St. Catherine Of Sienna, Seraphic Virgin, Doctor Of The Church

[FFI Griswold]

Ave Maria!

 

Happy feast of St. Catherine of Sienna! I thought she would be worthy of mention to those discerning as she was a model of virginal purity, contemplation, as well as active ministry. Let us look to one who, by her heroic virtues, has been raised to the altars by Holy Mother the Church for all to imitate, and by her teachings, made a Doctor of the Church.

http://www.ccel.org/b/butler_a/lives/lives-cather.html

Catherine, the daughter of a humble tradesman, was raised up to be the guide and guardian of the Church in one of the darkest periods of its history, the fourteenth century. As a child, prayer was her delight. She would say the "Hail Mary" on each step as she mounted the stairs, and was granted in reward a vision of Christ in glory. When but seven years old, she made a vow of virginity, and afterwards endured bitter persecution for refusing to marry. Our Lord gave her His Heart in exchange for her own, communicated her with His own hands, and stamped on her body the print of His wounds. At the age of fifteen she entered the Third Order of St. Dominic, but continued to reside in her father's shop, where she united a life of active charity with the prayer of a contemplative Saint. From this obscure home the seraphic virgin was summoned to defend the Church's cause. Armed with Papal authority, and accompanied by three confessors, she travelled through Italy, reducing rebellious cities to the obedience of the Holy See, and winning hardened souls to God. In the face well-nigh of the whole world she sought out Gregory XI. at Avignon, brought him back to Rome, and by her letters to the kings and queens of Europe made good the Papal cause. She was the counsellor of Urban VI., and sternly rebuked the disloyal cardinals who had part in electing an antipope. Long had the holy virgin foretold the terrible schism which began ere she died. Day and night she wept and prayed for unity and peace. But the devil excited the Roman people against the Pope, so that some sought the life of Christ's Vicar. With intense earnestness did St. Catherine beg Our Lord to prevent this enormous crime. In spirit she saw the whole city full of demons tempting the people to resist and even slay the Pope. The seditious temper was subdued by Catherine's prayers; but the devils vented their malice by scourging the Saint herself, who gladly endured all for God and His Church. She died at Rome, in 1380, at the age of thirty-three.

Reflection. -- The seraphic St. Catherine willingly sacrificed the delights of contemplation to labor for the Church and the Apostolic See. How deeply do the troubles of the Church and the consequent loss of souls afflict us? How often do we pray for the Church and the Pope?

 

 

http://www.marypages.com/SienaEng.htm

While at Pisa in 1375 she received the Stigmata, five mystical wounds deeply engraved in her hands, feet and heart, but she prayed that they might be concealed from human eyes.

 

 

http://www.ewtn.com/library/mary/catsiena.htm

When Catherine was twelve, her mother, with marriage in mind, began to urge her to pay more attention to her appearance. To please her mother and sister, she dressed in the bright gowns and jewels that were fashionable for young girls. Soon she repented of this vanity, and declared with finality that she would never marry. When her parents persisted in their talk about finding her a husband, she cut off the golden-brown hair that was her chief beauty As punishment, she was now made to do menial work in the household, and the family, knowing she craved solitude, never allowed her to be alone. Catherine bore all this with sweetness and patience Long afterwards, in <The Dialogue>, she wrote that God had shown her how to build in her soul a private cell where no tribulation could enter.

...

Catherine's father at last came to the realization that further pressure was useless, and his daughter was permitted to do as she pleased. In the small, dimly-lighted room now set apart for her use, a cell nine feet by three, she gave herself up to prayers and fasting; she scourged herself three times daily with an iron chain, and slept on a board. At first she wore a hair shirt, subsequently replacing it by an iron-spiked girdle. Soon she obtained what she ardently desired, permission to assume the black habit of a Dominican tertiary, which was customarily granted only to matrons or widows. She now increased her asceticism, eating and sleeping very little. For three years she spoke only to her confessor and never went out except to the neighboring church of St. Dominic, where the pillar against which she used to lean is still pointed out to visitors.

 

 

 

from the Dialogue of St. Catherine of Siena,

I am that Fire which purifies the soul, and the closer the soul is to Me, the purer she becomes, and the further she is from Me, the more does her purity leave her; which is the reason why men of the world fall into such iniquities, for they are separated from Me, while the soul, who, without any medium, unites herself directly to Me, participates in My Purity.

 

http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=9


St. Catherine of Sienna, Seraphic Virgin, pray for us! Ave Maria!

JMJ,

Friar John Paul

 

[OnlySunshine]

I love St. Catherine of Siena!  I was Confirmed on her feast day in 1998 and I am now discerning Consecrated Virginity.  Though St. Catherine was not a Consecrated Virgin, she professed perpetual virginity with the help of her Confessor, so I look to her for moral and spiritual support along with St. Rose of Lima -- who emulated St. Catherine.  One of these days, I plan to read her dialogues.  :)

[BarbTherese]

Remarkable saint and gift to The Church!

