Showing posts with label St. Francis De Sales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. Francis De Sales. Show all posts

Thursday, January 24, 2019

Saint of the Day: Francis de Sales, Patron of Church Unity


The following comes from the CNA:

On Jan. 24, during the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity that runs from Jan. 18-25, Catholics will celebrate the life of St. Francis de Sales. A bishop and Doctor of the Church, his preaching brought thousands of Protestants back to the Catholic fold, and his writings on the spiritual life have proved highly influential.

The paradoxical circumstances of Francis' birth, in the Savoy region (now part of France) during 1567,  sum up several contradictory tendencies of the Church during his lifetime. The reforms of the Council of Trent had purified the Church in important ways, yet Catholics and Protestants still struggled against one another – and against the temptations of wealth and worldly power.

Francis de Sales, a diplomat's son, was born into aristocratic wealth and privilege. Yet he was born in a room that his family named the “St. Francis room” – where there hung a painting of that saint, renowned for his poverty, preaching in the wilderness. In later years, Francis de Sales would embrace poverty also; but early in his ministry, the faithful chided him for having an aristocratic manner.

In many ways, Francis' greatest achievements – such as the “Introduction to the Devout Life,” an innovative spiritual guidebook for laypersons, or his strong emphasis on the role of human love in Christian devotion – represent successful attempts to re-integrate seemingly disparate “worldly” and “spiritual” realities into one coherent vision of life.

Few people, however, would have predicted these achievements for Francis during his earlier years. As a young man, he studied rhetoric, the humanities, and law. He had his law degree by age 25, and was headed for a political career. All the while, he was keeping the depths of his spiritual life – such as his profound devotion to the Virgin Mary, and his resolution of religious celibacy – a secret from the world.
Eventually, however, the truth came out, and Francis clashed with his father, who had arranged a marriage for him. The Bishop of Geneva intervened on Francis' behalf, finding him a position in the administration of the Swiss Church that led to his priestly ordination in 1593. He volunteered to lead a mission to bring Switzerland, dominated by Calvinist Protestantism, back to the Catholic faith.

Taking on a seemingly impossible task, with only one companion – his cousin – the new priest adopted a harsh but hopeful motto: “Apostles battle by their sufferings, and triumph only in death." It would serve him well as he traveled through Switzerland, facing many Protestants' indifference or hostility, and being attacked by wild animals and even would-be assassins.

Some of Francis' hearers –even, for a time, John Calvin's protege Theodore Beza– found themselves captivated by the thoughtful, eloquent and joyful manner of the priest who implored their reunion with the Church. But he had more success when he began writing out these sermons and exhortations, slipping them beneath the doors that had been closed against him.

This pioneering use of religious tracts proved surprisingly effective at breaking down the resistance of the Swiss Calvinists, and it is estimated that between 40,000 and 70,000 of them returned to the Church through his efforts. He also served as a spiritual director, both in person and through written correspondence, with the latter format inspiring the “Introduction to the Devout Life.” 

In 1602, Francis was chosen to become the Bishop of Geneva, a position he did not seek or desire. Accepting the position, however, he gave the last twenty years of his life in ongoing sacrifice, for the restoration of Geneva's churches and religious orders. He also helped one of his spiritual directees, the widow and future saint Jane Frances de Chantal, to found an order with a group of women.

Worn out by nearly thirty years of arduous travel and other burdens of Church leadership, Francis fell ill in 1622 while visiting one of a convent he had helped to found in Lyons. He died there, three days after Christmas that year. St. Francis de Sales was canonized in 1665, and honored as a Doctor of the Church in 1877.

Because of the crucial role of writing in his apostolate, St. Francis de Sales is the patron of writers and journalists. He is also widely credited with restoring, during his own day, a sense of what the Second Vatican Council would later call the “universal call to holiness” – that is, the notion that all people, not only those in formal religious life, are called to the heights of Christian sanctification.

Sunday, October 22, 2017

What to Dump For a Better Life

The following comes from the Integrated Catholic Life:
We’ve got a dumpster coming today for some household cleanup, an October cleaning of sorts to purge the house of many things—old broken but non-antique furniture, a basketball hoop that has seen better days, wet carpet pulled up from a home improvement project, and a wooden swing that served us well for many summers but is now warped and falling apart.
As I sit by the window, waiting for the truck that will bring the dumpster (I hope I got one big enough), it occurred to me that while I am at it, it might be a good idea to rid my mind of mental debris as well. If a cook works better in a clean kitchen, and if a home operates more smoothly with organized rooms, then I’m sure my mind (and spirit) will be better off if I get rid of a few things. Want to join me?
The purging, both physical and mental, won’t be overwhelming. We’ll just be getting rid of things we no longer need, or that can become not only an eyesore but unhealthy if they sit out too long.
First, we’ll start with resentment. It’s a toughie because it likes to linger, but we’ve got to get it out. Let us begin.
Did your parents prevent you from some pined for opportunity when you were a child that you’re just positive would have affected your life positively and differently had they done this or that? Were you overlooked at work although you really deserved a raise or recognition? Did a friend snub you? Did you buy some stock and then lose money because of bad advice or maybe just bad luck? Did rain get in your basement? Was the supermarket clerk rude? Did someone flip you off in traffic? Were you misunderstood? Do you have an acute or lingering illness? Did someone else seem to get a break in sports, or income or wife or life? Do you have some personal struggles that no one seems to understand or no one else seems to have? Did you experience a once in a lifetime catastrophe?
Okay, here it is:
You have to get over it.  

