St Dominic (Abbot) vs the Snakes

St Anselm of Canterbury/Aosta/Bec

Today is also the feast of St Anselm. I can be a little slow, so I've never really grasped the so-called Ontological Argument, but I highly recommend an attentive reading of his Cur Deus homo - translated here in two PDF files.

I suspect that St Anselm doesn't get a fair hearing these days - his masterly exposition of the theology of Satisfaction is frequently confused with Protestant Substitution theories. (I also suspect that his 'juridical' interpretation of the Redemption has more scriptural and patristic support than his critics might concede.) Additionally, he's sometimes accused of being a rationalist - although if one takes the opening paragraphs of Cur Deus homo seriously, he's quite clear that reason does not at all supplant faith or grace. Rather, the possession of theological truths by means of reason should be understood as subsequent, supplementary and complementary to their acceptance by faith. Our faith is rational - so a grace-enlivened reason may understand the logic of what we believe and thereby grasp more profitably the truths of the faith. Reason deepens our faith rather than replaces it.

Prayer of St Thomas Aquinas

Source:

Grant me, O Lord my God,
a mind to know you,
a heart to seek you,
wisdom to find you,
conduct pleasing to you,
faithful perseverance in waiting for you,
and a hope of finally embracing you.

Amen.

Blessed are the pure in heart - they shall see God.

News from Naples

I wish that I had this news from a more reliable source than the Telegraph, but this is interesting and possibly worrying:

An appeal for divine intervention in the rubbish crisis in Naples appears to have failed after a phial said to contain the blood of the city's patron saint failed to liquify.
For several weeks the city has had to cope with thousands of tonnes of uncollected rubbish because of a dispute about disposal.
In a prayer vigil to solve the crisis - led by Crescenzio Sepe, the city's cardinal - thousands gathered in Naples's historic Duomo to pray to St Gennaro, who died in 305AD.
As part of the ceremony, a phial containing the saint's blood was put on display and venerated by worshippers.
The phial of dried blood is usually displayed on the first Sunday in May, when it is reputed to turn to liquid, ensuring the city success and safety.
But it is also brought out in times of crisis - most recently in 1979 when the city was in the grip of a cholera epidemic.
Worshippers at the vigil, which began on Friday, were asked to pray to St Gennaro for help but after three days the "miracle of the blood" has failed to happen - prompting increased fears for the future.

More on St Agnes

My St Agnes posts are here and here.
Amy Welborn gathers links together here, along with a great picture of the Holy Father and the lambs.
Don Marco gives a beautiful homily for today. (Such a shame that I've never heard him preach!)
Fr Z also has a devotion to St Agnes and gives his own Patristic/Latinist's slant. In particular, this is interesting:

Pope St. Damasus composed a panegyric, an elogia, inscribed in gorgeous letters on marble (designed and executed by Dionysius Philocalus) in honor of Roman saints, including Agnes. This was the period when the Roman shifted from Greek to Latin. Damasus was also trying to make a social statement with these great inscriptions, set up at various places about the City. The panegyic of St. Agnes was placed in the cemetery near the saint’s tomb, but through the ages it was lost. Amazingly, it was at last rediscovered in 1728 inside the basilica, whole and complete: it had been used upside down, fortunately as a paving stone!

Now it is affixed to the wall in the corridor descending to the narthex. Its discovery was a find of vast importance.

