The Curé of Ars and Saint Philomena Part 1
The Curé of Ars and Saint Philomena Part 1
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On her return to France from Mugnano, Pauline Jaricot went to visit her dear friend, the Venerable Curé of Ars, to whom she recounted the whole history of her miraculous cure. Mdlle. Jaricot bestowed upon the Curé a portion of the relics she had obtained from Mugnano, uttering these prophetic words; "Have full confidence in this great Saint, she will obtain for you all that you ask."
The holy priest whilst listening to her with rapt attention felt a burning love for the Little Saint kindle in his heart. Intense was his joy when Pauline offered him a part of the precious relics which she had brought with her. A chapel was immediately erected in his church in honour of the Virgin Martyr where the relic was duly placed. This chapel soon became the scene of innumerable cures, conversions and miracles. M. Vianney dedicated himself by special vow to Saint Philomena, and a marvelous intimacy became evident between the good priest and her whom he now considered his Celestial Patroness. He did everything for her and she did everything for him. She appeared to him, conversed with him and granted everything in answer to his prayers. He called her by the tenderest names and she delighted in bestowing on him the most wonderful favors. His gift of miracles was extraordinary, yet, far from producing in him the slightest notion of vanity, it was the greatest cross he had to bear. He was wont to throw all the blame on Saint Philomena. "It’s Saint Philomena. I wish she would work her miracles away from here" he would say with a laugh. But all the same the Little Saint seemed to take keen pleasure in teasing her holy friend by performing her wonders by his very hands. On one occasion a poor woman in the midst of a crowded church besought him to bless her sick child. The venerable Curé could not resist the supplications of the poor mother. He blessed the child and it was instantly restored to health. "Oh! Oh!" said the holy man, full of confusion, making off in haste to the sacristy: "I wish Saint Philomena would have cured the child at home."
In season and out of season he spoke of his "dear Little Saint." In a short time all France rang with her name. Every diocese has altars and chapels and churches dedicated to the Thaumaturga. In Langres alone there were no less than twelve churches consecrated to her honour. Her three feasts the 11th, August, her principal festival, the 25th. May the Finding of her Relics and the Sunday within the octave of the Ascension, the feast of her Patronage, began to be celebrated with great pomp and attracted immense crowds.
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A new bond of love.
Of the many marvels to be seen at Ars during the life of its saintly pastor, none was greater than the daily life of the holy man himself. His frail body was too extenuated with such rigorous fasts and penitential exercises that his emaciated appearance struck the visitors to Ars with awe. Notwithstanding his extreme weakness, the incessant labor which he took on himself each day were enough to exhaust the most herculean strength, were he endowed with it. Day followed day and crowds thronged to Ars not only from all parts of France, but from England, Ireland, Germany and the other countries of Europe. The sick, the sorrowful, holy souls as well as the most abandoned sinners flocked round him besieging his confessional. They spent long hours, even days, awaiting their turn to poor out their sorrows into his loving heart, or to ask for the solution of some subtle difficulty, or to tell him of the sins and wickedness of a life-time. One glance from him went straight to the heart of the most hardened reprobate. His angelic smile brought comfort to the most distressed. A word - seemingly inspired - resolved the most intricate doubt. But how he lived! That was the miracle of Ars.
Every evening during the month of May, it was his wont to give a short Instructional. On the third day, just as he had begun to speak, he was taken so ill, that he was obliged to quit the pulpit and go to bed. He was found to be suffering from a serious attack of pneumonia. During the next few days he was much worse; the fever never left him, and syncope after syncope followed each other in quick succession. Three doctors met in consultation, and pronounced that there was scarcely any hope.
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The whole parish was in tears. "You cannot form any idea," wrote Mme. La Comtesse des Garets, in a letter dated May the 10th, 1843, "of the touching and pious spectacle, that has been before our eyes ever since the beginning of the saintly man’s illness.