Ouch. I know that sounds harsh. And please believe me, I really do understand how hard it can be to refuse resentment. Some years ago my brother, just twenty-years-old, was killed in a car accident. I have lost five babies to miscarriage (one on Christmas Day). I have other private sorrows. I lived through a house fire as a child and battled cancer as an adult. I am experienced in the once-in-a-lifetime catastrophe department, which are not always “once in a lifetime” as some of you may also know first hand. I tell you this only so you will know I understand how hard this can be. Stewing over past hurts may be tempting, but don’t do it! We not only canlet go of resentment that tempts us, but we must or it will clutter our hearts and minds and will snuff out joy of living.
When we resent someone (or something), we hand over power to that person or situation. We let it control our moods and emotions, how we treat people. In short, resentment grows easily and can rob our lives of peace of mind and happiness.
“A stone is heavy and sand is weighty, but a fool’s provocation is heavier than both.” (Proverbs 27:3)
“The godless in heart cherish anger.” (Job 36: 13)
Three remedies to resentment are forgiveness, a reality check and gratitude.
First, let’s look at forgiveness and address what forgiveness of a person is not—forgiveness is not being stupid, trusting an untrustworthy person, for example. It is not putting yourself in an unhealthy situation over and over again, taking physical or emotional abuse, because you are constantly giving a bad person another chance. If a person willfully hurts you and is impenitent it would be ridiculous to put yourself in a situation to be hurt again. Forgiveness also doesn’t mean overlooking evil. Forgiveness does not mean giving access again when it is imprudent to do so. Sometimes, in fact, a situation necessitates distance from the person you forgive, for self-preservation purposes.
What does forgiveness—something Jesus tells us to do “seventy times seven” look like then? Forgiveness of a person means you look at him with compassion, trying to see him through “God’s eyes” so to speak. The angry and verbally abusive person may have, for example, been raised in a poor home environment. Imagine what it must have been like for him as a child growing up in a home with hate being spewed daily. Perhaps he says what was said to him. Forgiveness does not mean you subject yourself to his vitriol. Forgiveness does not mean you do not hold him accountable for his actions or say meekly that the wrongs are “not a big deal.” But you do, looking at him with “kind eyes,” seek understanding, and let go of the hurt, like a helium balloon into the sky, of the anger he throws your way. You sincerely wish the best for him. You pray for him. You bless him. This could be the grace that allows goodness and healing to reenter his life. God is good like that.
We can also play the “benefit of the doubt” or “make excuses” exercise to help facilitate forgiveness of a person and prevent resentment from taking hold in our hearts. We do this by imagining the best in someone and picturing a scenario that perhaps caused the behavior we are tempted to resent. A simple example is a man flips you off in traffic, either warranted or unwarranted by your driving. You can take it personally and get mad back, or control your thoughts to imagine he may have been just fired from his job, or his wife just left him, or imagine some other instance where he may have been wronged and gave in to a momentary action of anger against you. In short, you give him the benefit of the doubt and “make excuses” for him. It is easier to forgive when you have compassion for someone. And forgiving helps dissipate resentment.

Saturday, June 11, 2016

St. Francis de Sales: The Imagination in Prayer

The following comes from The Catholic Exchange:


It is not possible to pray without employing the imagination and the understanding. Yet it cannot be doubted that we should make use of them only for the sake of moving the will, and then no more. Some say that it is not necessary to use the imagination to represent to ourselves the sacred humanity of the Savior. Not, perhaps, for those who are already far advanced on the mountain of perfection. But for those of us who are still in the valleys — though we wish to be climbing — I think it is expedient to make use of all our faculties, including the imagination.
This imagination, however, ought to be quite simple, serving as a sort of needle with which to thread affections and resolutions into our mind. This is the great road, from which we should not take leave until the light of day is a little brighter and we can see the little paths. It is true that these imaginings should not be tangled up in too many particularities, but should be simple. Let us remain a while longer in the low valleys.