FAMA REFERT SANCTOS DUDUM RETULISSE PARENTES
AGNEN CUM LUGUBRES CANTUS TUBA CONCREPUISSET
NUTRICIS GREMIUM SUBITO LIQUISSE PUELLAM
SPONTE TRUCIS CALCASSE MINAS RABIEMQUE TYRANNI
URERE CUM FLAMMIS VOLUISSET NOBILE CORPUS
VIRIBUS INMENSUM PARVIS SUPERASSE TIMOREM
NUDAQUE PROFUSUM CRINEM PER MEMBRA DEDISSE
NE DOMINI TEMPLUM FACIES PERITURA VIDERET
O VENERANDA MIHI SANCTUM DECUS ALMA PUDORIS
UT DAMASI PRECIBUS FAVEAS PRECOR INCLYTA MARTYR

It is told that one day the holy parents recounted that Agnes, when the trumpet had sounded its sad tunes, suddenly left the lap of her nurse while still a little girl and willingly trod upon the rage and the threats of the cruel tyrant. Though he desired to burn the noble body in the flames, with her little forces she overcame immense fear and, gave her loosened hair to cover her naked limbs, lest mortal eye might see the temple of the Lord. O one worthy of my veneration, holy glory of modesty, I pray you, O illustrious martyr, deign to give ear to the prayers of Damasus.

[Click on the photo for a closer view]
I snapped a photo of this stone, with the intention of doing a post at a later date about early Christian inscriptions. The lettering style is very distinctive - these are the so-called Damasine letters which were the work of Furius Dionysius Filocalus who was the Pontiff's calligrapher. Pope Damasus did a huge amount of work related to the preservation and veneration of the martytrs' relics, and frequently composed monumental inscriptions which were then carved into stone in this distinctive script.

Behold the lambs...

Whilst out at the Basilca of St Agnes outside the Walls, I managed to get a picture of the lambs which were solemnly blessed this morning and will be used to make Pallia.

I also venerated the sacred relics of St Agnes.

The Miracle of Bl Piux IX at St Agnes Outside the Walls

I made a pilgrimage this morning to the Basilica of S.Agnese Fuori le Mura and came across the following fresco in a chapel which leads off the courtyard just inside the main entrance from the Via Nomentana.
I had read previously that Bl Pius IX had miraculously escaped injury whilst visiting the Basilica, and a little digging turned up the following article from the New York Times of 13 April 1905:

To Canonise Pius IX
Pope Receives Surviving Witnesses of Supposed Miracle of 1855.

ROME, April 12. -- an interesting ceremony took place this morning in the Basilica of St Agnes, 2 miles outside of Rome. The building stands over the catacombs, where, among others the body of St Agnes is buried.
While Pius IX on April 12, 1855 was receiving the College of the Propaganda in the Basilica the floor gave way and all present were precipitated into the catacombs, 20 feet below. Nobody was injured, and this, by some persons, was considered a miracle.
The only survivors of the accident the Rev. Dr. Richard L. Burtsell of Rondout, N.Y., and Archbishop Rubian, the resident representative of the Armenians in Rome. In the Basilica this morning Dr. Burtsell celebrated high mass and Archbishop Rubian intoned the Te Deum and bestowed the benediction on the members of the College of the Propaganda.
The Pope later in the day received Dr. Burtsell and Archbishop Rubian. The Pontiff took the occasion to speak of Pius IX. He says that many persons were urging him to begin the informative process towards his canonisation.
"Miracle of the Basilica of St Agnes," the Pope continued, "is one of the events which will be brought forward to establish the fact that Pius IX performs miracles. It is a good thing that there are living witnesses to give evidence."

On either side of the picture are lists of those who survived the incident. To the left are the various dignitaries who escaped, and to the right is a list of seminarians from the Propaganda College who survived, including Burtsell and Rubian. It would be interesting to establish whether the figures in the painting true to life. Bl Pius IX is, of course, clearly recognizable and I suspect that at least the senior dignitaries portrayed are intended to be realistic. If you look at the figure of the Cardinal who is lying underneath a fallen beam in the bottom left of the picture, you will see that he bears a more than passing resemblance to Cardinal Antonelli who was certainly present.