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One sees nothing but tears hears nothing but prayers and sobs. The church, which seems desolate without him, is nevertheless continually filled with weeping crowds, imploring Heaven with heart and should, by prayers, and acts of naïve faith, and touching piety. …Candles are burning on every altar, rosaries are in every hand. During the first few days guardians were obliged to be placed at the presbytery door, to keep back the eager crowd that besieged it, entreating to see the venerable Curé once more, and receive his last benediction. They could only calm his fervor, by giving notice each time the saint, rising in his bed of suffering, would give a general benediction."
M. Vianney’s Confessor was of opinion that the last Sacraments ought to be administered. As the doctors had recommended hat he should be spared all strong emotion, the priests who were present at Ars, agreed that the bell should not be rung. The Curé overheard their conversation, and turning to the person at his bedside said: "Go, and have the bells rung; ought not the parishioners to pray for their Curé?"
At the first deep tones of the bell the houses were deserted as if by magic, and the whole of the parish accompanied the Viaticum to the threshold of the presbytery. The priests, Count Prosper des Garets, entered the sick-chamber, whilst the crowd knelt in the court-yard of the house, and in the village square, weeping and praying. When M. Vianney was asked if he believed all the truths of religion, he answered: "I have never doubted one"; if he pardoned his enemies: "Thanks be to God, I have never wished evil to any one."
As this ceremony is described in the letter to the Countess de Garets just quoted, bearing the date of the 10th of May, it no doubt took place upon that or the preceding day.
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The next morning the doctor approaching the sick man felt his pulse, and then, believing him to be past hearing, said aloud," He has only a few minutes to live."
The dying man distinctly heard the flat that condemned him; and, being seized with awe and terror of the Judgment, earnestly prayed to God that He would grant him a reprieve, and delay the awful moment yet a little while.
Four months later he himself described the anguish of this tragic moment to his family, when he was once more at Dardilly, in their midst. "Be sure, cousin, "he said to Mme. Fayolle of Ecully, "When you assist the dying by fortifying and preparing them to appear before God, that you never cease your exhortations until they have actually departed. For this is what happened a little while ago to me, whom all gave up for dead, and abandoned, without so much as word of comfort, because they were so certain that my last hour had come. I was in mortal dread of the Judgment of God when the doctor, after feeling my pulse, said, "He has only a few minutes more to live." ON hearing those words I thought, "In a few minutes thou wilt appear before God: and - with empty hands." Then, at the remembrance of the many persons, who had come from so far off to make their confessions, and who were imploring the Holy Virgin and Saint Philomena for me with all their hearts, I said within myself: "Lord! If thou canst still use me do not yet take me from this world." And even as I spoke, I felt my vigor renewed; and all my strength returned."
At the exact moment that M. Vianney was so miraculous restored to life; a Mass was being said on his behalf at the altar of Saint Philomena. Pertinent, the parish school master - who never left the sick man night of day - was at this bed-side, and distinctly saw reflected on his face the emotions - to him inexplicable - of the drama which was being enacted in his soul. In his deposition, in the process of Beatification, he relates, "Before the priest had begun to offer the Holy Sacrifice, M. Vianney’s attitude appeared to me to be that of a person in mortal terror. I noticed something extraordinary in him, great anxiety, and unusual perturbation. I observed all his movements with redoubled attention, thinking that fatal hour had come, and that he was about to breathe his last. But as soon as the priest was at the Altar he suddenly became tranquil. It was as if he saw something pleasant and reassuring; and the Mass was scarcely over when he exclaimed, ‘My friend,! a great change has just been wrought in me….I am cured.’"
From this moment in fact the disease left him and, little by little, his strength came back, so that on Friday, the 19th, he was able to be carried to church as a convalescent. There he fell on his knees before the Tabernacle, no doubt consecrating to the Service of God the years of life that remained to him.
Then he went and prayed for a long while, in the Chapel of his favorite little saint, to whom intercession, as he declared, his recovery was due.