The Peace of God

Strive to remain in that peace and tranquillity that our Lord has given you. “The peace of God,” says St. Paul, “which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:7). Do you not see that he says the peace of God “passes all understanding”? That is to teach you that you should never trouble your­self to have any sentiment other than that of the peace of God. Now, the peace of God is the peace that proves the resolutions we have taken for God and the path that God has ordained for us.
Walk firmly in the way in which the providence of God has placed you, without looking either to the right or to the left. That is the way of perfection for you. This satisfaction of spirit — even if it be without savor — is worth more than a thousand delightful consolations. If God intends you to face some difficulties, you must receive them from his hand — the hand you have taken hold of — and you must not let go of him until he has brought you to the point of your perfection. You will see that God’s providence will accomplish all things ac­cording to your intentions, provided they be entirely in conformity with his. What is needed of you is a courage that is a little more vigorous and resolute.

Thursday, May 19, 2016

St. Francis de Sales on Patience

“Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them—every day begin the task anew.”  


St. Francis de Sales

Sunday, January 24, 2016

St. Francis de Sales on the Beauty of Devotion

The following comes from the Catholic Exchange:


In order to be devout, not only must we want to do the will of God, we must do it joyfully. If I were not a bishop, yet knew what I know, I would not want to be one. But being one, not only am I obliged to do what this annoying office requires, but I must do it joyfully, and I must take delight in it and accept it. To do so is to follow St. Paul’s saying, “in whatever state each was called, there let him remain with God” (1 Cor. 7:24).
We must carry not the crosses of others, but our own. And this means that each of us must “deny himself” (Matt. 16:24), that is to say, to deny his own will. “I want to do this; I would be better there than here”: we are tempted by such thoughts. Our Lord knows what he is about. Let us do his will and remain where he has placed us.
Not only should you be devout and love the devout life, but you should be making that life beautiful to behold.
Now, it will be beautiful to the extent to which it is use­ful and agreeable to others. The sick will love your piety if it causes them to be charitably consoled. Your family will love it if it makes you more solicitous of their good, milder in the face of life’s vicissitudes, and withal more amiable. Your spouse will love it to the extent to which your devotion makes you warmer and more affectionate. If your parents and friends see in you a greater frankness, helpfulness, and readiness to bend to their wills in those things that are not contrary to the will of God, they too will find your life of devotion attractive. And this, as much as possible, should be your aim.

The Imagination in Prayer

It is not possible to pray without employing the imagina­tion and the understanding. Yet it cannot be doubted that we should make use of them only for the sake of moving the will, and then no more. Some say that it is not neces­sary to use the imagination to represent to ourselves the sacred humanity of the Savior. Not, perhaps, for those who are already far advanced on the mountain of perfection. But for those of us who are still in the valleys — though we wish to be climbing — I think it is expedient to make use of all our faculties, including the imagination.
This imagination, however, ought to be quite simple, serving as a sort of needle with which to thread affections and resolutions into our mind. This is the great road, from which we should not take leave until the light of day is a little brighter and we can see the little paths. It is true that these imaginings should not be tangled up in too many particularities, but should be simple. Let us remain a while longer in the low valleys.

The Peace of God

Strive to remain in that peace and tranquillity that our Lord has given you. “The peace of God,” says St. Paul, “which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:7). Do you not see that he says the peace of God “passes all understanding”? That is to teach you that you should never trouble your­self to have any sentiment other than that of the peace of God. Now, the peace of God is the peace that proves the resolutions we have taken for God and the path that God has ordained for us. Walk firmly in the way in which the providence of God has placed you, without looking either to the right or to the left.
That is the way of perfection for you. This satisfaction of spirit — even if it be without savor — is worth more than a thousand delightful conso­lations. If God intends you to face some difficulties, you must receive them from his hand — the hand you have taken hold of — and you must not let go of him until he has brought you to the point of your perfection. You will see that God’s providence will accomplish all things ac­cording to your intentions, provided they be entirely in conformity with his. What is needed of you is a courage that is a little more vigorous and resolute.

The Presence of God

To remain in the presence of God and to place oneself in the presence of God are two different things. To place our­selves in his presence, we must withdraw our souls from all other objects and make ourselves attentive to his presence. After we have placed ourselves in his presence, we can keep ourselves there by the action of our will or intellect: by either looking upon God, or looking upon something else for the love of him, or not looking at anything but instead speaking to him, or neither looking at him nor speaking to him but simply remaining where he has placed us, like a statue in its niche. And when, to this simple act of remaining there is joined some sentiment that we be­long to God and that he is our all, then we ought to give earnest thanks for his goodness.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

