CHAPTER 28 - FRANCE
When Francis de Sales was a student in Paris he almost died. Scholars were busy discussing the theological concept of predestination in those days. Was one born with an automatic ticket to go to heaven or hell at the end of one's life? Was there anything we could do about changing that? Were all, indeed, destined for a life with God? Francis de Sales was not afraid of hell so much as he was sick at heart from the fear that he might not be able to spend eternity with the God whom he had grown to love so much.
The young student was anorexic and feverish, and had been so for several weeks. Much more of this and he would die. He wandered into a church and knelt before a statue of Our Lady of Good Deliverance, also known as the Black Madonna. Some say the latter name came from the years of incense and candle flames that darkened her on the outside. Others focus on the fact that such statues were originally crafted from dark wood to draw one more deeply into the image and the deep realities she expressed. In front of the statue, pasted on a board, was a prayer to the Blessed Virgin written by Jane de Chantal’s ancestor, St. Bernard of Clairvaux. The prayer was called the Memorare. He read the prayer and surrendered everything to God through Mary’s intercession. He experienced a blinding Zen-like insight which told him that he didn't know about the future and that he had enough to do in living well right now. His anxiety and confusion lifted immediately. Francis de Sales devoted himself to living in the present moment from that time on and taught his spiritual family to do the same.
"Mother de Chantal, are you all right?"
The out-sister in the corner began to rise. "Oh Henri, I'm so sorry. I guess I was thinking about the past. So much has happened in my life. Some things have been very difficult, but I have much to be grateful for. I'm thinking about your request. How would this be? Spend the night in our guesthouse and, if you wish, join us before dawn for Matins, the vigil service from our Divine Office which is said in the darkness before dawn. After that the nuns meditate for about an hour and then pray Lauds, Morning Prayer. We will have some breakfast sent here to the parlor for you and then I will join you and we can talk about some spiritual reading material which may meet your needs."
Although the material was not yet in his hands, Henri knew what it would be.
The nuns chanted in the simple three-toned psalmody that their holy founder, Bishop Francis de Sales, had created for them. Henri sat in the secular chapel, semi-separated from the choir stalls of the nuns by a grill, and joined them in spirit. He had been to several Visitation convents and everyone celebrated the Divine Office in this same way. It was beautiful, but he could never reach the high-soaring notes that the nuns seemed so comfortable with. As a hermit he would be celebrating the Divine Office alone and that suited him just fine. He meditated quietly for an hour after Matins, something he very much enjoyed doing. The chanting started again. Dawn was breaking and his heart was longing to set off for China and his new life as a Christian hermit.
A wooden contraption about three feet high and built into the wall of the parlor began to rumble. It was a half barrel, sliced from top to bottom. It turned around and there were shelves in it. His breakfast was on a tray on one of the shelves. He enjoyed the strong hot coffee and the dark homemade bread. There was even a poached egg for him to eat! He smiled to himself and hoped that he would be mortified enough to accept whatever God provided, whether he liked it or not, as a hermit. He tried to do this in all things and found it sage advice from the founders of the Salesian spiritual family.
Henri stood up as the foundress entered the visiting parlor. He smiled inwardly and externally as he noticed the leather case she held reverently in her arms. When removed from their protective container, the parchments inside were seen to be two stacks, each neatly tied together with purple ribbons. Each stack was about three inches high. One stack was the letters of the mother of foundress and the other the letters of her co-founder.
"After we spoke last evening I took the liberty of sending a messenger out to review your background, so to speak. My intuition said that everything you spoke about was the truth but, as an administrator, a job I dislike, I thought it prudent to get whatever I could confirmed. The messenger is a man who helps maintain our property here and he spent the night riding to your parish church, to another Visitation monastery, and to the little cell of your spiritual director. One person gave him information that led him to the next, and so forth. By the time Lauds was over this morning he had reported to me the results of his labors. You are indeed the genuine article that I thought you were, and I hope that you will not be offended that I investigated you in this fashion. I'm used to doing it with potential novices to our monasteries, and since you are moving into a Salesian hermit's vocation I thought it only fitting that you go through a similar process."
"Thank you for doing that Rev. Mother. It somehow confirms my vocation. As I mentioned, it is definitely a Salesian hermit that I want to be."
The foundress smiled broadly. "I think I may be able to help you with that in several ways. She patted the old satchel lovingly. The letters written on these parchments have been shared with no one but Francis de Sales and me. I am getting older and something needs to be done with them. They are sacred to me but filled with ordinary human foibles and mistakes, both of grammar and behavior. A hermit’s vocation is very sacred and so I entrust them to you, a soon to be newly-consecrated hermit. They will return to the wider Salesian family when the time is right. In the meanwhile you can ponder them and pass them on as you see fit. I will trust your prudence and judgment in that matter."
Mother de Chantal slowly walked to the half-barrel contraption at the far end of the grill which she referred to as “the turn," and put the parchments on the middle shelf. She gave the barrel a little turn. Henri reverently picked up the satchel of parchments and put them in a broadcloth bag he brought with him for their transportation and protection.
"The second way I may be able to help you is by receiving your hermit's vows. Why wait until you get to China to find someone to witness your vows? When someone is as committed as you are, the vows have already been made in spirit in your heart. I often encourage novices to make their vows in private before their profession ceremony, so that they will be able to say them with devotion and without nervousness and self-consciousness which can happen in the presence of other people at the ceremony itself.
"I invite you to spend a few more days in our guesthouse and after that, at Vespers one evening, I can receive your hermit's vows and place around your neck our Salesian profession cross."
"I've seen it on your nuns, Mother. It's a simple silver cross with some engravings and no corpus on it. Can you tell me more about it?"
"Myself and Bishop Francis de Sales wore this cross as a sign of our commitment to our way of life. When a member of the Salesian family makes her, and now his, vows, they are given this cross much the same way someone is given a wedding ring. There is no corpus on the cross because the one who is given the cross is supposed to be united with Christ on it. A mountain is engraved at the bottom of the cross, out of which springs an olive leaf, my favorite combination of symbols. This represents the peace that comes from Mount Calvary, which I know, can sound like an oxymoron. It represents the peace that one can experience in the midst of life's struggles when one is focused on doing God's will. Inside the cross are a few relics and the beginning verses of the Gospel of St. John written on a tiny piece of paper."
"You are the foundress, my spiritual mother, but I have a little prophecy to share. The day will come when the Salesian family will incorporate people from every walk of life--lay members who are both men and women, religious communities of vowed women and men in service to others, and monastic women and men."
Mother de Chantal simply smiled.