"With great haste and tears, he fell down before Zephyrinus" ~ August 26, feast of Pope Saint Zephyrinus

Natalius falls at the feet of Pope St. Zephyrinus, seeking forgiveness.

August 26 is the feast of Pope Saint Zephyrinus on the traditional Catholic calendar. Following is the entry for Zephyrinus that appears in the Liber Pontificalis: 

Zephyrinus, by nationality a Roman, son of Habundius, occupied the see 18 years, 3 months and 10 days [or 8 years, 7 months and 10 days]. 

He was bishop in the time of Antoninus and Severus, from the consulship of Saturninus and Gallicanus (AD 198) to the year when Presens and Stricatus were consuls (AD 217). 

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He decreed that in the presence of all the clergy and the faithful laity every cleric, deacon or priest, should be ordained. He also made a regulation for the church, that there should be vessels of glass before the priests in the church and servitors to hold them while the bishop was celebrating mass and priests standing about him. Thus mass should be celebrated and the clergy should assist in all the ceremony, except in that which belongs only to the bishop. From the consecration of the bishop's hand the priest should receive the consecrated wafer to distribute to the people. He held 4 ordinations in the month of December, 14 priests, 7 deacons, 13 bishops in divers places. He also was buried in his own cemetery near the cemetery of Callistus on the Via Appia, August 25. [Liber Pontificalis, page 19]

Another anecdote regarding Pope Zephyrinus may be found in the Eccelsiastical History of Eusebius. This story regards a man named Natalius who was persuaded by heretics to accept a bishopric for the sum of 150 denarii per month. Eusebius explains:

When he had thus connected himself with them, he was warned oftentimes by the Lord through visions. For the compassionate God and our Lord Jesus Christ was not willing that a witness of his own sufferings, being cast out of the Church, should perish. But as he paid little regard to the visions, because he was ensnared by the first position among them and by that shameful covetousness which destroys a great many, he was scourged by holy angels, and punished severely through the entire night. Thereupon having risen in the morning, he put on sackcloth and covered himself with ashes, and with great haste and tears he fell down before Zephyrinus, the bishop, rolling at the feet not only of the clergy, but also of the laity; and he moved with his tears the compassionate Church of the merciful Christ. And though he used much supplication, and showed the welts of the stripes which he had received, yet scarcely was he taken back into communion. [Eusebius: Ecclesiastical History, Book V, Chapter 28]

It is also recorded by Eusebius that while Zephyrinus was Pope, Origin—the great theologian of Alexandria—visited Rome, "desiring, as he himself somewhere says, to see the most ancient Church of Rome."

There is some confusion as to whether Zephyrinus died a martyr under Caracalla or not. This obscurity has led to a general suppression of his cult in modern times and his feast was moved to December 20 after 1969, as this date is considered to be more reliable as the anniversary of his death.

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"That is our building. I helped put it up." ~ Booker T. Washington on merit and the dignity of hard work

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Booker T. Washington (1856-1915) is one of the most noteworthy men America has ever produced. Born into slavery in 1856, Washington would make the most of his newfound freedom after the Civil War, procuring an education through hard work and rigorous study that would have even the most dedicated modern students fainting with exhaustion. He would go on to devote his life to lifting up others of his race in the South, founding Tuskegee Institute in Alabama in 1881. 

A firm believer in the principles of hard work, personal merit, entrepreneurship and Christian charity toward all, Washington would eventually achieve national standing as a visionary educator and mediator of antipathy among the races in the South. He would famously be invited to dine with President Theodore Roosevelt in 1901, an event which caused a scandal in some quarters. In response, Roosevelt would write: "That idiot or vicious Bourbon element in the South is crazy because I have had Booker T. Washington to dine. I shall have him to dine as often as I please."

Though Roosevelt would not issue a repeat invitation, he did pay a visit to Washington at Tuskegee while touring Alabama four years later. During this visit, Roosevelt would address the faculty and students of Tuskegee and offered high praise for Washington and his work:

“I had read a good deal of your work, and I believe in it with all my heart. I would not call myself a good American if I did not. I was prepared to see what would impress me and please me, but I had no idea that I would be so deeply impressed, so deeply pleased as I have been. I did not realize the extent of your work. I did not realize how much you were doing…Mr. Washington, while I have always stood for this institution, now that I have seen it and realize as I had never realized by the descriptions of it, all it means, I will stand for it more than ever.”  [Taken from A Compilation of the Messages and Speeches of Theodore Roosevelt, Volume 1]

As part of our study of Reconstruction-era America, my children and I have been reading Washington's autobiographical work entitled Up from Slavery. The quote above is taken from this book, which is at its heart an inspiring, thoughtful and very positive work that has a universally applicable message beyond race relations. Following is the context of the quote, taken from Chapter X: A Harder Task than Making Bricks without Straw. In this extended excerpt, Washington explains his rationale for engaging the students at Tuskegee in more than just book learning—he had them construct the buildings on campus themselves using bricks they manufactured on-site:

From the very beginning, at Tuskegee, I was determined to have the students do not only the agricultural and domestic work, but to have them erect their own buildings. My plan was to have them, while performing this service, taught the latest and best methods of labour, so that the school would not only get the benefit of their efforts, but the students themselves would be taught to see not only utility in labour, but beauty and dignity; would be taught, in fact, how to lift labour up from mere drudgery and toil, and would learn to love work for its own sake. My plan was not to teach them to work in the old way, but to show them how to make the forces of nature—air, water, steam, electricity, horse-power—assist them in their labour.

At first many advised against the experiment of having the buildings erected by the labour of the students, but I was determined to stick to it. I told those who doubted the wisdom of the plan that I knew that our first buildings would not be so comfortable or so complete in their finish as buildings erected by the experienced hands of outside workmen, but that in the teaching of civilization, self-help, and self-reliance, the erection of buildings by the students themselves would more than compensate for any lack of comfort or fine finish.

I further told those who doubted the wisdom of this plan, that the majority of our students came to us in poverty, from the cabins of the cotton, sugar, and rice plantations of the South, and that while I knew it would please the students very much to place them at once in finely constructed buildings, I felt that it would be following out a more natural process of development to teach them how to construct their own buildings. Mistakes I knew would be made, but these mistakes would teach us valuable lessons for the future.

During the now nineteen years' existence of the Tuskegee school, the plan of having the buildings erected by student labour has been adhered to. In this time forty buildings, counting small and large, have been built, and all except four are almost wholly the product of student labour. As an additional result, hundreds of men are now scattered throughout the South who received their knowledge of mechanics while being taught how to erect these buildings. Skill and knowledge are now handed down from one set of students to another in this way, until at the present time a building of any description or size can be constructed wholly by our instructors and students, from the drawing of the plans to the putting in of the electric fixtures, without going off the grounds for a single workman.

Not a few times, when a new student has been led into the temptation of marring the looks of some building by leadpencil marks or by the cuts of a jack-knife, I have heard an old student remind him: "Don't do that. That is our building. I helped put it up."

In the early days of the school I think my most trying experience was in the matter of brickmaking. As soon as we got the farm work reasonably well started, we directed our next efforts toward the industry of making bricks. We needed these for use in connection with the erection of our own buildings; but there was also another reason for establishing this industry. There was no brickyard in the town, and in addition to our own needs there was a demand for bricks in the general market.

I had always sympathized with the "Children of Israel," in their task of "making bricks without straw," but ours was the task of making bricks with no money and no experience.