St. Francis de Sales’ Guide to Reconciliation

The following comes from the Catholic Exchange:
For St. Francis the sacrament of Reconciliation (aka Confes­sion)affords us the opportunity to experience divine compassion directly. In a “memo” in which he provides pastoral advice about Confession to the priests in his diocese, the saint emphasizes the sacrament’s salutary power. He reckons that “confession and penance render a man infinitely more honorable than sin renders him blamable” and that “the greater our misery, the more is the mercy of God glorified.” With this attitude in mind, we might approach the sacrament more frequently and more profitably.
In the lifelong fight against our faults, the aid of divine grace is indispensable. To avail ourselves of this heavenly help through sacramental means, St. Francis de Sales recommends first that we prepare thoroughly to receive it. In the Spiritual Directory, he suggests several ways by which to ready ourselves for Confession.
First:
In the spirit of deep humility at the feet of our crucified Lord, we will ask for the grace and light of the Holy Spirit to discern our faults well.
Here the image evokes the intention. Coming to grips with the theology of atonement — in which Christ’s death on the Cross responds to the deadly nature of sin for all humanity — we first humble ourselves with the consideration that our own sins contribute to what Christ suffered. This little virtue grows larger through spiritual imagination: were we to stand “at the feet of our crucified Lord,” how could we not be moved to repentance?
Coupled with this excitement of our affections, a cognitional preparation is also needed. To this end we acknowledge that, given our natural aversion to self-recrimination, we need help to know ourselves well and thereby discern what is really going on in the faults we commit. We call on the aid of a spiritual light, to shine on our deeds in such a way that we can see them not simply from our own perspective but from God’s. In this way we will see more clearly that we stand always in need of divine grace.
Then, with hearts and minds opened to reconciliation:
We should recall everything we have found in our daily examinations since our previous confession and consider for a moment if there is anything else.
This act of personal recall presumes the daily practice of the Examen. It also supposes a much more frequent practice of sacramental Confession than is common today. Otherwise, such total recall of everything we have done would be virtually impossible! Even then, the saint recognizes that we must think about this twice — in case there is anything else we might have missed, given the fickleness of our memories.
Still, recalling actual faults is necessary, no matter the length of time since our previous confession. For St. Francis de Sales, this realistic appraisal arises not simply as supplying the traditional “matter” of the sacrament, but as coming from the every­day focus of our spiritual quest. Just as our devotion is to be enacted in concrete deeds, so our failings take shape in actual times and places and affect real people. Even if we are unable to recall everything, the examination of conscience the saint calls for here is not a generalized view or broad perspective. Rather, he invites us to give humble consideration to the actual what and when and where of how we live, particularly when we do not live as well as we ought or as we would like.
After this, let us humbly ask Our Lord for pardon and for the grace to correct ourselves. For this pur­pose we will make a firm resolution, especially concerning the more important things we have noticed.
Acknowledging wrong is hard. But humility is good, and so is God’s mercy. To ask God for pardon and grace is to redirect our intention to our Lord rather than to wallow in our imperfection. This prayerful request turns us away from ourselves and toward God, who alone leads us along the way of the good life.
To advance on that never-ending path:
We will renounce our faults and attempt to stir up true sorrow for them, however slight they may be, because it is always too great an evil to have been displeasing to the sovereign goodness of our Savior who is so merciful to us each day.
This dual response — an effective renunciation and an affective sorrow — results from the foregoing considerations. An honest consideration of our thoughts and words and deeds in light of God’s love for us can yield only a displeasing recognition: we fail in our relationship to God and others. But, as St. Francis de Sales learned at a young age, this admission need not beget depression. Instead, the merciful goodness of God remains sovereign — and is magnanimously offered to us each day.
With this salvation in mind, one preparatory step remains:
Having noticed our current faults, we should add something from the past which is clearly sinful and make an act of contrition for all these together.
Why add some past sin to our list? Are our current faults and failings not sufficient to engender humility and sorrow? What St. Francis de Sales recommends here does not deny the efficacy of sacramental confession to absolve all sins in our life, even those we cannot recall. Rather, it serves simply as a powerful reminder that imperfection accompanies us throughout this life. Still, the saint acknowledges this human reality positively:
“Dear imperfections, they force us to acknowledge our misery, give us practice in humility, selflessness, patience, and watchfulness; yet, notwithstanding, God looks at the preparation of our heart and sees that it is perfect” (Letters of Spiritual Direction, p. 98).
The time of preparation is now complete. While it appears long and detailed, it need not be so in practice. This preparation can take place in a short period spent in quiet prayer, particularly if we have accustomed ourselves to this self-examination on a regular basis. With this humble recognition, sorrowful affection, and renewed resolution in mind:
Then we will go humbly to our confessor honoring God and the sacred priesthood in the person of the priest. We ought to look upon him in confession as an angel whom God sends to reconcile us to his divine goodness.
Here, it seems, is where the celebration of this sacrament has run into difficulty. A common objection today asks why we should confess our sins to a priest instead of entreating God’s forgiveness directly from the Almighty. Particularly if one has had a bad experience in the confessional, this element of the divine-human interaction becomes an obstacle to the reconciliation we seek.


