Day Four, JOYFUL MYSTERIES, Monday May 4, St. Monica, Widow

SAINT MONICA

Feast of St. Monica, May 4
From The Liturgical Year, Dom Gueranger

On this fourth morning of beautiful May, there rises a mother, fervent in her love of Jesus. She, too, gives to holy Church a treasure — the child of her tears — a Doctor, a Bishop, and one of the grandest Saints of the New Law. This woman, this mother, is Monica, twice mother of Augustine. This masterpiece of God’s grace was produced on the desert soil of Africa. Her virtues would have been unknown till the day of Judgment, had not the pen of the great Bishop of Hippo, prompted by the holy affection of his filial heart, revealed to us the merits of this woman, whose life was humility and love, and who now, immortalized in men’s esteem, is venerated as the model and patroness of Christian Mothers.

One of the great charms of the book of Confessions, is Augustine’s fervent praise of Monica’s virtues and devotedness. With what affectionate gratitude he speaks, throughout his whole history, of the untiring constancy of this mother, who, seeing the errors of her son, “wept over him, more than “other mothers weep over the dead body of their “children.” Our Lord, who, from time to time, consoles, with a ray of hope, the souls he tries,—had shown to Monica, in a vision, 'the future meeting of the son and mother; she had even heard a holy Bishop assuring her, that the child of so many tears could never be lost — still the sad realities of the present weighed heavily on her heart ; and both her maternal love and her Faith caused her to grieve over this son who kept away from her, yea, who kept away from her, because he was unfaithful to his God.

The anguish of this devoted heart was an expiation, which would, at a future period, he applied to the guilty one; fervent and persevering prayer, joined with suffering, prepared Augustine’s second birth ;— and, as he himself says, “ she went through more “when she gave me my spiritual, than when she “gave me my corporal, birth.” At last, after long years of anxiety, the mother found, at Milan, this son of hers, who had so cruelly deceived her, when he fled from her roof to go and risk his fortune in Rome. She found him still doubting the truth of the Christian Religion, but tired of the errors that had misled him. Augustine was not aware of it, but he had really made an advance towards the true Faith.

“She found me,” says he, “in extreme danger, for I despaired of ever finding the truth. But when I told her, that I was no longer a Manichean, and yet not a Catholic Christian,—the announcement did not take her by surprise. She leaped for joy, at being made sure that; one half of my misery was gone. As to the other, she wept over me, as dead, indeed, but to rise again; she turned to thee, O my God, and wept, and in spirit, brought me, and laid the bier before thee, that thou mightest say to the widow’s son: Young man! I say to thee, arise! Then would he come to life again, and begin to speak, and thou couldst give him back to his mother! Seeing, then, that although I had not yet found the truth, I was delivered from error, she felt sure that thou wouldst give the other half of the whole thou hadst promised. She told me in a tone of gentlest calm, but with her heart full of hope, that she was confident, in Christ, that before leaving this world, she would see me a faithful Catholic.”

At Milan, Monica formed acquaintance with the great Saint Ambrose, who was the instrument chosen by God for the conversion of her son. “She,” says Augustine, “had a very great affection for Ambrose, because of what he had done for my soul; and he “equally loved her, because of her extraordinary piety, which led her to the performance of good works, and to fervent assiduity in frequenting the Church. Hence, when he saw me, he would frequently break out in her praise, and congratulate me on having such a mother. The hour of grace came at last. The light of Faith dawned upon Augustine, and he began to think of enrolling himself a member of the Christian Church; but the pleasures of the world, in which he had so long indulged, held him back from receiving the holy sacrament of Baptism. Monica’s prayers and tears won for him the grace to break this last tie. He yielded, and became a Christian. But God would have this work of his divine mercy a perfect one. Augustine, once converted, was not satisfied with professing the true Faith; he aspired to the sublime virtue of continence. A soul, favored as his then was, could find no further pleasure in anything that this world had to offer him. Monica, who was anxious to guard her son against the dangers of a relapse into sin, had been preparing an honorable marriage for him ; but Augustine came to her, one day, accompanied by his friend Alypius, and told her that he was resolved to aim at what was most perfect. Let us listen to the Saint’s account of this interview with his mother; it was immediately after he had been admonished by the voice from heaven: “We (Augustine and Alypius,) go at once to my mother’s house. We tell her what has taken place; she is full of joy. We tell her all the particulars; she is overpowered with feelings of delight and exultation. She blessed thee, O my God, who canst “do beyond what we ask or understand. She saw that thou hadst done more for me, than she had asked of thee, with her many piteous and tearful sighs. Thou hadst changed her mourning into joy, even beyond her wishes, yea, into a joy more dear and chaste than she could ever have had in seeing me a father of children." 

A few days after this, and in the Church of Milan, a sublime spectacle was witnessed by Angels and men: Ambrose baptizing Augustine in Monica’s presence. The saintly mother had fulfilled her mission: her son was regenerated to truth and virtue, and she had given to the Church the greatest of her Doctors. The evening of her long and tried life was approaching and she was soon to find eternal rest in the God for whose love she had toiled and suffered so much. The son and mother were at Ostia, waiting for the vessel that was to take them back to Africa. “I and she were alone.” says Augustine, “and were standing near a window of our lodging, which commanded a view of the garden. We were having a most charming conversation. Forgetting the past, and stretching forward to the things beyond, we were talking about the future life of the Saints, which eye hath “not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it ascended into man’s heart. * * * And whilst thus talking about it and longing for it, our hearts seemed to bound forward and reach it. We sighed, and left the first-fruits of our spirit there, and returned to the sound of our own voice. * * * Then, my mother said to me: ‘My son, as far as I am concerned, there is nothing now that can give me pleasure in this life. I know not what I can do, or why I should be here, now that I have nothing to hope for in this world. There was one thing for which I desired to live somewhat longer, and it was to see thee a Catholic Christian before my death. My God has granted me this and more, for I see that thou hast despised earthly pleasures, and become his servant. What do I here?’ ” She had not long to wait for the divine invitation. She breathed forth her pure soul a few days after this interview, leaving an indelible impression upon the heart of her son, to the Church, a name most dear and honored, and to Christian mothers a perfect example of the purest and holiest maternal affection.