In the first place, the work was hard and dirty, and it was difficult to get the students to help. When it came to brickmaking, their distaste for manual labour in connection with book education became especially manifest. It was not a pleasant task for one to stand in the mud-pit for hours, with the mud up to his knees. More than one man became disgusted and left the school.

We tried several locations before we opened up a pit that furnished brick clay. I had always supposed that brickmaking was very simple, but I soon found out by bitter experience that it required special skill and knowledge, particularly in the burning of the bricks. After a good deal of effort we moulded about twenty-five thousand bricks, and put them into a kiln to be burned. This kiln turned out to be a failure, because it was not properly constructed or properly burned. We began at once, however, on a second kiln. This, for some reason, also proved a failure. The failure of this kiln made it still more difficult to get the students to take part in the work. Several of the teachers, however, who had been trained in the industries at Hampton, volunteered their services, and in some way we succeeded in getting a third kiln ready for burning. The burning of a kiln required about a week. Toward the latter part of the week, when it seemed as if we were going to have a good many thousand bricks in a few hours, in the middle of the night the kiln fell. For the third time we had failed.

The failure of this last kiln left me without a single dollar with which to make another experiment. Most of the teachers advised the abandoning of the effort to make bricks. In the midst of my troubles I thought of a watch which had come into my possession years before. I took the watch to the city of Montgomery, which was not far distant, and placed it in a pawn-shop. I secured cash upon it to the amount of fifteen dollars, with which to renew the brickmaking experiment. I returned to Tuskegee, and, with the help of the fifteen dollars, rallied our rather demoralized and discouraged forces and began a fourth attempt to make bricks. This time, I am glad to say, we were successful. Before I got hold of any money, the time-limit on my watch had expired, and I have never seen it since; but I have never regretted the loss of it.

Brickmaking has now become such an important industry at the school that last season our students manufactured twelve hundred thousand of first-class bricks, of a quality suitable to be sold in any market. Aside from this, scores of young men have mastered the brickmaking trade—both the making of bricks by hand and by machinery—and are now engaged in this industry in many parts of the South.

The making of these bricks taught me an important lesson in regard to the relations of the two races in the South. Many white people who had had no contact with the school, and perhaps no sympathy with it, came to us to buy bricks because they found out that ours were good bricks. They discovered that we were supplying a real want in the community. The making of these bricks caused many of the white residents of the neighbourhood to begin to feel that the education of the Negro was not making him worthless, but that in educating our students we were adding something to the wealth and comfort of the community. As the people of the neighbourhood came to us to buy bricks, we got acquainted with them; they traded with us and we with them. Our business interests became intermingled. We had something which they wanted; they had something which we wanted. This, in a large measure, helped to lay the foundation for the pleasant relations that have continued to exist between us and the white people in that section, and which now extend throughout the South.

Wherever one of our brickmakers has gone in the South, we find that he has something to contribute to the well-being of the community into which he has gone; something that has made the community feel that, in a degree, it is indebted to him, and perhaps, to a certain extent, dependent upon him. In this way pleasant relations between the races have been stimulated.

My experience is that there is something in human nature which always makes an individual recognize and reward merit, no matter under what colour of skin merit is found. I have found, too, that it is the visible, the tangible, that goes a long ways in softening prejudices. The actual sight of a first-class house that a Negro has built is ten times more potent than pages of discussion about a house that he ought to build, or perhaps could build.

The same principle of industrial education has been carried out in the building of our own wagons, carts, and buggies, from the first. We now own and use on our farm and about the school dozens of these vehicles, and every one of them has been built by the hands of the students. Aside from this, we help supply the local market with these vehicles. The supplying of them to the people in the community has had the same effect as the supplying of bricks, and the man who learns at Tuskegee to build and repair wagons and carts is regarded as a benefactor by both races in the community where he goes. The people with whom he lives and works are going to think twice before they part with such a man.

Few people remember Booker T. Washington today, but that was not always the case. In 1946, thirty years after his death and one year before Jackie Robinson broke into major league baseball, the United States mint issued a commemorative half-dollar featuring Washington.

The coin was designed by Tuskegee professor Isaac Scott Hathaway and would be minted from 1946 through 1951. Click here for more detailed information. I managed to get my hands on one of these via eBay some years ago and it has made for a great historical artifact to accompany our reading of Up from Slavery.

Of Council Rock, Teedyuscung and "the Place of Solemn Assembly Visited by Delaware Indians"

"Teedyuscung," as he is know by the locals, gazes out over the Wissahickon
Creek toward the West. As he appeared in 2011.

 

Since I was a youth, I have enjoyed hiking in Valley Green—a beautiful stretch of Fairmount Park in Philadelphia along the Wissahickon Creek. A destination I have particularly favored is the limestone statue of an Indian which most of us locals have long referred to as Teedyuscung, chief of the Delawares. Originally placed on the spot in 1902, the statue is 12 feet high and the work of noted Scottish-American sculptor, John Massey Rhind. It sits high above Council Rock on a bluff commanding the east bank of the Wissahickon Creek. This picturesque location was so named because of its association with Lenape councils which took place there in olden days. I have been blessed to be able to share this pleasant spot with my own children and we have made the trek many times.

Sad to say, Valley Green has not been spared the ravages of Kenney-era Philadelphia. For reasons that remain obscure, the park has recently become a major party spot for revelers from out of state. Not that this is a bad thing on its face—the park is a public area that should be enjoyed by all. The problem is that many of the visitors who are part of the recent surge come to bathe in the creek (supposedly prohibited), set up grills and campsites, regale all and sundry with obnoxiously loud music, and leave piles of their filth behind for others to clean up. Things have gotten bad enough that locals are staging protests and Philly police have been blocking off parking lots, to little avail.

But honestly, the recent travails along Forbidden Drive are not what spurred me to write. It was, instead, a surprising complaint I heard from some representatives of the politically-obsessed but historically-challenged segment of society about the Indian statue specifically and any kind of Native American-inspired public art more generally. These are the folks who can't be bothered to read and analyze actual historical documents, but happily follow Howard-Zinn-style ersatz-history down whatever blind alleys it leads. Far from seeing the statue as an homage to Teedyuscung and the long departed Delawares (as it was intended), they claim that because it is not historically correct, the statue should be removed and/or replaced. Furthermore, they say, the rock upon which it sits was never a council site for the Lenape.

If this is starting to sound similar to my previous post about the statue of Christopher Columbus that was recently removed from Cooper River Park in New Jersey, keep reading.

Teedyuscung in Philadelphia
wearing his colonial-era finery.

With regard to the first issue, the statue does indeed show a Native American brave wearing a war-bonnet more typical of the Plains tribes of the 19th century than a Delaware of the mid-18th century. Interestingly, however, the only rough period depiction of Teedyuscung I could find showed him in a British great coat more reminiscent of William Penn than Tamanend (see image at right). I don't suppose that the complainants above would approve of a statue showing the Delaware chief in such garb, of course.

It is noteworthy that Rhind, the sculptor, never intended to depict Teedyuscung in this work, but rather a Native American figure looking toward the West, symbolizing the departure of the Delaware for Indian territory after the Treaty of Easton in 1758. According to the Friends of the Wissahickon Valley website:

“At the dedication of the statue, which was an event attended by the elite of the city and even by the governor of Pennsylvania, a presenter referred to the statue as 'Tedyuscung' and the name has persisted.” 

