness of speech
towards the Lord Himself, 
you saints, 
intercede for us
who are timid and sinful men,
full of sloth, 
that the grace 
of Christ
may come upon us."
                      
                         St. Ephraim

No Matter What it Costs

We must 

love Him

with all

our might

and strength,

no matter

what it costs.

    

 St. Margaret Mary Alacoque

             






Painting: Stilke Hermann Anton 
Joan of Arc's Death at the Stake


This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Monthly Roundup

That Secret Martyrdom

'There are in fact two kinds of martyrdom.  
One takes place only in the heart, the other in both heart and body.
We too are capable of being martyrs, even without having anyone slay us.
 To die from someone's enmity is martyrdom out in the open.

To bear insults, to love a person who hates us, is martyrdom in secret.'

                                                                                 

St. Gregory the Great

Painting:  Jean-Leon Gerome, The Christian Martyrs' Last Prayer, 1883