The Desert Monks

The following comes from Brother Marcus:

What is a monk? The word ‘monk’ is derived from the Greek word monakhos which means ‘alone’ or ‘solitary’. In the early years of the fourth century, which are generally accepted as the embryonic years of Christian monasticism, individual Christian ascetics migrated into the desert wilderness of Egypt to engage in a solitary life of spiritual discipline. Their extraordinary way of life became an inspiration to great numbers of Christians who, following their example, withdrew from the secular world and entered the desert wilderness. Why this migration took place, how such Christians were perceived and why so many over so many years followed the way of the monakhos are issues too complex to be studied here.

Nevertheless, we should reflect upon how in the preceding centuries the persecution of Christians throughout the Roman Empire had become ever more frequent and violent, culminating in the Great Persecution instituted by the Emperor Diocletian in the year 303. It was to last for more than eight years, during which time thousands of Christians were killed and many more abused in the most terrible of ways, and it is reasonable to assume that during those years many Christians fled into the wilderness to lead a Christian way of life free from oppression. The Great Persecution finally came to an end when Constantine became emperor in the year 312.

That earlier Christians, of the second and third centuries, may also have looked to the desert as a place of refuge is a matter of speculation as there are few records to guide us. It is probable, however, that during this period numerous Christians, albeit unrecorded, left the main centres of population and entered the wilderness to engage in the spiritual life free from religious intolerance, thereby establishing a precedent for the later solitaries of the fourth century. Another factor to be considered is the effect of the Edict of Milan, issued by Constantine and Licinius in the year 313. This edict granted religious freedom to Christians throughout the empire, and returned to them any properties previously confiscated by the state. As a consequence, the fortunes of the Church were reversed and the power of the bishops increased. This unexpected turn of events was not without its problems, of which one in particular stands out.

In many cases the motivation for spiritual perfection took second place to the desire for wealth, power and status. The result was that nominal Christians were to be found everywhere whilst spiritually aspiring Christians were just as few as before the time of Constantine. Furthermore, conflicts arose within the Church concerning orthodoxy, heresy and the parameters of authority. In the light of these seismic changes it is easy to understand how spiritually minded Christians of the fourth century fled not so much from the material world but from the materialism infesting the Church, and from court bishops who were fighting each other for choice territories. One can imagine the traditionally minded Christians, fleeing from the unseemly politics of the Church, entering the wilderness of Egypt and Palestine to return to the ancient prescribed life of simplicity and spiritual purity.
 

The word ‘monk’ was not then a commonplace name as it is today. Initially, the term ‘monk’ (monakhos) was used specifically to describe a man living a spiritual life in solitude. Other terms were also used to describe these solitary ascetics, such as the word ‘hermit’ or ‘eremite’ (from the Greek eremos, denoting an ‘inhabitant of a desert’). They were also called ‘anchorites’ (from anachoréo, I withdraw). Eremites or anchorites were predominantly men who withdrew from the company of other people to dwell alone in isolation, although it is apparent that not all of them sought complete solitude as it is recorded that many were accompanied by a disciple. As the fourth century progressed many inspired Christians of both sexes were forming religious communities in the Egyptian desert. These communities were called coenobia – a term derived from the Greek word koinobion indicating a shared or common life. Their members were known as coenobites, but as time passed they were also called monks.

In the early years of the fourth century, the most renowned ‘solitary’, St. Anthony (c. 251–356), introduced a form of community life known as the eremitical, when he undertook the spiritual direction and organisation of the many spiritual aspirants who had gathered about him. At about the same time St. Pachomius (c. 292–348) founded what may be considered the first conventional monastery, or coenobium, at Tabenna in the far south of Egypt [see map]. These community models or systems spread rapidly and in a relatively short time were firmly established throughout the Levant. Eremites or hermits were not specifically bound to a Rule such as that undertaken by those dwelling in a ceonobium and, unlike the coenobites, were generally free to wander at will.
  

Read the rest here.

Depression and the Saints

The following comes from the Catholic Exchange:

Depression can often have a physiological aspect, which means that an examination by a physician will frequently be a good starting point in addressing the situation and any underlying problems. Severe, ongoing depression isn’t something we should become resigned to or attempt to cope with alone; professional assistance should generally be obtained, usually after a doctor has ruled out a physical or chemical cause.