The presenter above may be forgiven this faux pas in that the existing stone statue replaced two wooden images that actually did depict Teedyuscung that had stood in the same spot but had deteriorated over the years. More about this below. 

So the claim that the statue is not a historically accurate representation of Teedyuscung is a red herring. It was never intended to be. That said, the statue itself is a beautiful piece of public art in perfect harmony with its surroundings, is a fitting tribute to Native peoples, and has its own very interesting history within local lore that should be respected. 

The second claim – that there is no evidence that Council Rock was ever an Indian meeting place – is simply not true. A post at the Hidden City site entitled “Monument to Ignorance” claims: “There is in fact little evidence that the Lenape lived along the Wissahickon. It is believed they came there to hunt and fish but that was all. Indeed, historians have found no evidence that so called 'council rock' was ever used as a gathering spot and a visit to the location reveals a rather small bluff that would hardly be a good location for a mass gathering.” 

In making that claim, Hidden City does not provide a citation to the research of those “historians who have found no evidence.” They do, however, make passing mention of an article by Rev. Thomas Middleton (1842-1923), a Catholic priest who was a convert from Quakerism and who later in life served as president of Villanova College. A read over Fr. Middleton’s article, entitled "Some Memoirs of Our Lady’s Shrine at Chestnut Hill, PA. AD 1855-1900", provides some fascinating evidence that Hidden City apparently overlooked—or disregarded. I am happy to post the following excerpt from this forgotten piece of history: 

“…There can be no question that at Chestnut Hill on the north bank of the picturesque Wissahickon is yet to be seen the place of solemn assembly visited by Delaware Indians, known to them as Council, (though now more commonly styled Indian,) Rock—an unfailing object of curiosity to passers-by on the Wissahickon road. In this reference to Council Rock, no pointed allusion is intended to their yearly visits thither of the Delaware Indians from Bethlehem, all Moravians, I should say. That members of this particular tribe with their chieftains, one of them Tedyuscung, whose name is famed in story and song, came periodically on pilgrimage to Chestnut Hill is unquestioned.

At Council Rock, April 2011.

But while there is no positive evidence, as must be said in all honesty, that Catholic Indians were settled at the Hill, or thereabouts, or even visited it, still, unless I am mistaken in my reasoning, there is a fair, even strong, probability, that while on their road to St. Joseph’s, or the city, and their return home, these same Indians were wont too with their other forest brethren to gather at Council Rock or matters of tribal or family discussion.

In his boyhood days the writer was acquainted with two aged maiden ladies—the Misses Lydia and Susan Piper, daughters of John Piper, whose residence (as it too had been their father’s) was a few years ago on the purchase of the property of Charles A. Newhall transformed by him into a coach-house. These two old dames (now many years dead) told the father of the writer how in their girlhood days, the Indians (we have been speaking of,) in their yearly pilgrimage to Council Rock never failed in passing by to stop at their father’s house, for hospitality on their way to the spot, that for ages maybe had been the meeting-place of their sires. John Piper was regarded by these wild children of the forest as their friend. From him they got food and drink; and were given shelter in his barn—a very tumble-down affair, just across Chestnut avenue in front of what once was the old Piper homestead.

Near by the “barn” or the ruins of it, the observer may yet descry their lines, though now barely distinguishable from the surrounding soil, are (or rather were) mounds of aboriginal construction, apparently used for burial purposes, as therein at one time (so the writer has been told) could be found interred various relics of Indian make, but of late years overturned and rifled of their contents by curio-seekers. Usually the visit to the Hill of these forest pilgrims lasted a month, during which time they were engaged chiefly in “pow-wows” around the Rock.

The "apse" described by Fr. Middleton
as it appeared in 2019.

And now having referred to the fact of Indian visits to the Hill, we come to their place of meeting on the Wissahickon, at Council Rock, about midway between the mansion of Chancellor C. English and the creek. The writer remembers when a boy visiting that famous shrine of Indian veneration, then apparently changed little from its primeval form and appearance. Projecting form under the hollowed front of this rock, that by art, or (as seems more probably) by nature, I know not which, had been scooped out like some rudely fashioned tiny chapel apse, was a ledge or shelf-like stone—something that might have served for a seat, or throne, for aboriginal chieftains, or may be as an altar of worship. All over the inner face of this cave, easily distinguishable then, were marks, symbolic signs, of odd-looking shape, of strokes and curves, or crooked lines, drawn in what seemed to be red and blue paints, which the writer remembers he was told, were inscriptions in Indian sign-language. These symbols, plain enough to view in the ‘50s, at the time of his earliest visits thither, are now no longer to be seen.

In those days, Council Rock was sheltered in the woods, and by the very fact of its solitude guarded from profanation. Trees and thick undergrowth of bushes and vines, which covered the Wissahickon hills, cut off all view of the Rock from around, while the very existence of the spot was known to but a few persons, and honored by still fewer.

There was no easy way of approach to the Rock—in fact, but few people seemed to know of it—some by the woodpaths, rough at best and unenticing, that winding snake-like among the trees led thither. At that time too along the creek, there was no drive, nor any Chestnut avenue running back (as now) from Thomas’ Mill road to within a short distance from the Rock. So that with the place little known, and the traditions centering around it in keeping of only a few persons, there was no mutilation of the shrine; no defacing the lines of it, no scratching out the symbols on it. Now the seat-like shape of this inner shelf in the cave has disappeared in large part—chipped away by relic-hunter, or thoughtless visitor….”

Also intriguing is Fr. Middleton’s further account describing the first image Teedyuscung which was placed on the spot to honor the Delaware chief. In fact, he had a personal connection to this wooden effigy erected in 1856. In the same article as above, he says: 

“The writer of these lines was witness too of the erection on the summit of Council Rock, mainly by the energy of his father, of the first image (in wood) of the venerable Tedyuscung, chief of the Delawares, and remembers moreover the many researches made in old books, and many discussions held by the parties of interest, to determine just how to guide the artist that was to paint the wooden icon of the departed Leni-Lenape brave and adorn him with colors proper to his race and tribe."

Fr. Middleton goes on to record the costs associated with erecting this first statue in detail. In a footnote below this passage, Fr. Middleton adds: “From the Germantown Telegraph I learn that the figure of Tedyuscung standing on the rock was placed in position on July 18, (Friday) 1856, “in commemoration of (his) last visit to the spot, which happened just one hundred years ago.” 

Fr. Middleton’s article may be read in its entirety here as part of a collection compiled by the American Catholic Historical Society of Philadelphia ~ Some Memoirs of Our Lady’s Shrine at Chestnut Hill, PA. AD 1855-1900. 

I found all of this to be fascinating and very compelling. 

Council Rock in the Wissahickon valley has a long and storied history, mostly unknown these days to those of us who grew up in the region. And if it must be pointed out that the statue on the Rock is not strictly accurate as to the figure’s dress, I say, “So what?” The concept of artistic license and symbolism is a long honored practice. If we start quibbling over the historical accuracy of works of art, then Joan of Arc on the Parkway will have to be replaced with a figure wearing more accurate 15th century French armor and the St. Gaudens Diana in the Art Museum atrium will have to come down because her hair-style is too 19th century for a supposed Roman goddess. Sadly, I have little doubt that the neo-ignorati who wish to dismount "Teedyuscung" at Council Rock would likely approve these innovations as well. Beauty and tradition are words that seem positively anathema to them.

