The Other Saint Francis

It would be ironic if on this feast of the patron saint of writers that I did not write a few words at the very least on Francis de Sales, who expressed, at the height of the divisions and schisms caused by the Protestant ‘reformation’, the right way to do ecumenism:  With a gentle and charitable soul, firmly grounded in the truth and holiness, Francis’ sermons were mesmerizing, and, as bishop of Geneva, he won many, many souls back from the erroneous paths of dour and doom-ish Calvinism. His joyful demeanour, and his obvious love of the faith, drew many; as he once wrote, you attract far more flies with honey than vinegar.

After a full and fruitful life, as confessor and advisor to kings and potentates, to the rich and poor, a founder of religious orders, and a father and patron to an untold number, Bishop de Sales went to his eternal reward in 1622, three days after Christmas, at the rather tender age of 55 (keeping in mind that the future bishop Karol Wojtyla would not even be chosen as Pope until his 58th year). He was declared one of only 36 doctors of the Church, by Pius IX in 1877.

Bishop Francis was rare in those days for advocating holiness in laypeople, as well as priests and religious. Devotion is nothing else than the striving for perfection of the will, in union with the will of God, in doing one’s duty as well as one can, on whatever path one is called. Excellence, virtue and magnanimity should be the hallmark of every Catholic.

As the great bishop wrote in his Introduction to the Devout Life:

The bee collects honey from flowers in such a way as to do the least damage or destruction to them, and he leaves them whole, undamaged and fresh, just as he found them. True devotion does still better. Not only does it not injure any sort of calling or occupation, it even embellishes and enhances it.

Moreover, just as every sort of gem, cast in honey, becomes brighter and more sparkling, each according to its colour, so each person becomes more acceptable and fitting in his own vocation when he sets his vocation in the context of devotion. Through devotion your family cares become more peaceful, mutual love between husband and wife becomes more sincere, the service we owe to the prince becomes more faithful, and our work, no matter what it is, becomes more pleasant and agreeable.

It is therefore an error and even a heresy to wish to exclude the exercise of devotion from military divisions, from the artisans’ shops, from the courts of princes, from family households. I acknowledge, my dear Philothea, that the type of devotion which is purely contemplative, monastic and religious can certainly not be exercised in these sorts of stations and occupations, but besides this threefold type of devotion, there are many others fit for perfecting those who live in a secular state.

Therefore, in whatever situations we happen to be, we can and we must aspire to the life of perfection.

Saint Francis de Sales, ora pro nobis!