But almost everyone suffers from a mild form of depression from time to time, and in such situations, the experiences of some of the saints may be able to help and encourage us.

Is it possible that a saint — someone who has tasted the wonder and richness of divine love far more deeply than the rest of us have — could be troubled by a melancholy, restless spirit? Most definitely. For instance, the fourteenth-century virgin St. Flora of Beaulieu, after a normal childhood, refused to cooperate with her parents’ attempts to find her a husband; instead, she announced that she was dedicating herself to God and entered a convent. This, however — even though it was her calling — precipitated an intense and prolonged period of depression, affecting her behavior in a way that greatly irritated the other sisters. Eventually, with the help of an understanding confessor, Flora weathered this period and made great spiritual progress because of it.

Two seventeenth-century French saints in particular suffered greatly from depression — for very different reasons. The Jesuit priest St. Noel Chabanel was one of the North American Martyrs; he worked among the Huron Indians with St. Charles Garnier. Missionaries often become very sympathetic toward those to whom they minister, but this was not the case for Fr. Noel; he felt a strong repugnance for the Indians and their customs. This, along with difficulty in learning their language and similar challenges, caused him a lasting sense of sadness and spiritual suffocation. How did he respond? By making a solemn vow never to give up or to leave his assignment — a vow that he kept until the day of his martyrdom.

A different form of heroic sanctity was practiced by St. Jane Frances de Chantal. She was happily married to Baron de Chantal for eight years; when her husband died, her father-in-law — a vain, stubborn old man — forced Jane and her three children to move in with him. It’s not surprising that Jane became very depressed. What is perhaps surprising (at least to our society, in which people make a high art of complaining and of claiming “victimhood” status) is how Jane responded: she chose to remain cheerful and to respond to the unkindness of her father-in-law with charity and understanding. 

Much later in life, even after forming a warm and holy friendship with the great bishop St. Francis de Sales and working with him to establish a religious order for older women, Jane still experienced times of suffering and trial — but she continued to respond by remaining cheerful and active.

Keeping busy also proved to be a lifeline amid the seas of depression for St. Augustine, one of the greatest figures of the Church — and, indeed, of Western Civilization. His mother, St. Monica, no doubt merited great graces simply by patiently bearing her brilliant son’s moodiness and unpredictability. Augustine was searching for truth, but on his own terms, and it was many years before — assisted by his mother’s innumerable prayers and his admiration for the great bishop St. Ambrose — he finally surrendered to God and accepted Baptism. Soon afterward his mother died and then his own son, and during the more than forty years that followed, his powerful personality—sanctified but not erased by divine grace — often manifested itself in a tendency toward both intense anger and severe depression. St. Augustine rose above these shackles through prayer, sacrifice, and work. Indeed, his responsibilities as bishop and his writings in defense of the Church kept him very busy.

Another powerful personality — one also given to feelings of deep restlessness and grief — was possessed by St. Ignatius of Loyola. In his autobiography (written in the third person), Ignatius stated, “The things he saw strengthened him then and always gave him such strength in his faith that he often thought to himself: if there were no Scriptures to teach us of these matters of the Faith, he would be resolved to die for them, only because of what he had seen.” This sense of certainty and conviction had not come easily; after his conversion to the Faith, Ignatius had to struggle with a period of scrupulosity (in which he was tempted to despair of ever being worthy in God’s sight), followed by a depression so severe that he actually considered suicide. Of course, he persevered, and God drew him out of the dark pit of inner suffering, through which he had been prepared to do great things on behalf of Christ and His Church.

St. Ignatius experienced first-hand what he was later to refer to as desolation in his Spiritual Exercises. Much akin to depression, desolation is a state in which we feel restless, irritated, uncomfortable, unsure of ourselves and our decisions, assailed by doubts, and unable to persevere in our good intentions. According to Ignatius, God cannot cause desolation, although He may allow it for His own purposes — such as to remind us of our profound need for Him, or to “shake up” a sinner so as to bring about repentance. Feelings of desolation, Ignatius notes, are often caused or provoked by the evil one, especially after we’ve taken practical steps to grow in holiness or to discern and follow God’s will. Based in part on his own experience, St. Ignatius of Loyola offers three very important pieces of advice to anyone undergoing desolation:

·Don’t change an earlier good resolution, for after you’ve made a decision that’s pleasing to God, the Devil may try to make you have second thoughts.