By way of epilogue to this already overly-long article, allow me to add another interesting tid-bit from Fr. Middleton’s article about a fixture that should be immediately recognizable to anyone who frequents Forbidden Drive:

The Pro Bono Publico fountain as it appears
today.

Here on a quarter acre of land purchased by Mr. Cooke for this purpose and subsequently donated by him to the city of Philadelphia, was erected this granite fountain, on the design of one he had chanced upon in his travels in Europe. The writer remembers well the several phases in the genesis of this work of beneficence—the hewing of the granite in his father’s quarry, where the fountain was made, the chisellings and inscriptions on it by the hand of Richard Hunt, a stone-cutter; its erection on the spot it now adorns; and finally the fact that when connection had been made with the springs—there was a whole nest of them—at the rear of the monument on the hill-side, he was witness of the jubilee of the builders in their hailing the fountain as a boon to the public—PRO BONO PUBLICO—for the public good—being one of the inscriptions on it. ESTO PERPETUA—be thou everlasting—the other. And drinking therefrom, men and beasts straightway went their road refreshed and enlivened. (Middleton, page 26) 

Lamentably, it seems that the builders of yesteryear may have been overly optimistic in hopes that the works of their hands would remain in perpetuity. The facade mentioned above may still be seen on Forbidden Drive, but the fountain itself was sealed up in the 1950s because the water had become tainted. 

Our own age seems to be polluted with a foreign ideology that favors vandalism and destruction over inspiration and creativity. Too many of our young people were never taught to treasure and enhance their unique local heritage and have instead been fooled into a deleterious mindset reminiscent of students during the Cultural Revolution in China: that the past must be relentlessly swept away in the mindless pursuit of ephemeral material gains and counterproductive political changes.

"He wrote from experience, and in forcible language" ~ Saint John Cassianus

"How great is the evil of pride, that it rightly has no angel,
nor other virtues opposed to it, but God Himself as its adversary."
~Saint John Cassian

July 23 is the feast of Saint John Cassian. Though little remembered in our day, John Cassian was celebrated in his own time as one who helped introduce eastern ascetic practices to the Roman west. He was born ca. AD 360 and passed to eternal life around AD 435. His relics remain to this day in the city of Marseille, France, where he died.

He is featured among the Illustrious Men of his contemporary, Saint Jerome, who records his life and works as follows:

Cassianus, Scythian by race, ordained deacon by bishop John the Great [that is, Chrysostom], at Constantinople, and a presbyter at Marseilles, founded two monasteries, that is to say one for men and one for women, which are still standing. He wrote from experience, and in forcible language, or to speak more clearly, with meaning back of his words, and action back of his talk. He covered the whole field of practical directions, for monks of all sorts, in the following works: On dress, also On the canon of prayers, and the Usage in the saying of Psalms, (for these in the Egyptian monasteries, are said day and night), three books. One of Institutes, eight books On the origin, nature and remedies for the eight principal sins, a book on each sin. He also compiled Conferences with the Egyptian fathers, as follows: On the aim of a monk and his creed, On discretion, On three vocations to the service of God, On the warfare of the flesh against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh, On the nature of all sins, On the slaughter of the saints, On fickleness of mind, On principalities, On the nature of prayer, On the duration of prayer, On perfection, On chastity, On the protection of God, On the knowledge of spiritual things, On the Divine graces, On friendship, On whether to define or not to define, On three ancient kinds of monks and a fourth recently arisen, On the object of cenobites and hermits, On true satisfaction in repentance, On the remission of the Quinquagesimal fast, On nocturnal illusions, On the saying of the apostles, "For the good which I would do, I do not, but the evil which I would not, that I do," On mortification, and finally at the request of Leo the archdeacon, afterwards bishop of Rome, he wrote seven books against Nestorius, On the incarnation of the Lord, and writing this, made an end, both of writing and living, at Marseilles, in the reign of Theodosius and Valentinianus. [Jerome, On Illustrious Men]

Of these many works, the most well known today are his Institutes and his Conferences. These works remain extant to this day and are full of deep wisdom derived from Cassian’s conversations with the anchorite fathers of Egypt. Here are a few quotes from this rich mine of advice on how to live as an authentic follower of Christ:

“How great is the evil of pride, that it rightly has no angel, nor other virtues opposed to it, but God Himself as its adversary!” [Institutes, Book XII, Chapter 7]

“Above all we ought at least to know that there are three origins of our thoughts, i.e., from God, from the devil, and from ourselves.” [Conferences, Book 1, Chapter 19]

“When death has been brought upon a saint, we ought not to think that an evil has happened to him but a thing indifferent; which is an evil to a wicked man, while to the good it is rest and freedom from evils. For death is rest to a man whose way is hidden. And so a good man does not suffer any loss from it.” [Conferences, Book 6, Chapter 6]

“Among all these [types of friendship] then there is one kind of love which is indissoluble, where the union is owing not to the favor of a recommendation, or some great kindness or gifts, or the reason of some bargain, or the necessities of nature, but simply to similarity of virtue. This, I say, is what is broken by no chances, what no interval of time or space can sever or destroy, and what even death itself cannot part. This is true and unbroken love which grows by means of the double perfection and goodness of friends, and which, when once its bonds have been entered, no difference of liking and no disturbing opposition of wishes can sever.” [Conferences, Book 16, Chapter 3]

“We cannot possibly…make trial of spiritual combats if we are baffled in a carnal contest, and smitten down in a struggle with the belly.” [Institutes, Book 5, Chapter 19]

The image at the top is a 6th century mosaic portrait identified as "Cassianus" which may be found in the Archepiscopal Chapel in Ravenna, Italy. It is most likely not an image of Saint John Cassian, but of Saint Cassianus of Imola, a martyr of the mid-4th century.

"The black babies killed in the abortion clinic matter, right?" ~ The silence of the virtue-signaler exposed

If this American nation is to be saved, I posit that it will be black men who will lead the way.

Here is an example of a brave anonymous fellow who confronted a bunch of virtue-signalling medical drones on the paradox inherent in their position. The truth is this: to them, only certain black lives matter -- those that may be exploited to push forward the goals of the political left.

The video is a minute long and worth watching:

So proud of this man. #BlackLivesMatterpic.twitter.com/eJp4nSSNfz

— StephenHerreid (@StephenHerreid) June 16, 2020

Here is a transcript:

Speaker: “Do all black lives matter or just some black lives?”

Crowd of medical professionals: “All black lives matter.”

Speaker: “The black lives killed by black men matter, right? Yes?”

Crowd: “Yes.”

Speaker: “The black babies killed in the abortion clinic matter, right?”

Crowd: *silence*

Speaker: “Thought so. The black officers killed by that bastard in Minnesota, that matters too, right?”

A few in the crowd: "Yes."

Speaker: “OK. But the black babies killed in the abortion clinics don’t matter, do they, medical people.”

Crowd: *silence*

Speaker: “Do their lives matter? Does the future of our black babies matter? Huh?”

Crowd: *silence*

Speaker: “What’s up? What’s up? Awful quiet now, aren’t they? Uh huh. It’s ok if we kill ‘em in the womb, right? But we have a problem…you don’t seem to really have a problem if we kill ‘em on the streets. Yeah, but we know they’re the same issue. If we don’t respect the lives of our unborn children enough to save them and fight for them, our lives mean nothing once we’re born."

