Abbey-Roads2

A holy kind of levity.

Today is the original feast day of one of my favorite saints, Joseph of Cupertino, Franciscan priest and mystic.

When I lived in Assisi I was permitted to make an 8 day retreat in the solitude of his newly renovated apartments at the Sacred Convent. It was in these apartments that St. Joseph had been ‘imprisoned’ because of the extraordinary mystical phenomena that surrounded him. He was kept in solitude to keep him away from the curious who flocked to him because of the gift of levitation, for which he is best known. I had a friar who acted as my ‘Martha” in the solitude of my retreat, bringing me food and drink and celebrating Mass for me in the saint’s oratory. It was a memorable experience for my life. Immediately afterwards, on the feast of the Stigmata, I was professed in the third order of St. Francis at the tomb of our Holy Father in the crypt of the Basilica.

Presented is a brief biography of St. Joseph:

“St. Joseph of Cupertino in prayer, he was called “the Flying Friar” because of his frequent levitations St. Joseph of Cupertino (1603-1668) was an Italian mystic whose life is a wonderful combination of a complete lack of natural capacity and an extraordinary supernatural efficiency.

He lacked every natural gift. He was incapable of passing a test, maintaining a conversation, taking care of a house, or even touching a dish without breaking it. He was called Brother Ass by his companions in the monastery.

He was born on June 17, 1603 into a family of poor artisans. Because of his father?s debts, he was born in a shed behind the house, which was in the hands of bailiffs. He was sickly and often at death?s door during his childhood, and at age seven he developed a gangrenous ulcer which was later cured by a religious man. He was always despised by his companions who called him a fool. Even his mother wearied of him and repudiated him for his lack of any human value. Later, when he entered the religious life, he faced worse difficulties. The Capuchins received him as a lay brother but his ineptitude and abstraction made him unbearable for the other religious. Often he was taken in ecstasy and, oblivious of what he was doing, he would drop the food or break the dishes and trays. As a penance, bits of broken plates were fastened to his habit as a humiliation and reminder not to do the same again. But he could not change. He could not even be trusted with serving the bread because he would forget the difference between the white and brown breads. Finally, considering that he was good for nothing, the religious took his habit and expelled him from the monastery.

Later, he declared that having the habit taken from him was the greatest suffering of his life and that it was as if his skin had been torn from his body. When he left the monastery he had lost part of his lay clothes. He was without a hat, boots, or stockings, and his coat was moth-eaten and worn. He presented such a sorry sight that when he passed a stable down the lane, dogs rushed out on him and tore his apparel to worse tatters. He escaped and continued along the road, but soon came upon some shepherds, who thought he was a miscreant and were about to give him a beating, when one of their number had pity on him and persuaded them to let him go free.” [snip] Read the conclusion here.

St. Joseph of Cupertino pray for me for the grace of conversion; and pray for all of us now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Conformity to Jesus Crucified
Today’s feast, once celebrated universally as an optional memorial, is now observed primarily by Franciscans. This feast had been permitted to enliven the hearts of men with the flame of love and devotion, as the prayer of the Mass for the day says;

Lord Jesus Christ,who reproduced in the flesh of the most blessed Francis, the sacred marks of your own sufferings, so that in a world grown cold our hearts might be filled with burning love of you, graciously enable us by his merits and prayers to bear the cross without faltering and to bring forth worthy fruits of penitence: You who are God, living and reigning with God the Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen

Here is an account of the event in the life of St. Francis.

From the Legenda Minor of St. Bonaventure (de Stigmatibus sacris, 1-4; ed. Quaracchi, 1941; pgg. 202-204) [snip]

“Two years before Francis, the faithful servant of Christ, gave his soul back to God, he was alone on the top of Mt. Alverna. There he had begun a fast of forty days in honor of the archangel Michael and was immersed more deeply than usual in the delights of heavenly contemplation. His soul became aglow with the ardor of fervent longing for heaven as he experienced within himself the operations of grace.

As he was drawn aloft through ardent longing for God one morning near the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, and was praying on the mountainside, he saw what appeared as a seraph with six bright wings gleaming like a fire descending from the heights of heaven. As this figure approached in swift flight and came near the man of God it appeared not only winged but also crucified. The sight of it amazed Francis and his soul experienced joy mingled with pain. He was delighted with the sight of Christ appearing to him so graciously and intimately and yet the awe-inspiring vision of Christ nailed to the cross aroused in his soul a joy of compassionate love.  When the vision vanished after a mysterious and intimate conversation it left Francis aglow with seraphic love in his soul.