Edited to add:
I forgot to mention that there's another interpretation of what happened to Bl Pius IX. Some superstitious sorts believed that he had the 'evil eye' - not that he himself was evil or malevolent, but that he was an involuntary bringer of ill-fortune. This book explains:

Ask a Roman about the late Pope's evil eye reputation, and he will answer: "They said so, and it seems really to be true. If he had not the jettatura, it is very odd that everything he blessed made fiasco. We all did very well in the campaign against the Austrians in '48. We were winning battle after battle, and all was gaiety and hope, when suddenly he blessed the cause, and everything went to the bad at once. Nothing succeeds with anybody or anything when he wishes well to them. When he went to S. Agnese to hold a great festival, down went the floor, and the people were all smashed together. Then he visited the column to the Madonna in the Piazza di Spagna, and blessed it and the workmen; of course one fell from the scaffold the same day and killed himself. He arranged to meet the King of Naples at Porto d'Anzio, when up came a violent gale, and a storm that lasted a week; another arrangement was made, and then came the fracas about the ex-queen of Spain.
"Again, Lord C------ came in from Albano, being rather unwell; the Pope sent him his blessing, when, pop! he died right off in a twinkling. There was nothing so fatal as his blessing. I do not wonder the workmen at the column in the Piazza di Spagna refused to work in raising it unless the Pope stayed away!"

St Agnes' Eve

The Seraphic Single passes on a superstition about tonight. As Keats writes:

They told her how, upon St. Agnes' Eve,
Young virgins might have visions of delight,
And soft adorings from their loves receive
Upon the honey'd middle of the night,
If ceremonies due they did aright;
As, supperless to bed they must retire,
And couch supine their beauties, lily white;
Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require
Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.

Seraphic kindly translates this into prose for us:

Single gals may dream about their future spouse. Just don't eat your supper, and then don't look behind you or upwards when you go to bed. And, um, ask the intercession of St. Agnes, I guess.

Of course, this all seems very ironic when you actually do some research into the martyrdom of St Agnes...

St Agnes

On Monday we celebrate the Feast of St Agnes. Every year, lambs are taken from the Church of St Agnes Outside the Walls to the Vatican for a special Papal blessing. The wool from these lambs is used to make the pallia worn by Metropolitan Archbishops. Orbis Catholicus was there a couple of years ago to see the lambs in the Church of St Agnes. I'm hoping to do the same, but have been unable to track down what time the lambs are at the church. Any of my Roman or non-Roman readers know this?

On the Feast of the Holy Innocents

Herod was furious when he realised that he had been outwitted by the wise men, and in Bethlehem and its surrounding district he had all the male children killed who were two years old or under, reckoning by the date he had been careful to ask the wise men. It was then that the words spoken through the prophet Jeremiah were fulfilled:
A voice was heard in Ramah,
sobbing and loudly lamenting:
it was Rachel weeping for her children,
refusing to be comforted because they were no more.

I've spent this morning in a mostly meditative mood because of today's feast. It seems to pose a lot of tough questions when we look at the overall picture. Certainly the Church venerates them as martyrs and for that reason we celebrate their entry into eternal glory, but I wonder whether we have the courage to face the awful reality that their martyrdom represents.
One might consider their birth into eternal life as being an example of predestination and wholly unmerited grace. These infants had done nothing in their lives to deserve the honour of martyrdom; they did not preach the Good News, they knew nothing of Christ, but in utter passivity they were baptised in their own blood as they died due to Herod's hatred and fear of the Infant Christ.
We see in their slaughter the fact that to those He has predestined for eternal life, God gives the means for salvation. But what means we see in the deaths of the Holy Innocents! If I might push the baptism imagery a little further, one might ask whether Herod's solders were the ministers of this Baptism, whether their sword thrusts were the form and the blood of the infants was the matter of this gruesome sacrament. I'm sure you can see how this is disturbing. To what extent can we describe the massacre of the Holy Innocents as being part of God's plan?
Consider the sorrow of their parents. It would have seemed to them fantastical, absurd and grotesque to argue that there was anything good about the deaths of their little ones. They would have seen simply the brutality of Herod and wept for their slain babies. However, we realise that these children have entered into Heavenly Glory with the unique dignity of having been slain in place of Christ.
I'm not sure what conclusions we should draw from all this. I think, however, that the martyrdom of the Holy Innocents should remind us that we should be very humble when we try to speak of providence, God's plan for us, and His ability to bring good out of the evil which surrounds us. We should be very careful about speaking too definitively about how we see or don't see God's hand at work in the world.