Here is a link to the video on YouTube in case Twitter decides that the video violates their "community standards."

Images of the Antifa Riots, May-June 2020

Posting some images and video links of the Antifa Riots in my area and around the US.

Screen grab from a video posted by @KensingtonBeach on
Instagram, May 31, 2020, taken in Philadelphia.
Text accompanying the video says:
"Antifa... Wonder what state or country this instigator is from.
It’s the devil coming in and getting everyone going. It’s bigger
then what the main stream media is showing.
#StayWoke #Philly @nbcnightlynews @abcworldnewstonight"

Twitter post shared by Jack Posobiec on May 31. Location
unknown. Two white or hispanic girls get called out for
spraypainting "BLM" on a Starbucks. The narrator says,
"I want you to know that this is not a Black woman putting
Black Lives Matter."

A presumed Antifa rioter gets tackled and turned over to
police by some otherwise peaceful protesters in DC. The
cretin was breaking up the curb with a hammer to acquire
projectiles when the protesters rushed him and pulled off
his hood, revealing a mop of gray hair. Posted on Twitter
by Breaking 911 on May 31, 2020..

Multi-ethnic police wrestle a presumed Antifa rioter to the ground
after he and another rioter smashed the police cruiser's windshield with their
skateboards. In another video of the same scene, we see protesters claiming that
their action was peaceful but the police escalated the situation--obviously not the case.
This Tweet by Miami cop, LATINA ON FIRE was posted on June 11 
and got 3.4 million views within 24 hours of posting.

Will post more as they come in.

Joan of Arc's Testimony of Her Voices and Her Mission

Detail from a World War I-era recruiting poster showing St. Joan of Arc.

Mark Twain called her: "Easily and by far the most extraordinary person the human race has ever produced."

G. K. Chesterton said of her: "She chose a path and went down it like a thunderbolt."

St. Therese of Lisieux, writing in a poem acclaimed her: 

"By a prodigy unique in history, 

People then saw a trembling monarch 

Regain his crown and his glory 

By means of a child's weak arm."

She was Saint Joan of Arc and all the superlatives that have been applied to her since her ignominious death at the stake on May 30, 1431 barely seem enough. Interestingly, thanks to the trial testimony which was scrupulously recorded, we have an incredibly detailed account of her life given under oath, something that is practically unique in history. 

Here is an excerpt of her testimony as regards to the Voices which she heard that drove her, an ignorant peasant girl, to become the heroine of all France. When asked if she received the Sacrament of the Eucharist at any other Feast but Easter, Joan replied:

"Pass that by. I was thirteen when I had a Voice from God for my help and guidance. The first time I heard this Voice, I was very much frightened. It was mid-day, in the summer, in my father's garden. I had not fasted the day before. I heard this Voice to my right, towards the Church—rarely do I hear it without its being accompanied by a light. This light comes from the same side as the Voice. Generally it is a very great light. Since I came into France I have often heard this Voice.

If I were in a wood, I could easily hear the voice which came to me. It seemed to me to come from lips I should reverence. I believed it was sent to me from God. When I heard it for the third time, I recognized that it was the Voice of an Angel. The Voice has always guarded me well, and I have always understood it. It instructed me to be good and to go often to Church. It told me it was necessary for me to come into France. You ask me under what form this Voice appeared to me? You will hear on more of it from me this time. It said to me two or three times a week: 'You must go into France.' My father knew nothing of my going. The Voice said to me: 'Go into France!' I could stay no longer. It said to me: 'Go raise the siege which is being made before the city of Orleans. Go!' it added, 'to Robert de Baudricourt, Captain of Vaucouleurs: he will furnish you with an escort to accompany you.'

And I replied that I was but a poor girl, who knew nothing of riding or fighting." [Taken from Murray: Jeanne D'Arc, Maid of Orleans, Deliverer of France]

Of riding and fighting Joan would learn, though it was said that she never actually drew a weapon in combat, only rode at the head of her army carrying her banner to rally the men. To get a sense of how Joan understood her mission, here is the text of a letter she sent to King Henry VI of England on March 22, 1429:

Jesus, Mary

King of England,

Render account to the King of Heaven of your royal blood. Return the keys of all the good cities which you have seized, to the Maid. She is sent by God to reclaim the royal blood, and is fully prepared to make peace, if you will give her satisfaction; that is, you must render justice, and pay back all that you have taken. King of England, if you do not do these things, I am the commander of the military; and in whatever place I shall find your men in France, I will make them flee the country, whether they wish to or not; and if they will not obey, the Maid will have them all killed. She comes sent by the King of Heaven, body for body, to take you out of France, and the Maid promises and certifies to you that if you do not leave France she and her troops will raise a mighty outcry as has not been heard in France in a thousand years. And believe that the King of Heaven has sent her so much power that you will not be able to harm her or her brave army. 

Drawing of the Maid, Joan of Arc, 
done during her lifetime. This
is the only known contemporary
image of St. Joan.

To you, archers, noble companions in arms, and all people who are before Orleans, I say to you in God's name, go home to your own country; if you do not do so, beware of the Maid, and of the damages you will suffer. Do not attempt to remain, for you have no rights in France from God, the King of Heaven, and the Son of the Virgin Mary. It is Charles, the rightful heir, to whom God has given France, who will shortly enter Paris in a grand company. If you do not believe the news written of God and the Maid, then in whatever place we may find you, we will soon see who has the better right, God or you.

William de la Pole, Count of Suffolk, Sir John Talbot, and Thomas, Lord Scales, lieutenants of the Duke of Bedford, who calls himself regent of the King of France for the King of England, make a response, if you wish to make peace over the city of Orleans! If you do not do so, you will always recall the damages which will attend you. 

Duke of Bedford, who call yourself regent of France for the King of England, the Maid asks you not to make her destroy you. If you do not render her satisfaction, she and the French will perform the greatest feat ever done in the name of Christianity. 

Done on the Tuesday of Holy Week (March 22, 1429).

Hear the words of the Maid.

It is said that Joan died of smoke inhalation and that the fire burned only her feet and hands. Another fire was lit and this burned her corpse—all except her heart and intestines. A third fire would have to be kindled to reduce the vitals of the Maid to ash. Many of the relics associated with Saint Joan were destroyed by the atheistic fanaticism of the French Revolutionaries, but a few survive. A good account of what remains may be found in this post at Unam Sanctam Catholicam: Are there any relics of Joan of Arc? 

 

"Some of Them Lived Even to Our Day" ~ The lost Apology of Saint Quadratus

18th century Dutch engraving of St. Quadratus of Athens by Jan Luyken.

May 26 is the feast of the early Church father Saint Quadratus of Athens. He is primarily known as a very early apologist for the faith who presented his arguments directly to the emperor Hadrian while the latter was visiting Athens, sometime between AD 124 and AD 132.

Practically all of what is known of his life may be found in this brief biographical notice in Saint Jerome’s work, On Illustrious Men:

Quadratus, disciple of the apostles, after Publius bishop of Athens had been crowned with martyrdom on account of his faith in Christ, was substituted in his place, and by his faith and industry gathered the church scattered by reason of its great fear. And when Hadrian passed the winter at Athens to witness the Eleusinian mysteries and was initiated into almost all the sacred mysteries of Greece, those who hated the Christians took opportunity without instructions from the Emperor to harass the believers. At this time he presented to Hadrian a work composed in behalf of our religion, indispensable, full of sound argument and faith and worthy of the apostolic teaching. In which, illustrating the antiquity of his period, he says that he has seen many who, oppressed by various ills, were healed by the Lord in Judea as well as some who had been raised from the dead.