Saturday, October 31, 2015

The Saints and Overcoming Grief

The following comes from the Catholic Exchange:

You will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice;
you will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy….
I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice,
and no one will take your joy from you.
John 16:20, 22
A talented painter once gave an unforgettable performance in front of an admiring audience. With rapid strokes of his brush, he quickly and skillfully painted a beautiful country scene, replete with green meadows, golden fields of grain, farm buildings in the distance, peaceful trees, and a friendly blue sky punctuated with soft, white clouds. As he stepped back from his easel, the audience burst into appreciative applause — only to be silenced by the art­ist, who announced, “The picture is not complete.”
He turned and began rapidly covering the canvas with dark, somber paints. The peaceful country scene was replaced with blotches of morose, unappealing colors, all seemingly thrown on the canvas in random disorder; only a patch of the blue sky and the peaceful countryside remained. “Now,” he asserted, “the pic­ture is finished, and it is perfect.” The stunned audience looked on in disbelief; no one understood what had just happened. Then the painter turned the canvas on its side, and the onlookers let out a collective gasp of amazement, for now there appeared before their eyes a stunningly beautiful, dark waterfall, cascading over moss-covered rocks and creating a rich symphony of color.
The artist intended his amazing and unexpected demonstration to be a commentary or reflection on the reality of sorrow: one beau­tiful scene of life was transformed into another, even as observers wrongly believed something wonderful was forever lost. The mean­ing of this story is simple: God is the Artist who created our lives, and who desires to make them into something permanent and glo­rious; and sorrow and loss are often His instruments in bringing about this change. From our limited perspective, we believe that the original picture is fine as it is, and that any change, especially a painful one, can only be for the worse. The Lord, however, sees and understands the possibilities of life and eternity far more com­pletely than we ever will, and if we allow it, He is able to use all the events and experiences of our lives — even the dark and somber ones — to bring about something of lasting and unequaled beauty.
Grief over any serious loss — especially the death of a loved one — is a very heavy cross to bear, and we’re certainly not ex­pected to see right away how the dark colors of our mourning can be transformed into the joyous hues of eternity. The Lord doesn’t ask that we understand, only that we trust. This, too, can be quite difficult. Even some of the saints found their grief to be nearly overwhelming, but they persevered in their faith and eventually found peace and even joy in their sorrow. This is a hope that Jesus offers to us as well.
St. Francis de Sales came from a large family, and although he was often somewhat melancholy, he experienced great happiness in spending time with those he loved. This was especially true in regard to his youngest sister, Jeanne, who was born three days before his Ordination to the priesthood. Hers was the first Bap­tism St. Francis performed, and he always had a special fondness for her, so it was a terrible blow when she died suddenly and unexpectedly at the age of fifteen, while visiting the home of St. Jane Frances de Chantal and her family. Francis, by then a bishop, expressed his profound grief in these words: “I am nothing if not a man. My heart has been broken in a way that I could not have be­lieved possible.”
St. Jane, who understandably felt very guilty over the girl’s death (even though it was in no way her fault), had herself drunk deeply from the cup of sorrow some years earlier. Her beloved husband, Christophe, was shot by a friend in a hunting accident. He was carried home, but there was nothing the doctors could do for him, and after nine painful days, he died. During this no­vena of suffering, Christophe resigned himself to the will of God and freely forgave his friend. Jane, however, was unable to react in such a holy manner. In her desperation she bargained with God: “Take everything I have, my relatives, my belongings, my chil­dren, but leave me my husband!” This prayer, of course, was not answered, and it was many years before the future saint (under the influence of St. Francis de Sales) was able to forgive her husband’s hunting partner from her heart.
The grief St. Jane experienced made it possible for her years later to write this advice to her own daughter, who was herself grieving over the death of a husband: “My greatest wish is that you live like a true Christian widow, unpretentious in your dress and actions, and especially reserved in your relationships. . . . I know very well, darling, of course, that we can’t live in the world with­out enjoying some of its pleasures, but take my word for it, dearest, you won’t find any really lasting joys except in God, in living vir­tuously, in raising your children well, in looking after their affairs, and in managing your household. If you seek happiness elsewhere, you will experience much anguish, as I well know.”

Read the rest here.

Monday, October 26, 2015

A prayer by St. Francis de Sales


Do not look forward in fear to the changes in life;
rather, look to them with full hope that as they arise,
God, whose very own you are,
will lead you safely through all things;
and when you cannot stand it,
God will carry you in His arms.

Do not fear what may happen tomorrow;
the same understanding Father who cares for
you today will take care of you then and every day.

