Middle
Ages were drawing to a close and the brave new world of the Renaissance was
springing to life when Catherine Benincasa was born. The place was Siena, and
the day was the feast of the Annunciation, 1347. Catherine and a twin sister
who did not long survive were the youngest of twenty-five children. The father,
Giacomo or Jacopo Benincasa, a prosperous wool dyer, lived with his wife Lapa
and their family, sometimes comprising married couples and grandchildren, in a
spacious house which the Sienese have preserved to the present day. As a child
Catherine was so merry that the family gave her the pet name of Euphrosyne,
which is Greek for Joy and also the name of an early Christian saint. At the
age of six she had the remarkable experience which may be said to have
determined her vocation. With her brother she was on the way home from a visit
to a married sister, when suddenly she stopped still in the road, gazing up
into the sky. She did not hear the repeated calls of the boy, who had walked on
ahead. Only after he had gone back and seized her by the hand did she wake as
from a dream. She burst into tears. Her vision of Christ seated in glory with
the Apostles Peter, Paul, and John had faded. A year later the little girl made
a secret vow to give her whole life to God. She loved prayer and solitude, and
when she mingled with other children it was to teach them to do what gave her
so much happiness.
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.
At
times now she was enraptured by celestial visions, but often too she was
subjected to severe trials. Loathsome forms and enticing figures would present
themselves to her imagination, and the most degrading temptations assailed her.
There would be long intervals during which she felt abandoned by God. "O
Lord, where wert Thou when my heart was so sorely vexed with foul and hateful
temptations?" she asked, when after such a time of agonizing He had once
more manifested Himself. She heard a voice saying, "Daughter, I was in thy
heart, fortifying thee by grace," and the voice then said that God would
now be with her more openly, for the period of probation was nearing an end.
There
gathered around this strong personality a band of earnest associates. Prominent
among them were her two Dominican confessors, Thomas della Fonte and
Bartholomew Dominici, the Augustinian Father Tantucci, Matthew Cenni, rector of
the Misericordia Hospital, the artist Vanni, to whom we are indebted for a
famous portrait of Catherine, the poet Neri di Landoccio dei Pagliaresi, her
own sister-in-law Lisa, a noble young widow, Alessia Saracini, and William
Flete, the English hermit. Father Santi, an aged hermit, abandoned his solitude
to be near her, because, he said, he found greater peace of mind and progress
in virtue by following her than he ever found in his cell. A warm affection
bound her to these whom she called her spiritual family, children given her by God
that she might help them along the way to perfection. She read their thoughts
and frequently knew their temptations when they were away from her. Many of her
early letters were written to one or another of them. At this time public
opinion about Catherine was divided; many Sienese revered her as a saint, while
others called her a fanatic or denounced her as a hypocrite. Perhaps as a
result of charges made against her, she was summoned to Florence to appear
before the general chapter of the Dominicans. Whatever the charges were, they
were completely disproved, and shortly afterwards the new lector for the order
in Siena, Raymund de Capua, was appointed her confessor. In this happy
association, Father Raymund was in many things of the spirit her disciple. Later
he became the saint's biographer.
After
Catherine's return to Siena there was a terrible outbreak of the plague, during
which she and her circle worked incessantly to relieve the sufferers.
"Never did she appear more admirable than at this time," wrote a
priest who had known her from girlhood. "She was always with the
plague-stricken; she prepared them for death and buried them with her own
hands. I myself witnessed the joy with which she nursed them and the wonderful
efficacy of her words, which brought about many conversions." Among those
who owed their recovery directly to her were Raymund of Capua himself, Matthew
Cenni, Father Santi, and Father Bartholomew, all of whom contracted the disease
through tending others. Her pity for dying men was not confined to those who
were sick. She made it a practice to visit condemned persons in prison, hoping
to persuade them to make their peace with God. On one occasion she walked to
the scaffold with a young Perugian knight, sentenced to death for using seditious
language against the government of Siena. His last words were: "Jesus and
Catherine! "
Her
deeds of mercy, coupled with a growing reputation as a worker of miracles, now
caused the Sienese to turn to Catherine in all kinds of difficulties. Three
Dominican priests were especially deputed to hear the confessions of those whom
she had prevailed on to amend their lives. In settling disputes and healing old
feuds she was so successful that she was constantly called upon to arbitrate at
a time when all through Italy every man's hand seemed to be against his
neighbor. It was partly, perhaps, with a view to turning the energies of
Christendom away from civil wars that Catherine threw herself into Pope
Gregory's campaign for another crusade to wrest the Holy Sepulchre from the
Turks. This brought her into correspondence with Gregory himself.
In
February, 1375, she accepted an invitation to visit Pisa, where she was
welcomed with enthusiasm. She had been there only a few days when she had
another of the spiritual experiences which seem to have presaged each new step
in her career. She had made her Communion in the little church of St.
Christina, and had been gazing at the crucifix, when suddenly there descended
from it five blood-red rays which pierced her hands, feet and heart, causing
such acute pain that she swooned. The wounds remained as stigmata, visible to
herself alone during her life, but clearly to be seen after her death.
