Forget the Past and Push On to What is Ahead

During my doctoral studies in Rome, when the going got rough, I would head over to the church of Sant’Agostino near Piazza Navona to ask Saint Monica’s intercession. Monica is buried at the church named for her son, and she is for me a source of inspiration for what it means to grow in holiness.

Monica_of_Hippo_by_GozzoliWhat I learned from Monica is why the church honors many of its sons and daughters with the title of “saint.” Their lives really have a timeless dimension that teaches, inspires and encourages Christians in every age. Monica, whose feast we celebrate today, is a testimony to the strength that comes in keeping God at the center of one’s life and making God one’s reference point in all things—in other words—never losing sight that holiness is the journey of life.

Whenever I am asked to lecture on the theme of the universal call to holiness, I begin by asking people to name people who they think are models of holiness. Always, always, Mother Theresa is the first or second to be named (no surprise there)! As names are added, we move from saints, to loved ones, to friends, but never does anyone ever name themselves! And yet, by virtue of baptism, all of us are called to holiness. We are much better at naming what disqualifies ourselves than recognizing that holy is what we are in the process of becoming. Monica teaches us that we need only to fix our gaze on God and holiness becomes possible.

From what little we know of Monica’s life, it would not be on any list of optimal environments for holiness to flourish. She discovered the enticement of alcohol as a teen, she married a man who was a drinker and known to be violent and unfaithful. She had a son who was too smart for his own good and a difficult mother-in-law who tried her patience. One could understand if the mark of Monica’s life was that of despair and yet her story is quite different.

Monica was raised in a Christian family. Her strong sense of self was grounded in her relationship with God. She was devout and committed to serving others. It is said that her husband, not a Catholic when they were first married, would criticize her for her piety and generosity, but she continued to be faithful, to be true to herself. She was faithful in the face of infidelity; she was kind in the face of ridicule. She loved her children with the love we learn only from God. In her love for her son, Augustine, we see that she saw something in Augustine that he did not see in himself. Trusting God’s providence, she prayed and prayed! She stayed close to Augustine, reminding him of what he could be rather than what he was. Monica entrusted him to God, knowing that she could only do so much. Tomorrow, the church celebrates how the story of Augustine ends!

Like, Augustine, Monica’s husband also saw the authenticity of Monica’s faith and her love for him and their children. He began to see the power of a faith that never wavered. He too converted. Monica’s patience and love and realization that she had God on her side became an irresistible invitation for her family.

Augustine writes in his Confessions, that shortly before his mother died, they were enjoying a conversation in the presence of The Truth–that is God– and speaking about the promise of eternal life. Augustine writes that in the conversation, “They were forgetting the past and pushing on to what is ahead” (Phil. 3:13). It is a good reminder to us that God is not as interested in our past as he is in our future. In Monica, we learn that we are most true to ourselves when our lives are oriented toward God and trusting of his providence.

Susan Timoney is the Assistant Secretary for Pastoral Ministry and Social Concerns for the Archdiocese of Washington and teaches spirituality for Saint Joseph’s College Online.

Don’t Just Stand There

Pope St. Pius XOne hundred years ago today, August 20, 1914, Pope St. Pius X died. The so-called “War to end all Wars” had ignited less than a month previously, and just two months after the Sarajevo assassination of Austrian archduke Ferdinand. With a hundred years hindsight, we see anew just how influential that conflagration really was. Ethnic and religious tensions since 1991 in Bosnia, Kosovo, Ukraine, and even Syria and Afghanistan can find their roots directly, more or less, in the “Great War.” Pius died watching the world he and the rest of world had known begin to crumble.

A gloomy consideration, to be sure. It is worth noting that Pius X, when his pontificate began, realized that such an end was quite possible. His first encyclical, E Supremi, set out the framework for his papal motto: “Instaurare Omnia in Christo” (to renew all things in Christ). After stating his unworthiness for the papacy, especially having to follow Pope Leo XIII who had reigned for twenty-six years, Pius declared his pontificate would serve God, not earthly partisanship (#4). The odds, Pius admitted, did not look promising. Even in 1903 he saw the pursuit of peace rendered fruitless due to the secular dismissal of religion (#7). Nevertheless, committed to bringing humanity back to God, Pius stated flatly: “Now the way to reach Christ is not hard to find: it is the Church. “(#9) Renewing all things in Christ thus meant the Church needed to get its own act together. Pius then encourages bishops to rekindle pastoral vigor among the clergy while nurturing seminary education. It started, he claimed, with holiness (#11). Secure that first, and then theological and moral rectitude would fall into line. Furthermore, religious instruction of the laity and those outside the Church depended on this proper spiritual orientation.

Pius’ focus might appear strikingly different from our modern view. After all, think of the reminders—and justifiably so!—to consider the plight of the poor. A glimpse at the Catechism #773 indicates the Church has not strayed far. The Church’s Marian charism—an inward holiness and purity—necessarily precedes the Church’s Petrine charism of external authority and leadership. (And thus, here at his pontificate’s beginning, lie the foundations for Pius’ better-known efforts to purify the Church, which these days tend to be viewed as intrusive thought-control.) Furthermore, St. Pius X himself recognized that, as one of my French-Canadian in-laws said, honey attracts more flies than vinegar. “… it is vain to hope to attract souls to God by a bitter zeal. On the contrary, harm is done more often than good by taunting men harshly with their faults, and reproving their vices with asperity.” (E Supremi #13—and here Pius cited I Kings 19, the Old Testament reading for August 10) With that in mind, Pius X wanted Catholic action—yes, a group so-named but more importantly Catholics actually doing something to bring about the renewal his pontificate sought.

For truly it is of little avail to discuss questions with nice subtlety, or to discourse eloquently of rights and duties, when all this is unconnected with practice. The times we live in demand action – but action which consists entirely in observing with fidelity and zeal the divine laws and the precepts of the Church, in the frank and open profession of religion, in the exercise of every kind of charitable works, without regard to self-interest or worldly advantage. (#14)

Quite frankly, this might be why theologians and others preoccupied with an “academic apostolate” find St. Pius X discomforting. Don’t just stand there—do something, for God’s sake! (literally!)

One hundred years later, though, we actually like to hear such injunctions. We continue to enjoy “the Francis effect.” Pope Francis’ recent trip to South Korea met, not surprisingly, with glowing accolades. Vatican insider John L. Allen, Jr. now calls Francis “a truly global papacy” and rightfully so. But at least some of the foundations for the world’s current Francis enthusiasm lay a century ago with a saintly pope that we too often remember quite differently.

Guest blogger Jeffrey Marlett blogs at Spiritual Diabetes.