He will either shield you from suffering
or will give you unfailing strength to bear it.
Be at peace,
and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Needed: New Generation of Saints

The following comes from Sherry Weddell at Aleteia:

I know that many of us have had the wind knocked out of our sails a bit by the fairly grim news about the state of American Catholicism revealed in the Pew Forum’s 2014 US Religious Study which was made public yesterday. Nothing that the Pew researchers found came as any surprise as they are what I’ve been predicting for years. But it is different to see it in black and white. 
 
That there are 47 million former adult Christians in the US and 67% are former Catholics. That only 59% of the many millions who were raised Catholic still retain the identity. That 6.5 Americans leave the Catholic Church for every one who enters.
 
All we have lost are the remnants of our illusions and ecclesial hubris.  This is necessary, though,  because in our generation, cultural Catholicism is dead as a retention strategy. In the postmodern West, God has no grandchildren. He has billions of sons and daughters, but no grandchildren.
 
The great Catholic revival and the generation of saints in early 17th-century France emerged from circumstances vastly grimmer than our own. Eight religious civil wars in 32 years. Twenty percent of the population of Paris died in a religiously fueled siege. Finally, two generations after Trent, the exhausted survivors looked about them and begin to respond apostolically – collaborating across the generations and categories like bishop, priest, lay man or lay woman.
 
It was God’s Providence that the greatest figure of the great “generation of saints” was St. Francis de Sales, whose gentleness, and trust in God was proverbial. It was due to his leadership and influence that while the generation that lived through the wars was scarred for life, the next generation turned their energies to heroic systematic charity, evangelization, missionary work, Catholic education and creating the seminary system to form a new kind of clergy. They literally re-invented Catholic life, practice, and spirituality in an evangelical mode.
 
Not in the image of the pre-Reformation Church, which was two generations gone, and not primarily in reaction to the terrible losses of the past but by really engaging the needs of their time – the early 17th century – out of love and in the power of the Holy Spirit. “Let us see what love will do” was St. Francis’ motto. Heroic love birthed a vast spectrum of creativity, renewal, and transformation whose influence lasted 150 years in France and gave birth to most of the institutions that 1950’s Western Catholics regarded as immemorial and immutable.
 
Thanks be to God, a new and absolutely crucial American  – and increasingly global – conversation on the necessity of calling the already baptized to intentional discipleship has already begun.  It is a wonderful thing to be clear about our situation. It is a wonderful thing to be forced to go beyond ecclesial clichés, exhausted insider debates, and instant remedies. Now is the time to respond in intense communal prayer. Now is the time to respond: "Here I am, Lord. Send me."
 
 The great 19th-century American evangelist, Dwight. L. Moody was fond of saying that "The world has not yet seen what God will do through one man or woman wholly committed to him." And he would always add, "By the grace of God, I will be that man." What God has done in and through his Church before, he can easily do again. He is simply looking for men and women who will say "yes" with their whole beings.
 
What are you asking God for in light of this knowledge of our true situation? What are you believing God for? Do you have a sense of how God is calling you to respond to the needs of our time in your own area of apostolic responsibility?

Saturday, January 24, 2015

How reading St. Francis de Sales has made me a better priest

The following comes from the New Theological Movement site:


“Introduction to the Devout Life”, the spiritual classic in which St. Francis de Sales sets forth the life of devotion not so much for the consecrated religious or cleric but for the laity, is surely the most popular work of the Doctor of the Catholic Press. This is one of those very few books worth reading two hundred times and more. It serves as a trustworthy guide to sanctity.
Since my ordination to the priesthood (three and a half years ago), this little “Introduction” for lay people has had an immeasurable impact on my own approach to moral and spiritual theology – reading St. Francis de Sales has made me a better priest.