The Death of Stephen; The Conversion of Saul

From The Newman Reader:

When the blood of Stephen was shed, Saul, then a young man, was standing by, "consenting unto his death," and "kept the raiment of them that slew him." [Acts xxii. 20.] Two speeches are recorded of the Martyr in his last moments; one, in which he prayed that God would pardon his murderers,—the other his witness, that he saw the heavens opened, and Jesus on God's right hand. His prayer was wonderfully answered. Stephen saw his Saviour; the next vision of that Saviour to mortal man was vouchsafed to that very young man, even Saul, who shared in his murder and his intercession.

Strange indeed it was; and what would have been St. Stephen's thoughts could he have known it! The prayers of righteous men avail much. The first Martyr had power with God to raise up the greatest Apostle. Such was the honour put upon the first-fruits of those sufferings upon which the Church was entering. Thus from the beginning the blood of the Martyrs was the seed of the Church. Stephen, one man, was put to death for saying that the Jewish people were to have exclusive privileges no longer; but from his very grave rose the favoured instrument by whom the thousands and ten thousands of the Gentiles were brought to the knowledge of the Truth!

The Cause of Nennolina Advances

The Holy Father authorized the promulgation of various decrees of the Congregation for the Causes of Saints. Of especial note is the following:

le virtù eroiche della Serva di Dio Antonia Meo (detta Nennolina), Fanciulla; nata a Roma il 15 dicembre 1930 ed ivi morta il 3 luglio 1937.
The heroic virtues of the Servant of God Antonia Meo (called Nennolina), young girl; born in Rome the 15th of December 1930 and died there the 3rd of July 1937.

The age of this young Servant of God is astounding, and this declaration means that the recognition of a miracle through her intercession would lead to her beatification. I know that Don Marco of Vultus Christi has a special devotion to her, having spent much time in the Monastery of S. Croce in Gerusalemme where she is buried. He mentions her in this post:

Here in the Basilica of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme we have the tomb of the little Servant of God Antonietta Meo, fondly known as Nennolina. Nennolina was born on December 15, 1930. She was a lively and joyful child, quick to join in games at school. One day she fell while playing in the schoolyard and injured her knee on a stone. The pain did not go away: the doctors diagnosis was osteosarcoma. Her leg was amputated. A long way of the cross ensued. Hospitalized, she suffered atrocious pain. Nennolina died on July 3, 1937. She was not seven years old.
Nennolina left behind a diary and more than one hundred letterine (little letters) addressed to Jesus, to the Madonna, and to God the Father. Nennolina's letters reveal an extraordinary mystical union with Jesus Crucified. Her tomb, at the entrance to the Chapel of the Sacred Relics of the Cross and Passion in our Basilica, has become a place of pilgrimage. If canonized, Nennolina will be the youngest saint, not a martyr, in the history of the Church.

A man who is worth provoking...

A had a friendly dig at Don Marco for 'blogging about the Collect for the Friday of the First Week of Advent when the proper Collect for today's Mass is that of St Ambrose. Well, Don Marco replied with this short but wonderful Ambrosian post:

Saint Ambrose invites us to seek the Face of Christ in his mysteries, that is to say, in the Sacred Liturgy. When the Church opens the Lectionary, it is to discover the Face of Christ shining from its pages. When, in obedience to the command of the Lord, she breaks the Bread and offers the Chalice, all her joy is in the contemplation of His Eucharistic Face.