Jerome later says that Quadratus presented his Apology to Hadrian at the same time as Aristides of Athens, a Christian philosopher, presented his Apology. Sadly, the apology of Quadratus was subsequently lost. Only a single brief passage was preserved in the Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius as follows:

But the works of our Savior were always present, for they are genuine: those that were healed and those that were raised from the dead, who were seen not only when they were healed and when they were raised, but were also always present. And not merely while the Savior was on earth, but also after His death, they were alive for quite a while, so that some of them lived even to our day. [Taken from The Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius]

Eusebius says that the work “is still in the hands of a great many of the brethren, as also in our own, and furnishes clear proofs of the man’s understanding and of his apostolic orthodoxy.” The Apology of Quadratus was still known at late as the early 7th century AD when it is mentioned in a work by the bishop Eusebius of Thessalonika against the monk, Andrew, who embraced the heresy known as aphthartodocetism. Sadly, this work is also lost, though a summary of it exists in the Bibliotheca of Photius.

Tradition considers Quadratus a confessor, rather than a martyr. Several images of his martyrdom may be found online, though these most likely depict other early martyrs of the same name (eg. Quadratus of Corinth) and were mislabeled.

Click here for more info.

It has been speculated by some modern scholars that Quadratus was also the author of the anonymous Letter to Diognetus, and that his Apology and the Letter may be one in the same. But this theory has been largely disregarded because the Letter does not contain the quote pulled out by Eusebius.

Read the full text of the Letter to Diognetus in: I Am A Christian: Authentic Accounts of Christian Martyrdom and Persecution from the Ancient Sources.

Commander of the Union Army: Giuseppe Garibaldi?

Giuseppe Garibaldi as a Union General? Could it have happened?

While sorting through a gigantic pile of my deceased father's old papers, I found a newspaper clipping with the title: How Lincoln tried to enlist Garibaldi.

What?

I had never heard this tale before, so I immediately stopped to read the brief article. It began as follows:

An argument which has raged for more than a century over rumors that a hard-pressed Abraham Lincoln appealed to Giuseppe Garibaldi to save the Union in the American Civil War appears to have been settled after the discovery of documentary proof in Garibaldi's own handwriting.

The article then goes on to say that the proof was a small postcard which was found among the royal papers of the exiled House of Savoy which were donated to the state archives in Turin. The postcard was addressed from Garibaldi to Victor Emmanuel II, King of Piedmont-Sardinia, and later King of the united Italy. In it, Garibaldi sought permission to accept the offer to command the American armies. I did a little digging and found the translated text of the postcard here:

Sire, the President of the United States is offering me the command of that army. I find myself obliged to accept this mission for a country of which I am a citizen. Nevertheless before making my decision I thought it was my duty to inform Your Majesty, and to know if you think that I might have the honor of serving him. I have the honor to say that I am the most devoted servant of your Majesty. [Taken from: Garibaldi: Democracy and Civil Rights, p. 47]

And Victor Emmanuel responded as follows:

Do what you are inspired to do by your conscience, which is always your sole guide in affairs of such grave portent, and whatever decision you take, I am certain that you will not forget the dear Italian patria which is always utmost in your own and my thoughts. [Taken from: Garibaldi: Democracy and Civil Rights, p. 47]

Now, there are numerous things going on here of which I was not aware before I began venturing down this rabbit-hole. It seems that Garibaldi had indeed visited America from July 1850 through April 1851, spending most of his time in New York City and working in a candle factory. He even managed to get himself arrested for violating a local hunting ordinance while there. So he did have at least a brief history in the US.

Whether Garibaldi became a US citizen while visiting New York is a matter of dispute. He certainly did join a Masonic lodge while in the States, which is not surprising given his hostility to the Catholic Church. Also, it seems clear that many Americans looked fondly upon Garibaldi as the liberator of Italy and as an inveterate opponent of "Romanism", given that the nation was in the throes of a violent anti-Catholic movement in the 1850s.

What remains unclear is whether Garibaldi had any serious intention of leading Union armies in battle, or whether he was simply seeking to use the offer as leverage to convince Victor Emmanuel to call him out of retirement.

The story of how Garibaldi came to be considered as leader of the Union army is an involved one, the details of which may be found in this article—"Lincoln's Offer of a Command to Garibaldi" in The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, November 1907 issue. In brief, admirers of Garibaldi, when discussing the outbreak of war in America, suggested that his intervention as a military commander might help bring the war to a rapid conclusion. One man, J. W. Quiggle, suggested that Garibaldi might even surpass Lafayette in the annals of American history should he assume such a role.

These ideas, it seems, eventually made their way Washington. Writing immediately after the Union disaster at First Bull Run in July of 1861, Secretary of State William Seward sent a letter to Henry Sanford, American minister in Brussels that read, in part:

I wish to proceed at once and enter into communication with the distinguished soldier of freedom [Garibaldi]. Say to him that this government believes his services in the present contest for the unity and liberty of the American People, would be exceedingly useful, and that, therefore, they are earnestly desired and invited. Tell him that this government believes he will, if possible, accept this call, because it is too certain that the fall of the American Union, if indeed it were possible, would be a disastrous blow to the cause of Human Freedom equally here, in Europe, and throughout the world. 

Tell him that he will receive a Major-General’s commission in the army of the United States, with its appointments, with the hearty welcome of the American People. [Taken from Lincoln's Offer of a Command to Garibaldi]

Negotiations proceeded from this point, and by September 9, 1861, Sanford was dispatched to speak with Garibaldi in person about accepting the commission. Sanford found out that the "distinguished soldier of freedom" had higher expectations than his superiors in Washington had anticipated:

[Garibaldi] said that the only way in which he could render service, as he ardently desired to do, to the cause of the United States was as Commander-in-chief of its forces, that he would only go as such, and with the additional contingent power—to be governed by events—of declaring the abolition of slavery—that he would be of little use without the first, and without the second it would appear like a civil war in which the world at large could have little interest or sympathy. [Taken from Lincoln's Offer of a Command to Garibaldi]

Clearly, Garibaldi had no intention of coming to the United States to serve under men like McDowell, McClellan, Hooker, Burnside, or Pope. He wanted full authority—even executive authority—that may have been possible in rather disorganized places like mid-19th century Italy or South America, but was impossible in the United States, even with a widespread insurrection raging. Whether or not the crafty Garibaldi knew that his terms were a poison pill is a matter for further discussion.

By September 14, Sanford had written to Seward of his failure to enlist General Garibaldi to the Union cause. Thus ended any semi-official negotiations with Washington, though various American ministers in Europe continued to correspond with Garibaldi on the idea for at least another year.

In August 1863, less than a year after the promulgation of the Emancipation Proclamation, and a month after the Battle of Gettysburg, Garibaldi and other "Italian liberals" wrote a letter to Lincoln that appeared in the New York Times. In this letter, he said:

If in the midst of the danger of your titanic strife, our voices may also mingle, O Lincoln, let us the free Sons of Columbus send a message of augury and of admiration of the great work you have initiated. Heir of the thought of Christ and of [John] Brown, you will pass to posterity with the name of Emancipator—more enviable than any crown or any human treasure. [Taken from: Holzer: Dear Mr. Lincoln, p. 129-130]

It should be pointed out that Catholic historians have quite another view of Garibaldi that throws the entirety of this incident into quite a different light. These writers most often portray Garibaldi as a brigand leading brigands; a double-dealing traitor whose word could not be trusted; a radical who attained his goals by force-of-arms; a reckless anarchist and thoughtless destroyer of art, culture and civilization. In other words, they show him to be a proto-socialist radical of the type which would fill the next century with blood and fire.