·Intensify your religious activities — that is, spend more time in prayer, meditation, and good deeds. For if Satan’s temptations merely cause you to increase your efforts to grow in holiness, he’ll have an incentive to leave you alone.

·Persevere in patience, for the Devil’s authority and ability to assault you is strictly limited by God, meaning that you’ll be relieved of your spiritual sufferings if only you hold out long enough.

As Ignatius discovered, depression can be a great spiritual challenge — and also a great opportunity for growth. Let us keep this in mind whenever we suffer from depression and turn to the saints for their intercession.

Read more here.

You Are My One Thing by Hannah McClure and Bethel Music

Why do Catholic Bibles have seven more books than Protestant Bibles?

Blessed Augustus Czartoryski, SDB

The following comes from the CNA:

August Czartoryski was born on 2 August 1858 in Paris, France, the firstborn son to Prince Ladislaus of Poland and Princess Maria Amparo, daughter of the Duke and Queen of Spain. The noble Czartoryski Family had been living in exile in France for almost 30 years, in the Lambert Palace. Here, with the hope of restoring unity in Poland, they continued to direct activities between their fellow Polish countrymen and the European chancellery.

Plans for a future Prince

It was already planned that Augusto would be a future "reference point" for this restoration and would carry on the "Czartoryski" name. God's designs, however, were to unfold differently.
When Augusto was 6, his mother died of tuberculosis; the disease was also transmitted to him, and for the rest of his life he would be plagued by ill health. Although he had to make "forced pilgrimages" with his father to Italy, Switzerland, Egypt and Spain in search of a cure, he never regained his health.

As he grew up, Augusto felt that he was not meant for the life of nobility, and one day, when he was 20 years old, he wrote to his father: "I confess to you that I am tired [of all the parties]; they are superficial entertainments that cause me anguish and I feel myself "forced' to make acquaintances with others at these banquets".

Augusto already received spiritual direction from his tutor, Joseph Kalinsowski, who would later become a Carmelite, and who, before leaving for Carmel in 1877, wrote to Prince Ladislaus to suggest that it would be wise, considering the boy's love for God, to entrust him to the direction of a priest.

Encounter with Don Bosco

Prince Ladislaus accepted the counsel given by Augusto's tutor, and Fr Stanislaus Kubowicz began to guide him. Augusto was already feeling more and more called to religious life and was hoping for a clearer indication of what God wanted from him: this "decisive event" took place when he was 25 and met Don Bosco, founder of the Salesians.

When Don Bosco came to Paris and celebrated Mass in the family chapel of the Lambert Palace, Augusto saw in this holy founder and teacher the "father of his soul" and guide for his future. While Augusto remained quiet and withdrawn in the face of matrimony plans made for him by his father, he had no intention of continuing the "noble line". Indeed, after his first encounter with the Salesian saint, he was more resolute than ever to answer God's call by becoming a Salesian.

When his father gave him permission, Augusto would travel to Turin to meet with Don Bosco and participate in spiritual retreats. He became comfortable with the "poverty" of the Salesian Oratory and was not disturbed by his frequent ill health or his father's opposition; he instead saw God's hand in all these circumstances.

He would say: "If God wants this, all will go well since he can take away every obstacle. If he does not want this, then neither do I".

A "Prince' for God's Kingdom

Don Bosco was somewhat reluctant to accept Augusto into the Salesian community: it took Pope Leo XIII to remove his doubts when he gave Augusto this message: "Tell Don Bosco that it is the Pope's will that he receives you among the Salesians".

Don Bosco replied: "Well then, my dear son, I accept you. From this moment, you are a part of the Salesian Family and I desire that you belong here until you die".

In 1887 he began his novitiate under the guidance of Don Giulio Barberis. The young man had to overcome many "habits" and adjust to community life, schedule, frugal meals and other sacrifices. All this he did with great serenity and abandonment to God.