Externally, however, it left marks on his body like those of the Crucified as if the impression of a seal had been left on heated wax. The figures of the nails appeared immediately on his hands and feet. The heads of the nails were inside his hands but on top of his feet with their points extending through to the opposite side. His right side too showed a blood-red wound as if it had been pierced by a lance, and blood flowed frequently from it.”

The mystic penetration of Divine Love.

St. Francis of Assisi is the first recorded individual to have received the gift of the stigmata. Since his time other saints have received similar graces, one, St. Catherine of Siena prayed that her stigmata would remain invisible, which it did almost immediately.

God alone is the source of authentic stigmata, which is an external manifestation of the most ardent love and longing for God resulting in the spiritual wound of love in the heart. Teresa of Avila discusses this in her writing, Interior Castle; Sixth Mansion. This wound of love, that many believe St. Therese of Lisieux also experienced, effects an intense love for the cross, penetrating to an intimate degree the spiritual will, hence it can emanate from God alone. It is a source of ecstatic joy, simultaneously delightful while excruciatingly painful. (Liberal quote from Garrigou-Lagrange)

Francis de Sales, a third order Franciscan, defends the veracity of St. Francis’ stigmata as something altogether spiritual in these words;

“Love has wonderful power to sharpen the imagination, so that it may penetrate even to the exterior. Yet the love which was within St. Francis of Assisi simply could not produce the openings in the flesh on the exterior. That is why the burning seraphim, coming to its help, darted at the saint rays of such penetrating light that it actually pierced the flesh with the exterior wounds of the Crucified which love had interiorly imprinted upon the soul.” (Treatise On the Love of God.)

In The Living Flame of Love, John of the Cross says such signs of God’s love and lofty graces are often given to founders of religious orders in proportion to their legacy and to carry on the original charism. He writes;

“Few persons have reached such heights. some have, however; especially those whose virtue and spirit was to be diffused among their children. For God accords to founders, with respect to the first fruits of the spirit, wealth and value commensurate with the greater or lesser following they will have in their doctrine and spirituality.” (Living Flame)

May the entire Franciscan order, even unfaithful and scandalous third order members such as myself, be inflamed today with a double portion of the spirit of our holy father St. Francis of Assisi.

Thoughts for the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross.

I love the desert fathers. If they only had showers. My VP at Dayton’s (eventually Marshall-Fields, now Macy’s.) was Greek and once in a conversation I spoke glowingly of the monks on Mt. Athos - hoping as an Orthodox Catholic he’d have some great tales about the holy mountain. He sneered - “I hate those monks - they never bathe!” He was very “The Devil Wears Prada.” yet, for all his high and mightiness, he enjoyed conversing with me.

When testing my vocation in monastic life, very few monasteries appeared to me to be observant enough for my ideals. Few seemed poor enough, or if I found a community that was poor, there seemed to be a lack of stability. While some ‘new’ orders seemed a tad pretentious and ambitious as well as lacking any spiritual maturity. Of course I found, in my opinion, the Carthusians to be the best, but I wasn’t suited to their life.

My pretentiousness.

My experiences in monasteries left me with a prejudice regarding other forms of religious life, and an imperious attitude towards new communities as well as hermits, not to mention neo-gyrovagues. Gradually, I imagined that I had learned never to judge whether a person or community was living a fervent life or not, understanding there may be many instances in the spiritual life of persons seeking the will of God that do not conform to my idealistic prejudices.  The thing is, I keep forgetting I learned that lesson.

Judging according to our own standards or experience.

There is a story from the desert fathers wherein a monk went to see another, renowned for his wisdom and holiness. The monk was scandalized that the father lived in relative luxury compared to what he had been used to in his scete. The father drank wine, slept on a bed of straw, bathed, and ate rather well, although he fasted and was faithful to the rule of psalmody and other exercises peculiar to the eremitical state.

The young monk left the father to return to his skete. The father knowing he had been scandalized called him back and questioned him as to his life. It turned out the monk had been a shepherd, sleeping in the fields and eating a very meager diet, without any comforts, no bathing, except in the river, and so on. In the skete, he had regular meals, a mat to sleep upon, in a hut for shelter.

The father then told him of his past. He had lived like a prince in Rome, with many attendants and great luxury, dining sumptuosly every day. Upon his conversion he renounced all of that and went into the desert to live the ascetic life as the young monk could see.

Filled with compunction, the young monk recognised his presumption and asked the father’s forgiveness, often returning to him for spiritual instruction.

I keep forgetting this story.

Religious, that is.