Later in his life, Garibaldi would write in support of unifying Freemasons, rationalists, workers' societies, etc. into a socialist block. He called for the abolition of the Papacy. In his biography of Pope Pius IX, Alexius J. M. Mills described Garibaldi as follows:

[A] man who from earliest youth, sworn to the secret societies, has passed through every form of wickedness and every scene of desperation—the very evil genius of his unfortunate countrymen. Our readers will perceive at once that we are referring to Joseph Garibaldi—smuggler, pirate, bandit, and chief tool of modern assassins. [Taken from Mills, The Life of Pope Pius IX, p. 115]

Given all this, it is probably for the best that Lincoln's cabinet members listened to the better angels of their nature and left off attempting to provide such a man with an army corps, let alone with command of the entire Union Army. One can only imagine the chaos such a general might have caused, not to mention the jealously and resentment he would have engendered among the native officers.

"One of the most impressive religious ceremonies I have ever witnessed" ~ Father William Corby's general absolution at Gettysburg

Detail from Absolution under Fire by Paul Wood, 1891.

We are studying the Civil War as a family these days, and unlike many other historical events, there is no shortage of good films dealing with the this topic, among them: Glory, Gods and Generals, and Gettysburg.

We watched Gettysburg last night. I hadn’t seen it since it was originally released in 1993 when I saw it on the big screen. Since that time, I have visited the battlefield at least twice. The last time was in 2016 with my oldest daughter on our way back from a homeschool conference in Maryland. It was during that visit that we came across the statue of Father William Corby showing him in the act of giving general absolution on the second day of the battle. I hadn't heard of him before finding his statue, but he has stuck with me ever since. So while watching Gettysburg this time around, I kept my eye out for Fr. Corby.

Lo, and behold...


It seems that Fr. Corby's action had a greater historical import than I had first imagined. Aside from the statue on the battlefield, originally erected in 1910, there are at least two paintings of the event: the one by Paul Wood as seen above, and another by historical artist Bradley Schmehl which may be seen below.

The following account appears in Father Corby's 1893 book, Memoirs of Chaplain's Life:

At about four o’clock the Confederates commenced firing, and about one hundred and twenty cannons from their side belched forth from their fiery throats missiles of death into our lines. The Third Corps were pressed back, and at this critical moment I proposed to give a general absolution to our men, as they had absolutely no chance to practice their religious duties during the past two or three weeks, being constantly on the march. Here I will quote the account of Maj.-Gen. St. Clair Mulholland, then a colonel in the Irish Brigade, a Christian gentleman and as brave a soldier as any in the Army of the Potomac, to which his wounds and army record will testify:

“Now (as the Third Corps is being pressed back), help is called for, and Hancock tells Caldwell to have his men ready. ‘Fall in!’ and the men run to their places. ‘Take arms!’ and the four brigades of Zook, Cross, Brook, and Kelly are ready for the fray. There are yet a few minutes to spare before starting, and the time is occupied by one of the most impressive religious ceremonies I have ever witnessed. The Irish Brigade, which had been commanded formerly by Gen. Thomas Francis Meagher, and whose green flag had been unfurled in every batted in which the Army of the Potomac had been engaged from the first Bull Run to Appomattox, and was now commanded by Col. Patrick Kelly of the Eighty-eighth New York, formed a part of his division. The brigade stood in columns of regiments, closed in mass. As a large majority of its members were Catholics, the Chaplain of the brigade, Rev. William Corby, proposed to give a general absolution to all the men before going into the fight.

“While this is customary in the armies of Catholic countries of Europe, it was perhaps the first time it was ever witnessed on this continent, unless, indeed the grim old warrior, Ponce de Leon, as he tramped through the Everglades of Florida in search of the Fountain of Youth, or De Soto, on his march to the Mississippi, indulged in this act of devotion.

As an aside, Gen. Mulholland is likely forgetting the French presence on the continent. Considering the number of battles fought by French armies in America between 1609 and 1754, it is quite likely that general absolution was offered at some point prior to Gettysburg. To continue...

Father Corby stood on a large rock in front of the brigade. Addressing the men, he explained what he was about to do, saying that each one could receive the benefit of absolution by making a sincere Act of Contrition and firmly resolving to embrace the first opportunity of confessing his sins, urging them to do their duty, and reminding them of the high and sacred nature of their trust as soldiers and the noble object for which they fought….The brigade was standing at ‘Order arms!’ As he closed his address, every man, Catholic and non-Catholic, fell on his knees with his head bowed down. Then, stretching his right hand toward the brigade, Fr. Corby pronounced the words of absolution:

‘Dominus noster Iesus Christus vos absolvat, et ego, auctoritate ipsius, vos absolvo ab omni vinculo, excommunicationis interdicti, in quantum possum et vos indigetis deinde ego absolvo vos, a pecatis vestris, in nomini Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.’

“The scene was more than impressive; it was awe-inspiring. Near by stood a brilliant throng of officers who had gathered to witness this very unusual occurrence, and while there was profound silence in the ranks of the Second Corps, yet over to the left, out by the peach orchard and Little Round Top, where Weed and Vincent and Hazlitt were dying, the roar of the battle rose and swelled and re-echoed through the woods, making music more sublime than ever sounded through cathedral aisle.

Absolution at Gettysburg by Bradley Schmehl.

“I do not think there was a man in the brigade who did not offer up a heart-felt prayer. For some it was their last; they knelt there in their grave clothes. In less than half an hour many of them were numbered with the dead of July 2. Who can doubt that their prayers were good? What was wanting in the eloquence of the priest to move them to repentance was supplied in the incidents of the fight. That heart would be incorrigible, indeed, that the scream of a Whitworth bolt, added to Father Corby’s touching appeal, would not move to contrition.”

Here ends General Mulholland's account. Father Corby now picks up the story in his own voice:

In performing this ceremony I faced the army. My eye covered thousands of officers and men. I noticed that all, Catholic and non-Catholic, officers and private soldiers, showed profound respect, wishing at this fatal crisis to receive every benefit of divine grace that could be imparted through the instrumentality of the Church ministry. Even Maj.-Gen. Hancock removed his hat, and, as far as compatible with the situation, bowed in reverential devotion.

That general absolution was intended for all—in quantum possum—not only for our brigade, but for all, North or South, who were susceptible of it and who were about to appear before their Judge. Let us hope that many thousands of souls, purified by hardships, fasting, prayer, and blood, met a favorable sentence on the ever memorable battlefield of Gettysburg….

During a visit to the Gettysburg battlefield, about a year ago, in 1889, Maj.-Gen. Mulholland told me that a soldier of his regiment knelt near him while the general absolution was being given and prayed with more fervor than the General had ever before witnessed. Twenty minutes later that poor soldier was a corpse!...

About a week after the battle, while on the march, a captain, a non-Catholic, rode up to me, and after an introduction by a friend, said: “Chaplain, I would like to know more about your religion. I was present on that awful day, July 2, when you ‘made a prayer,’ and while I have often witnessed ministers make prayers, I never witnessed one so powerful as the one you made that day in front of Hancock’s corps just as the ball opened with one hundred twenty guns blazing at us.”