I Have Found Thee in Thy Mysteries
When I had the opportunity to choose a text for the card commemorating my ordination to the priesthood, I didn’t hesitate. Immediately, the words of Saint Ambrose came to mind: “Face to face, thou hast made thyself known to me, O Christ; I have found thee in thy mysteries.”

Go and read the whole thing!
Thank you Don Marco.

Religious Reporting at its Finest...

A very distasteful article about St Pio in the Times... I wouldn't link to it at all, but for the following paragraph:

Followers of Padre Pio believe he exuded "the odour of sanctity", had the gift of bipolarism (being in two places at once), healed the sick and could prophesy the future. He is said to have told the young Karol Wojtyla he would one day be elected Pope.

Bipolarism? I think someone needs to check his dictionary...

Let us will against ourselves, for ourselves...

St Augustine in De Trinitate XIII, telling us what power we should wish for:

For whereas two things make a man blessed, as we have argued above, to will well, and to be able to do what one wills, people ought not to be so perverse, as has been noted in the same discussion, as that a man should choose from the two things which make him blessed, the being able to do what he wills, and should neglect to will what he ought; whereas he ought first to have a good will, but great power afterwards. Further, a good will must be purged from vices, by which if a man is overcome, he is in such wise overcome as that he wills evil; and then how will his will be still good?
It is to be wished, then, that power may now be given, but power against vices, to conquer which men do not wish to be powerful, while they wish to be so in order to conquer men; and why is this, unless that, being in truth conquered, they feignedly conquer, and are conquerors not in truth, but in opinion? Let a man will to be prudent, will to be strong, will to be temperate, will to be just; and that he may be able to have these things truly, let him certainly desire power, and seek to be powerful in himself, and (strange though it be) against himself for himself. But all the other things which he wills rightly, and yet is not able to have, as, for instance, immortality and true and full felicity, let him not cease to long for, and let him patiently expect.

Newman on Jerome...

Or two occasionally pricklish Cardinals.
A snippet from Newman's Church of the Fathers where he speaks about the honour we owe to saints, even ones we're not fond of...

[...] a word or two about St. Jerome. I do not scruple then to say, that, were he not a saint, there are words and ideas in his writings from which I should shrink; but as he is a saint, I shrink with greater reason from putting myself in opposition, even in minor matters and points of detail, to one who has the magisterium of the Church pledged to his saintly perfection. I cannot, indeed, force myself to approve or like these particulars on my private judgment or feeling; but I can receive things on faith against both the one and the other. And I readily and heartily do take on faith these characteristics, words or acts, of this great Doctor of the Universal Church; and think it is not less acceptable to God or to him to give him my religious homage than my human praise.

I suppose the irony is that there are not a few voices in the Church who would have to say the same if/when Newman is raised to the altars.
More on Iraq
Deacon Scott Dodge sends on this link to an article (in English) in 3 Giorni on the plight of Iraqi Christians:

In the Massaken Barzi district, in the small building refitted as a church and dedicated to Saint Abraham of Ur of the Chaldees, father of all believers, the collective tragedy fragments into individual stories of escape. There is Jalal, who worked in a sports center north of Baghdad and had to sell house and car to pay ransom to his daughter’s kidnappers. There is little Martin, who lost the power of speech for two years after they had tortured him so as to tape his screams and send it to his father. There is Nader, a huge man who worked for the oil companies, also kidnapped and released only after handing over 20,000 dollars. «Our money must have whetted the appetite of our neighbors. They kidnap the Christians because they know that many of us have relatives abroad ready to pay the ransom». But it is not only social visibility that stirs envy and criminal hatred. The husband of Sherma, a thirty-year old widow, was killed because he worked as an interpreter for the American companies. And the religious matrix of the invaders has furnished facile pretexts for the fanatical brutality of the Muslims. «They said we were servants of the Crusaders, they made my daughters wear the veil, they sent threatening letters: either you go or we’ll slit your throats», says Alisha. They say that in the last months the peak of new violence came after the Regensburg speech: «They threatened us: nobody goes into church until the Pope apologises to the Muslims. And they said that for us it was over there: get out, ask your Pope for asylum». Word of mouth spoke of some priests and various young Christians being killed in reprisal after Regensburg. Michel, a taxi-driver escaped from Mossul, is not afraid of appearing homesick: «Believe me, friend: before the war we lived in peace. We worked, and went home safely». Nobody raises objections. Almost all of them agree. «Because every war stirred up around these parts is always a war against the Christians, they are always the first to pay», Robert, a Syro-Catholic, an unsentimental tour operator from Aleppo, says bitterly.