Personal holiness and virtue
“Introduction to the Devout Life” is divided into five parts:
1. Advice and practices to begin the life of devotion
2. On prayer
3. On the practice of the virtues
4. Counsels regarding certain ordinary temptations
5. Practices to renew and confirm the soul in devotion
St. Francis de Sales is most helpful to those who strive to practice regular and methodical mental prayer. If a true interior life is to be nurtured in the soul, some method of prayer is necessary (especially in those souls which have not reached the perfection of the unitive way). That method advocated in the “Introduction” is simple, easily employed, and filled with much wealth.
The Bishop of Geneva recommends the following:
Each period of prayer should contain a preparation, a consideration, affections and resolutions, and a conclusion. This method is outlined in detail in Book II, chapters two through seven.
What has been particularly helpful to me is the emphasis which St. Francis places upon affectations and resolutions. He teaches that, as the point of prayer is to increase love in the soul (by which love, the soul is truly united to God), affective movements of the will are to be encouraged above intellectual reflections. Although the understanding must necessarily call the mysteries of the faith to mind and propose them to the will, nevertheless the highest movements of prayer are certainly those acts of love which proceed from the will.
Additionally, St. Francis de Sales teaches that it is important to always finish one’s prayer with some resolution to grow in virtue or avoid vice – and this is the practical Catholicism which is so greatly needed in our own day, and especially in diocesan priestly ministry.
His treatises on the virtues and on temptations have been most helpful to me as well – especially the chapters on true friendship (part III, chapter 19 [here]) and on the pleasures which come with temptations (part IV, chapter 6 [here]).
Priestly ministry: Preaching
The classical work of St. Francis de Sales has been especially helpful in my priestly ministry as preacher, confessor, and spiritual director. I will limit myself to only a very few of the many points in which “Introduction” has made me a better priest.
St. Francis’ use of metaphor has instructed me a great deal in terms of the methodology and style of preaching. From “Introduction”, I have found a real love for the use of metaphor and analogy in preaching.
While St. Francis’ own favorite metaphors involved bees, I will highlight two others which I myself have used in sermons.
De Sales makes a comparison between the people of Israel who, thinking it was too difficult, turned back and refused to enter the Promised Land (cf. Numbers 14) and those worldly persons who think the devout life to be difficult and wholly devoid of all delight. This metaphor is found in part I, chapter two [here], and I myself have used it for Ash Wednesday sermons on multiple occasions.
In another place, St. Francis speaks of a popular myth according to which any word which is carved upon an almond-seed will then be impressed upon all the fruit of that tree. He states that he does not look primarily to exterior but rather to interior mortifications to truly purify the soul – and thus he wishes that his motto “Live, Jesus!” would be impressed upon the almond-seed of our heart. (cf. part III, chapter 23 [here])
I have not only used these and many other metaphors in preaching and lectures, but my own style and use of analogy in general has been formed by that of the Doctor of the Catholic Press.
Priestly ministry: Confession
It is obvious enough that St. Francis’ discussion of virtue and vice as well as his counsel regarding various temptations would be most helpful to the confessor. In particular, I have often referred to his treatment of rash judgment (part III, chapter 28 [here]) and anger (part III, chapters 8 [here] and 9 [here]).
Further, his outline for spiritual practices to renew and foster devotion (the whole of part V) is extremely helpful in giving counsel to penitents who desire to move forward in the interior life.
In truth, I freely recommend “Introduction to the Devout Life” to many penitents as I believe that this book can easily be read and understood by most every soul who is formed in the basic catechetics of the faith. This book can serve as a quasi “spiritual director” for those who regularly frequent confession – as they will be able to ask their confessor for advice regarding the application of certain passages to their own lives.
Priestly ministry: Spiritual direction
St. Francis de Sales began to write the “Introduction” as a spiritual resource for those who had been entrusted to him in spiritual direction. Throughout the work, he addresses himself to a certain “Philothea” which is name meaning “Lover of God” and is meant to include any and every Christian soul.
While the original “Philothea” for whom “Introduction” was begun was a certain Madame de Charmoisy, St. Francis’ most well known spiritual daughter is St. Jane Frances de Chantal. Among the many others, we might add that he also served as the spiritual father of his own very dear little sister, Jeanne.
In his own preface to the work [here], the Bishop of Geneva insists that every pastor (specifically, every Bishop) is obligated to take time and energy for the direction of individual souls. I have presented this in an earlier post [here] – without repeating the argument, I will simply mention that St. Francis has led me to be far more open to the direction of individual souls than I would have previously been.
On another level, I almost always will use “Introduction” within the context of direction as a major point of spiritual reading– usually extending two or three months of study (and I am very happy to take even more time). Discussion of “Introduction” is then the basis for at least some portion of each direction meeting. This is one of those books which ought nearly to be memorized, and I know of some who know the spiritual classic in the greatest detail.
Conclusion
“Introduction to the Devout Life” is a truly great book. Learning to love this work will confirm the soul in love of devotion.
If you have not yet read the classic of St. Francis de Sales with great care and attention – moreover, if you have not yet learnt to truly love this work – I would encourage you to set aside everything and anything else you are currently reading (with the exception of Sacred Scripture) and pick up this book. Read it slowly, for a book so rich deserves careful and extended consideration – no rush-job will suffice.
If you already love the “Introduction”, blessed are you indeed! Thank God for having brought you to this classic. Read it often. The Lord has given you a great grace. Thank him fervently for this blessing, and also remember often to be grateful for whomever it was that first taught you to love St. Francis de Sales.

St. Francis de Sales, Pray for us!