She
was still in Pisa when she received word that the people of Florence and
Perugia had entered into a league against the Holy See and the French legates.
The disturbance had begun in Florence, where the Guelphs and the Ghibellines[1]
united to raise a large army under the banner of freedom from the Pope's
control, and Bologna, Viterbo, and Ancona, together with other strongholds in
the papal domain, rallied to the insurgents. Through Catherine's untiring
efforts, the cities of Lucca, Pisa, and Siena held back. From Avignon,
meanwhile, after an unsuccessful appeal to the Florentines, the Pope, Gregory
XI, sent Cardinal Robert of Geneva with an army to put down the uprising, and
laid Florence under an interdict. The effects of the ban on the life and
prosperity of the city were so serious that its rulers sent to Siena, to ask
Catherine to mediate with the Pope. Always ready to act as a peacemaker, she
promptly set out for Florence. The city's magistrates met her as she drew near
the gates, and placed the negotiations entirely in her hands, saying that their
ambassadors would follow her to Avignon and confirm whatever she did there.
Catherine arrived in Avignon on June 18, 1376, and was graciously received by
the Pope. "I desire nothing but peace," he said; "I place the
affair entirely in your hands, only I recommend to you the honor of the Church."
As it happened, the Florentines proved untrustworthy and continued their
intrigues to draw the rest of Italy away from allegiance to the Holy See. When
their ambassadors arrived, they disclaimed all connection with Catherine,
making it clear by their demands that they did not desire a reconciliation.
Although
she had failed in this matter, her efforts in another direction were
successful. Many of the troubles which then afflicted Europe were, to some
degree at least, due to the seventy-four-year residence of the popes at
Avignon, where the Curia[2] was now largely French. Gregory had been ready to
go back to Rome with his court, but the opposition of the French cardinals had
deterred him. Since in her letters Catherine had urged his return so strongly, it
was natural that they should discuss the subject now that they were face to
face. "Fulfill what you have promised," she said, reminding him of a
vow he had once taken and had never disclosed to any human being. Greatly
impressed by what he regarded as a supernatural sign, Gregory resolved to act
upon it at once.
On
September 13, 1376, he set out from Avignon to travel by water to Rome, while
Catherine and her friends left the city on the same day to return overland to
Siena. On reaching Genoa she was detained by the illness of two of her
secretaries, Neri di Landoccio and Stephen Maconi. The latter was a young
Sienese nobleman, recently converted, who had become an ardent follower. When
Catherine got back to Siena, she kept on writing the Pope, entreating him to
labor for peace. At his request she went again to Florence, still rent by
factions, and stayed there for some time, frequently in danger of her life. She
did finally establish peace between the city governors and the papacy, but this
was in the reign of Gregory's successor.
After
Catherine returned to Siena, Raymund of Capua tells us, "she occupied
herself actively in the composition of a book which she dictated under the
inspiration of the Holy Ghost." This was the mystical work, in four
treatises, called <The Dialogue of St. Catherine>.[3] Her health was now
so impaired by austerities that she was never free from pain; yet her thin face
was usually smiling. She was grieved by any sort of scandal in the Church,
especially that of the Great Schism[4] which followed the death of Gregory XI.
Urban VI was elected as his successor by the cardinals of Rome and Clement VII
by the rebellious cardinals of Avignon. Western Christendom was divided;
Clement was recognized by France, Spain, Scotland, and Naples; Urban by most of
North Italy, England, Flanders, and Hungary. Catherine wore herself out trying
to heal this terrible breach in Christian unity and to obtain for Urban the
obedience due to the legitimate head. Letter after letter was dispatched to the
princes and leaders of Europe. To Urban himself she wrote to warn him to
control his harsh and arrogant temper. This was the second pope she had
counseled, chided, even commanded. Far from resenting reproof, Urban summoned
her to Rome that he might profit by her advice. Reluctantly she left Siena to
live in the Holy City. She had achieved a remarkable position for a woman of
her time. On various occasions at Siena, Avignon, and Genoa, learned
theologians had questioned her and had been humbled by the wisdom of her
replies.
Although
Catherine was only thirty-three, her life was now nearing its close. On April
21, 1380, a paralytic stroke made her helpless from the waist downwards, and
eight days later she passed away in the arms of her cherished friend, Alessia Saracini.
The Dominicans at Rome still treasure the body of Catherine in the Minerva
Church, but Siena has her head enshrined in St. Dominic's Church. Pope Pius II
canonized Catherine in 1461. The saint's talents as a writer caused her to be
compared with her countrymen, Dante and Petrarch. Among her literary remains
are the <Dialogue> and some four hundred letters, many of them of great
literary beauty, and showing warmth, insight, and aspiration. One of the
important women of Europe, Catherine's gifts of heart and mind were used in the
furtherance of the Christian ideal.
Letter
to Gregory XI
In
the name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary: Most holy and most
reverend my father in Christ Jesus: I Catherine your poor unworthy daughter,
servant and slave of the servants of Christ, write to you in His precious
blood; with desire to see you a good shepherd. For I reflect, sweet my father,
that the wolf is carrying away your sheep, and there is no one found to succor them.