St Thomas

Don Marco blogs about the finger of St Thomas; I went to S. Croce today to venerate this relic as we hear the story of St Thomas's incredulity in today's Gospel. Then I went to the Lateran to re-visit one of my favourite statues - that of St Thomas...


... easily identified by his extended finger. I overheard one Italian explain to a group that it was a statue of St Thomas Aquinas. *sigh*

In the News

From the Telegraph:

The fog of war may have begun to lift 62 years ago but pockets linger on - not least in the art world where the theft and mayhem of the Nazis still cast a shadow.
This time the exploits of a daring woman war reporter, the US 101st Airborne Division - the Screaming Eagles of D-Day renown, a hoard of art plundered by Hermann Goering and a day in charge of Hitler's Alpine lair have left the National Gallery with a headache over one of its most popular paintings.
Cupid Complaining to Venus by Lucas Cranach the Elder, a Renaissance masterpiece worth millions, may have to be given up by the gallery after claims that it was looted by the Nazis and then grabbed by Patricia Lochridge Hartwell, a war correspondent for Women's Home Companion magazine, in 1945.
Miss Hartwell, who was with the Screaming Eagles in Germany after the bloodbath of Omaha Beach, is thought to have taken the painting when she was given control of Hitler's former residence for a day by Lt Col Robert S Smith of the 101st Airborne, an experience she wrote about in an article titled: "I governed Berchtesgaden."
(snip)
Texas-born Hartwell, who was 29 at the time, wrote of her day in charge: "As governor, I found I was also responsible for the safety of Goering's one hundred million dollars' worth of stolen art."
Her son, Jay Hartwell, told The Art Newspaper that his mother had been told she could help herself from a warehouse full of art. As well as taking the Cranach, Hartwell, who died in Hawaii in 1998, is also said to have had one of Goering's military sashes turned into a hat and handbag. The Cranach was painted in about 1525 and depicts Cupid complaining to Venus about being stung by bees while stealing a honeycomb, illustrating the moral that "life's pleasure is mixed with pain".

Also in the Telegraph:

A nun has broken her silence on the "miracle" recovery from Parkinson's Disease that may be pivotal in sainthood being confered on Pope John Paul II.
The 45-year-old French nun told superiors at her convent in Lyon that she was cured overnight after praying to the dead Pontiff.
Speaking to the Italian religious magazine Totus Tuus (All Yours) she recalled how her symptoms had worsened after she was first diagnosed in 2001 so that, by 2005, she was too weak even to watch television to see Pope John Paul give his final Easter blessing from the Vatican.
Two months later, on June 1, her Mother Superior suggested she pray to the Pope because "John Paul has not yet completed his work".
The nun said: "It was 5pm, I wrote it with difficulty and it was almost illegible."
The next morning she awoke, "amazed that I had been able to sleep.
"I jumped straight out of bed, because my body was no longer rigid and painful."
By June 3 "my left hand no longer trembled, I could write and I stopped taking my medicine."
Four days later, she said, her neurologist confirmed that her Parkinson's had gone.

Buon Onomastico Santo Padre

Joseph appears to us ever attentive to the voice of the Lord, who guides the events of history, and ready to follow the instructions, ever faithful, generous and detached in service, an effective teacher of prayer and of work in the hidden life at Nazareth. - Pope Benedict XVI