Just then I found use for my handkerchief to hide a smile which stole to my countenance caused by the, to me, peculiar phraseology in which the good captain expressed his mind. I could not but admire his candid, outspoken manner, though, and I gave him an invitation to call on me in camp, when I would take pleasure on giving him all the information in my power.

Statue of Fr. Corby at Gettysburg.

One good result of the Civil War was the removing of a great amount of prejudice. When men stand in common danger, a fraternal feeling springs up between them and generates a Christian, charitable sentiment that often leads to most excellent results. [Corby, Memoirs of Chaplain Life, pages 181-186].

It is my intention to return to Gettysburg with the whole family this summer. It will be the first visit for most of them and they should be well-prepared in terms of their history lessons. While there, we'll be certain to pay a visit the statue of Fr. Corby to say a prayer for the repose of his soul, and for all those who suffered and died on those fields.

We'll also be sure to find the statue of that other Civil War figure from the Gray side with a strong Catholic connection, General James Longstreet which my daughter and I didn't find last time. Bishop Joseph Keily of Savannah, who served under Longstreet at Gettysburg, eulogized him in 1904 as a "brave soldier, gallant gentleman, consistent Christian."

"We Forgot about the Salvation of Souls" ~ Archbishop Sheen's heartfelt warning in Philadelphia, December 8, 1977

Venerable Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen speaking in Philadelphia on the feast of the Immaculate Conception, December 8, 1977.

On December 8, 1977, Venerable Fulton J. Sheen came to the Philadelphia area to preach to a packed house at the Immaculate Heart of Mary parish in Roxborough. This church is about 10 minutes from where I grew up, and I was seven years old at the time of the event. Though I didn't attend, my aunt and uncle did. This was probably the closest I ever came to Archbishop Sheen during my lifetime. It was his first talk after a six-month hiatus recovering from heart surgery.

I was recently reminded of the event by my aunt who gave me a newspaper clipping that she had saved for over 40 years. The article is a disjointed and fairly bland recounting of what must have been a stark and riveting lecture. One almost gets the sense that the reporter was bored by Sheen's presentation, or struggled to comprehend it. The article feels like it was cobbled together from hastily taken notes.

But now, 42 years later, even read through the filter of uninspired reportage, Archbishop Sheen's words radiate a sense of foreboding—a softly spoken clarion call made by an elderly Cassandra who knew well that his days were numbered.

The article appeared under a banner that read: "We Forgot About the Salvation of Souls". Then, beneath that in large type: "Small, Humble Archbishop Speaks."

Following are some excerpts from the article:

Nearly 2,000 persons silently listen to the voice that was once strong and vibrant and now still goes on bringing the word of Christ. But the voice of Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen is not reaching as many as he once did when millions were waiting and watching him speak on nation-wide television.... 

"The last sermon I preached was last June," he said. "Then followed a gap." He remarked that he had open heart surgery. He is now 82.

"But I am privileged to be with you on the feast of the Immaculate Conception." He was there to help celebrate the 25th anniversary of the Immaculate Heart of Mary Parish.  

"Let me tell you about the changes in the Church since this parish began," he said in a soft voice.  

"In the two decades since this church was founded [that is, 1952], we have seen many changes. The Church dies and rises again. Its law is the law of Christ. There is Good Friday, then Easter and the Resurrection. 

"The Church has undergone a great many changes in the past few years. There will be many changes in the years to come. Some sisters thought it would be unbecoming to teach children. The then current word was 'involvement.' Some thought they should not be dedicated to the sanctification of souls. They said they had to be involved in the social and economic world. 

"The only thing that they thought mattered," Archbishop Sheen said, "was the social order."

From this critical opening, the Archbishop pivoted to a bit of recent history:

"In 1974, the Holy Father asked us to preach the Gospel to the people. Evangelization." The little man, a bit pale, pointed his right index finger at the huge assemblage. He said that people had little concern during some of the recent years for the Church. "They were interested in the Panama Canal, the Mideast and India. In the former decade the name of Christ was hardly named." 

"We forgot about the salvation of souls."

Here we see the prescience of Venerable Fulton Sheen on full display. But if he thought things were bad in the Church then, what would he think of our own time when entire orders of teaching sisters have evaporated, and you're more likely to see pant-suited sisters celebrated for riding a bus cross-country in support of the welfare state boondoggle du jour than for teaching children. Of course, modern-day prophet that he was, Sheen no doubt saw what was coming. Perhaps his angel was whispering in his ear.

The article as it was preserved.

At this point, Sheen again pivoted to bring the Blessed Virgin into the conversation, this being especially appropriate given the venue (IHM Parish) and the feast of the Immaculate Conception.

"The Immaculate Heart of Mary gives to us a model on how to live a life for the Church. When you love," the Archbishop warned, "you must be prepared to have your heart wrung and maybe broken. So when you love, you will have your heart broken."

This aphorism is almost word-for-word drawn from The Four Loves by C. S. Lewis. Most likely, Sheen cited Lewis as his source during the talk. But he applies the quote directly to the love our Lady had for her Son, Jesus:

"The Virgin Mary is the model. Mary has had her heart broken, but she loved her son and His mission. Oh, how He trained her to be a mother of all children. Oh, how Mary had to have a broken heart. How many times has she pondered those words, 'Mother, what matters is that I am doing my Father's will.'"

And by that, he didn't mean St. Joseph, of course. The article mentions here that Sheen pointed to the roof of the church and said, "There is my Father in heaven." To continue...

"Mary was taught one lesson after another about having her heart wrung. The climax was when it finally happened on the Cross. Mary was heartbroken. She surrendered her Son to the heavenly Father, sacrificed for the redemption of our sins."

"When they rammed that sword into Jesus, they also plunged it into the side of Mary. In the end, there is only one heart."

"This is the kind of love we have to have for the Church."

Did you catch that? By my interpretation, the good Archbishop was artfully interjecting a little of his own travail into the narrative. Here was a man whose heart was even then being wrung because of his love for the Church which he had served since his ordination in 1919. Here was a man who had allowed himself to be used up and burnt out in his unflagging efforts to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And yet here, at the end of his life, he has caught a glimpse of fell things to come, fell things already in progress within the Church. And his heart, quite literally, is broken.

Sheen continued:

"To remake the Church this is the kind of love we will have to have. We must sacrifice to prove our love. What is the mission of the Church now? Outside is the poor lost sheep. We must find them and bring them to the Lord. But if you love, you must be prepared to love and have your heart broken. I believe that the spirit of love is even descending upon Russia. After years, we have turned a corner: we can leave other things aside. 

"When the good Lord comes, he will show His wounds to the world. 

"The Church has failed in the last ten years.

"Is your heart broken?"

Part of me thinks that the good Archbishop, gifted speaker that he was, left unsaid his own implicit answer to that question: "Mine is."

In his unique, unintentionally prophetic way, Sheen was preparing all of us to have our hearts broken by the grotesque and ongoing failures of the Church that we love, failures that are more evident and horrifying than any that were known in his day. But he was also reminding us to have patience and trust in God: "The Church dies and rises again."

Two years later, on December 9, 1979, Archbishop Sheen would go to his eternal reward. He surely died of a broken heart that the ministrations of mere mortal surgeons could not mend.