Friday, January 24, 2014

St. Francis de Sales: Be Open to God’s Inspirations

The following comes from Catholic Exchange:
The sun’s rays give light while giving warmth and warmth while giving light. Inspiration is a heavenly ray that brings into our hearts a warm light that makes us see the good, and fires us on to its pursuit. All that lives upon earth is dulled by the winter’s cold, but with the return of vital heat in the springtime, all things get back their movement. Ground animals run more swiftly; birds fly higher and sing more gaily; plants more pleasingly put forth their leaves and flowers. Without inspiration our souls would live idle, sluggish, useless lives, but with the coming of the divine rays of inspiration, we feel a light mingled with a life-giving warmth that enlightens our understanding and awakens and animates our will by giving it the strength to will and do the good that pertains to eternal salvation.
When God had formed the human body out of “the slime of the earth,” as Moses says, “He breathed into it the breath of life, and man was made into a living soul”— that is, into a soul which gave life, movement, and activity to the body. This same eternal God breathes and infuses into our souls the inspi­rations of supernatural life to the end, as says the great apostle, that they may become “a life-giving spirit” — that is, a spirit that makes us live, move, feel, and work the works of grace. Hence He who has given us being also gives us operation.
Man’s breath warms things it enters into: witness the Shunammite woman’s child, upon whose mouth the prophet Elisha placed his own mouth and breathed upon him, and his flesh grew warm. Experience makes this warming power evident. But with regard to God’s breath, not only does it warm, but it gives perfect light, since His divine Spirit is an infinite light. His vital breath is called inspiration because by it, supreme goodness breathes upon us and inspires in us the desires and intentions of His heart.
The means of inspiration that God uses are infinite. St. Anthony, St. Francis, St. Anselm, and a thousand others of­ten received inspirations from the sight of creatures.  Preaching is the ordinary means of inspiration. However, men whom the Word does not help are taught by tribulation, according to the words of the prophet, “And affliction shall give understanding of what you hear.” That is, those who hear God’s threats against the wicked and do not correct themselves shall learn the truth by the result and effects and shall become wise by feeling affliction.
St. Mary of Egypt was inspired by the sight of an image of our Lady; St. Anthony, by hearing the Gospel read at Mass; St. Augustine, by hearing an account of St. Anthony’s life; the Duke of Gandia, by seeing the dead em­press; St. Pachomius, by seeing an example of charity; the Blessed Ignatius of Loyola, by reading the lives of the saints.
When I was a youth in Paris, two students, one of whom was a heretic, heard the bell for matins sound in the Carthusian monastery after they had passed a night of debauchery in the Faubourg St. Jacques. When the heretic asked why the bell was ringing, his companion told him of the devotion with which monks celebrated the sacred office in that holy monastery. “O God,” he said, “how different is the conduct of those religious from our own! They perform the office of angels, while we perform that of beasts!”
He desired the next day to see by experience what he had learned from his companion’s account, and found those fathers in their stalls, standing like marble statues in a row of niches, motionless, devoid of all movement but that of chanting the Psalms, which they did with truly angelic attention and devo­tion as is the custom of their holy order. The result was that that poor youth was completely carried away with admiration and was filled with the greatest consolation at seeing God so well adored among Catholics. He resolved, and afterward put it into effect, to place himself in the bosom of the Church, the true and unique spouse of Him who had sent His inspiration even to the infamous litter of abomination where He had lain.
Oh, how happy are they who keep their hearts open to holy inspirations! They never lack the graces necessary to them in order to live well and devoutly according to their conditions, and to fulfill in a holy way the duties of their professions. Just as God, by the ministry of nature, gives to each animal in­stincts needed for its preservation and the exercise of its natu­ral properties, so too, if we do not resist God’s grace, He gives to each of us the inspirations needed to live, work, and pre­serve ourselves in the spiritual life.
“Ah, Lord,” said the faithful Eliezer, “Behold, I stand here at this spring of water, and the daughters of the inhabitants of this city will come out to draw water. Therefore, the maid to whom I shall say, ‘Let down the pitcher that I may drink,’ and she shall answer, ‘Drink, and I will water your camels also,’ she it is whom you have chosen for your servant Isaac.”  Eliezer does not express any desire for water except for himself, but the fair Rebecca was obedient to the inspiration that God and her own kindness gave her and also offered wa­ter to his camels. For this deed she was made the spouse of holy Isaac, fair daughter of the great Abraham, and ancestral mother of the Savior.
Souls not content merely with doing what the Divine Spouse requires of them by His commandments and counsels, but who are prompt to follow sacred inspirations, are truly those whom the eternal Father has prepared to be spouses of His beloved Son. With regard to the good Eliezer, since he could not other­wise distinguish among the daughters of Haran — that is, the town of Nahor — which one among them was destined for his master’s son, God enabled him to recognize her by means of inspiration. When we do not know what to do and men’s help is lacking to us in our perplexities, then God inspires us. If we are humbly obedient, He does not permit us to fall into error.
Editor’s note: This article has been adapted from St. Francis de Sales’ Finding God’s Will for Youavailable from Sophia Institute Press. 

St. Francis De Sales: Patron Saint of Journalists and Writers

Thursday, April 14, 2011

EWTN Live: St. Francis De Sales