When his father came to try to convince him to return home and accept his nobility as "Prince", he refused. On 24 November 1887, the day of his vesting in the hands of Don Bosco, the holy founder whispered into Augusto's ear: "Courage, my prince! Today we have conquered, and I can also say with great joy that one day when you become a priest you will do much for your Country".

One year as Christ's priest

Don Bosco died two months later. Augusto's health was also worsening and his father continued to try to dissuade him from becoming a priest, using his ill health as an "excuse".

When Prince Ladislaus asked the "help" of Cardinal Parocchi to dismiss him from the Salesians, Augusto wrote: "In full liberty I made my vows and I did this with great joy of heart. From that day I continue to live in the Congregation with an immense peace of spirit, and I thank the Lord for allowing me to know the Salesian Family and for having called me to become a Salesian".

On 2 April 1892 he was ordained a priest by the Bishop of Ventimiglia. Although Prince Ladislaus was not present at the Ordination, a month later, joined by the entire family in Mentone, he reconciled himself with his son's decision and renounced his own dreams of prestige and nobility for Augusto.

Fr Augusto died on 8 April 1893 in Alassio, where he lived his year as a priest, occupying a room which looked out onto the courtyard where the children of the Oratory played. He was 35 years old. 

If I Give It All by Will Reagan & United Pursuit

Saint of the day: Alphonsus Ligouri

The following comes from the American Catholic site:
Moral theology, Vatican II said, should be more thoroughly nourished by Scripture, and show the nobility of the Christian vocation of the faithful and their obligation to bring forth fruit in charity for the life of the world. Alphonsus, declared patron of moral theologians by Pius XII in 1950, would rejoice in that statement.

In his day, Alphonsus fought for the liberation of moral theology from the rigidity of Jansenism. His moral theology, which went through 60 editions in the century following him, concentrated on the practical and concrete problems of pastors and confessors. If a certain legalism and minimalism crept into moral theology, it should not be attributed to this model of moderation and gentleness.

At the University of Naples he received, at the age of 16, a doctorate in both canon and civil law by acclamation, but soon gave up the practice of law for apostolic activity. He was ordained a priest and concentrated his pastoral efforts on popular (parish) missions, hearing confessions, forming Christian groups.

He founded the Redemptorist congregation in 1732. It was an association of priests and brothers living a common life, dedicated to the imitation of Christ, and working mainly in popular missions for peasants in rural areas. Almost as an omen of what was to come later, he found himself deserted, after a while, by all his original companions except one lay brother. But the congregation managed to survive and was formally approved 17 years later, though its troubles were not over.

Alphonsus’ great pastoral reforms were in the pulpit and confessional—replacing the pompous oratory of the time with simplicity, and the rigorism of Jansenism with kindness. His great fame as a writer has somewhat eclipsed the fact that for 26 years he traveled up and down the Kingdom of Naples, preaching popular missions.

He was made bishop (after trying to reject the honor) at 66 and at once instituted a thorough reform of his diocese.

His greatest sorrow came toward the end of his life. The Redemptorists, precariously continuing after the suppression of the Jesuits in 1773, had difficulty in getting their Rule approved by the Kingdom of Naples. Alphonsus acceded to the condition that they possess no property in common, but a royal official, with the connivance of a high Redemptorist official, changed the Rule substantially. Alphonsus, old, crippled and with very bad sight, signed the document, unaware that he had been betrayed. The Redemptorists in the Papal States then put themselves under the pope, who withdrew those in Naples from the jurisdiction of Alphonsus. It was only after his death that the branches were united.

At 71 he was afflicted with rheumatic pains which left incurable bending of his neck; until it was straightened a little, the pressure of his chin caused a raw wound on his chest. He suffered a final 18 months of “dark night” scruples, fears, temptations against every article of faith and every virtue, interspersed with intervals of light and relief, when ecstasies were frequent.

Alphonsus is best known for his moral theology, but he also wrote well in the field of spiritual and dogmatic theology. His Glories of Mary is one of the great works on that subject, and his book Visits to the Blessed Sacrament went through 40 editions in his lifetime, greatly influencing the practice of this devotion in the Church.