So I hasten to you, our father and our shepherd, begging you on behalf of
Christ crucified to learn from Him, who with such fire of love gave Himself to
the shameful death of the most holy cross, how to rescue that lost sheep, the
human race, from the hands of the demons; because through man's rebellion
against God they were holding him for their own possession.
Then
comes the Infinite Goodness of God, and sees the evil state and the loss and
the ruin of these sheep, and sees that they cannot be won back to Him by wrath
or war. So, notwithstanding they have wronged Him-for man deserves an infinite
penalty for his disobedient rebellion against God-the Highest and Eternal
Wisdom will not do this, but finds an attractive way, the gentlest and most
loving possible to find. For it sees that the heart of man is in no way so
drawn as by love, because he was created by love. This seems to be the reason
why he loves so much: he was created by nothing but love, both his soul and his
body. For by love God created him in His Image and Likeness, and by love his
father and mother gave him substance, conceiving and bearing a son.
God,
therefore, seeing that man is so ready to love, throws the book of love
straight at him, giving him the Word, His Only-Begotten Son, who takes our
humanity to make a great peace. But justice wills that vengeance should be
wrought for the wrong that has been done to God: so comes Divine Mercy and
unspeakable Charity, and to satisfy justice and mercy condemns His Son to
death, having clothed him in our humanity, that is, in the clay of Adam who
sinned. So by His death the wrath of the Father is pacified, having wrought
justice on the person of His son: so He has satisfied justice and has satisfied
mercy, releasing the human race from the hands of demons. This sweet Word
jousted with His arms upon the wood of the most holy Cross, death fighting a
tournament with life and life with death: so that by His death He destroyed our
death, and to give us life He sacrificed the life of His body. So then with
love He has drawn us to Him, and has overcome our malice with His benignity, in
so much that every heart should be drawn to Him: since greater love one cannot
show-and this He himself said-than to give one's life for one's friend. And if
He commended the love which gives one's life for one's friend, what then shall
we say of that most burning and perfect love which gave its life for its foe?
For we through sin had become foes of God. Oh, sweet and loving Word, who with
love hast found Thy flock once more, and with love hast given Thy life for
them, and hast brought them back to Thy fold, restoring to them the Grace which
they had lost!
Holiest
sweet father of mine, I see no other way for us and no other aid to winning
back your sheep, which have left the fold of Holy Church in rebellion, not
obedient nor submissive to you, their father. I pray you therefore, in the name
of Christ crucified, and I will that you do me this grace, to overcome their
malice with your benignity. Yours we are, father! I know and realize that they
all feel that they have done wrong; but although they have no excuse for their
crimes, nevertheless it seemed to them that they could not do differently,
because of the many sufferings and injustices and iniquitous things they have
endured from bad shepherds and governors. For they have breathed the stench of
the lives of many rulers whom you know yourself to be incarnate demons, and
fallen into terrible fears, so that they did like Pilate, who not to lose his
authority killed Christ; so did they, for not to lose their state, they
maltreated you. I ask you then, father, to show them mercy. Do not regard the
ignorance and pride of your sons, but with the food of love and your benignity
inflict such mild discipline and benign reproof as shall satisfy your Holiness
and restore peace to us miserable children who have done wrong.
I
tell you, sweet Christ on earth, on behalf of Christ in Heaven, that if you do
this, without strife or tempest, they will all come grieving for the wrong they
have done, and lay their heads on your bosom. Then you will rejoice, and we
shall rejoice, because by love you have restored the sheep to the fold of Holy
Church. And then, sweet my father, you will fulfill your holy desire and the
will of God by starting the holy Crusade, which I summon you in his name to do
swiftly and without negligence. They will turn to it with great eagerness; they
are ready to give their lives for Christ. Ah me, God, sweet Love! Raise
swiftly, father, the banner of the most holy Cross and you will see the wolves
become lambs. Peace, peace, peace, that war may not delay that happy time!
But
if you will wreak vengeance and justice, inflict them on me, poor wretch, and
assign me any pain and torment that may please you, even death. I believe that
through the foulness of my iniquities many evils have occurred, and many
misfortunes and discords. On me then, your poor daughter, take any vengeance
that you will. Ah me, father, I die of grief and cannot die! Come, come, and
resist no more the will of God that calls you; the hungry sheep await your
coming to hold and possess the place of your predecessor and Champion, Apostle
Peter. For you, as the Vicar of Christ, should abide in your own place. Come,
then, come, and delay no more; and comfort you, and fear not anything that
might happen, since God will be with you. I ask humbly your benediction for me
and all my sons; and I beg you to pardon my presumption. I say no more. Remain
in the holy and sweet grace of God-Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.
(Letters
of Saint Catherine of Siena, translated by Vida D. Scudder. 1906.)
Saint
Catherine of Siena, Virgin. Celebration of Feast Day is April 30. Taken from Lives
of Saints, Published by John J. Crawley & Co., Inc.
Provided Courtesy of:
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