Audrey Hepburn as Sr. Luke in “The Nun’s Story” - Dr. Fortunati was challenging her on her vocation - as well as her hiding behind her religious decorum when confronted.

Hepburn played the perfect nun - that is why viewers of the film are so disconsolate when she leaves the convent at the end of the film. Nevertheless, she did not have a vocation. It was upsetting in 1959 and is upsetting today, considering so many women left their convents after Vatican II. You just want Sr. Luke to be the perfect nun and become a saint because of it.

Hiding the flashlight under the habit.

What was so great about the film is how it portrayed convent/monastic life - which passed for religious life - however it wasn’t difficult to see that it had stagnated into external religious observance; perfectly pressed coifs, rigid adherence to communal practices, otherwise called decorum. Etc, etc. The perfect nun was the nun with the perfect habit, who became a “living rule”.

Manipulative.

One may experience it today. It’s almost play acting in some cases. The otherwise affable religious or priest can easily slip into a sort of pontification of superiority when challenged. Making grand pronouncements on the morality of a given situation or anything else that tends to betray their humanity - or their mistaken notions. It’s a useful tool in “fraternal correction” - it can also be a charitable put-down in some cases. It’s a form of hypocrisy, or pharisaism. It entails taking the higher moral ground and letting the person you are “correcting” know it. While the person one is correcting realizes you are no better. It can be a power thing.

On a mission from God.

People may disagree, but it happens frequently. One doesn’t have to be a priest or religious to employ such tactics. Although religious people are notorious for it. If it is consistent, it isn’t so bothersome. It’s when someone is inconsistent - in terms of a double life - yet takes out “the guns” in the name of truth, and religious superiority - that is when it becomes annoying.  It is thus when one recognizes that some religious are simply on a “God is on my side” power trip - especially when their authority,  is challenged.

That is when these people need a Dr. Fortunati.

[Reprint from September 2006.]

Herod and the martyrdom of the Baptist.

The Gospel tells us Herod feared John, “knowing him to be a righteous and holy man.”  Which suggests that he had a great respect for the prophet as well.  We are told “When he heard him speak he was very much perplexed, yet he liked to listen to him.”  Thus we know Herod admired John, and loved to listen to his preaching, perhaps enthralled with his wisdom and inspired by his spirituality.  Herod obviously liked the study of theology and religion.  Nevertheless, his conscience must have been uneasy at some of what John taught, and not just with the reprimand John gave as regards Herod’s adultery.  It seems to me if Herod had not been in an irregular relationship condemned by John, he perhaps would have been one of John’s converts. 

Obviously it was his self-indulgence and worldly cares that got the better of him, despite his liking for religious things and his brand of  idiorhythmic spirituality.  A man ruled by his lusts, anxious for the respect of men, he beheaded the Baptist because of a rash promise.  He eliminated his adversary.  Imprisoning John couldn’t silence him, or reverse the condemnation of Herod’s inordinate affections - it couldn’t change the fact that Herod was publicly living a sinful life.  Herod couldn’t amend God’s law.  The martyrdom of John verified the Truth even more explicitly, and revealed how debauched and pathetic the deluded Herod really was.  With the Baptist gone, Herod’s adultery went unchallenged, and a false freedom of conscience reigned in his court.

Compromise.

Today we have Catholics - many of whom are  out and out ‘dissidents’, who have the form of religion - in fact they love religion, theology and spirituality, with all the degrees to prove it - yet Church teaching and authority gets in the way of their lifestyle or agenda.  Their power is not absolute - so they can’t behead anyone who contradicts them.  Instead they work to twist the truth, preserving elements of what ‘works’ for their purposes, and strive to justify their immorality through compromise.

The preaching of John the Baptist, the message of Christ and the Gospel, now transmitted through the Church, is a call to repentance and conversion.  It isn’t an affirmation of sinful lifestyles and habits at variance with Natural Law and the Commandments.  We as individuals are called to change our lives, we cannot change God or His Law to suit ourselves.  No matter how intricate our theology, how enlightened our spirituality, or how much we enjoy liturgy and religious things, there is an obedience we owe to God, without regard to human respect.

Impenitence.

I find it interesting that Herod continued to be fascinated by religion after the death of John, which is demonstrated by his curiosity about Jesus.  He was anxious to see Jesus after Pilot sent the Lord to him during the Passion.  He was hoping to see some miracle.  Yet the blood of John sealed his heart in impenitence, and he was unable to recognize Christ - he couldn’t perceive even a glimmer of Christ’s holiness.  It is kind of frightening.

Some people love religion, without loving the Truth.