[ToJesusMyHeart]

Funny story about St. Catherine from the book I'm currently reading about her life:

 

"About this time, something mysterious happened. Catherine was returning home one day with her brother, Stefano. They had been visiting their married sister, Bonaventura. At a certain turn in the valley, St. Dominic (the local church) swings suddenly into view, and the children were looking out for this sign that they were nearing home. Suddenly, Catherine stood stock still, her eyes distended. The sky over the church was full of shapes and colors:a panoply that was not of any sunset. Stephen, who distinguished nothing, dragged her on impatiently. She took a dazed step or two, like one stricken blind; then raised her eyes again, but the vision had gone. She burst into tears. Long afterwards, when pressed to explain what she saw, she stammered something about Christ having looked directly at her with a loving smile, blessing her in the manner of a priest. In whatever way the veil had been lifted, the effect on the child was profound and permanent. Though she was then only six years old, the old legend says, almost grimly, 'after that, she was no longer a child.' Her elfin glee sobered into gravity. Her mother, Monna Lapa, was the first to notice something wrong. She thought the child was moping, and took her in hand, as it were. 

 

Since the day of the vision, Catherine was tormented with a longing to be left alone to think and pray even for the shortest time. But this was never allowed. She was harried from morning to night with small tasks and innumerable little errands, in which her mother's shrill admonitions followed her everywhere. Although perfectly obedient, a secret anguish swelled in her soul. That burning, unplacated desire made the material life in which her mother held her ruthlessly something choking and intolerable. Meanwhile, Monna Lapa considered her often with a puzzled frown and concluded with a shrug: "She'll be all right when we get her married." Indeed that word "marriage," the only word that ever troubled Catherine's earliest years (being always said when her beautiful golden hair was under discussion), was now repeated over and over again in her presence. It began cause her the most acute apprehension. 

 

All the girls of her acquaintance began to learn every detail of housewifery, to wear pretty dresses and ornaments, and to wave their hair. Catherine did not want to do any of these things, and she thought it terrible beyond words when the walls of her father's house closed in upon her relentlessly. Monna Lapa's energy became more than ever exhausting; her harangues more trying. Indeed, the mother's discomfort began to explode frequently in harsh outbursts. She complained about Catherine constatnly to the neighbours, and to her married daughters, including Bonaventura, who was Catherine's only confidante among her sisters. Instead of blame, Bonaventura tried coaxing. She persuaded her young sister into a promise of submission. Catherine shrinkingly acquiesced in the process of adornment, and for the moment there was a semblance of peace. 

 

Then Bonaventura died unexpectedly, when Catherine was in her sixteenth year. It was her first experience of death and her grief was poignant. While this sorrow was still fresh, a chance remark at home made her heart leap with panic. She heard the very name of her prospective suitor; all his advantages were being discussed in detail. Catherine broke in on the family council, shaking with panic. This time it was complete and absolute defiance: "I will not be married, I tell you all. No, No, NO!" 

 

Monna Lapa went to see Fr. Della Fonte to ask him to bring her daughter to reason. He found her desperately in earnest. From her passionate, disjointed defence, two things emerged: she would not get married, and they should leave her hair alone. The friar gravely agreed that it was unfair to force her into marriage. He groped for a solution: "how can you stay on here and be an old maid? People will laugh at you?" Catherine was not dismayed at the prospect. "Well, who'll keep you when your parents are gone?" ..."God will take care of me," Catherine replied. Della Fonte shrugged, and began to think of his other appointments.

 

Oh, then the hair! The priest considered the shining locks quizzically. "Cut it off," he said, jokingly, as he rose to go. "Then perhaps they'll know you mean business." In his heart he wondered how far her resolution could be tested. He had hardly left the house before she followed his advice. Reckless of what might follow, she cut off all her hair clumsily, in jagged masses. Then, appalled at the ruin of her appearance, she covered her head with a veil, and waited for the storm to burst. 

 

The scene that followed was painful. Monna Lapa shrieked when she saw Catherine (her one title to prettiness now gone). She cursed. Her brothers jeered--needless to say. They all felt Fr. Della Fonte had failed them completely, and that they must manage the girl themselves. Divining her one little luxury, the refuge of her own room, they decided to take it from her. Henceforth she must share with Stefano. Then Monna Lapa sent away the servant, and gave all the most menial work to Catherine. She was made to serve the family at table, and no-one spoke to her, save to give orders. In short, they deliberately persecuted her, hoping that the very misery of her life would break her will. And they continued to assure her: "Your hair will grow again and you shall marry, even if it breaks your heart."

 

I love her.