Catherine of Siena by Sigrid Undset, 2nd Read, Post #3

This is the third post on the second read of Sigrid Unset’s Catherine of Siena. 

You can find Post #1 here.  

Post #2 here.  

Summary

Chapter 5:

Catherine is forced out of her cell by Christ so that she can engage the world and thereby bring souls to salvation.  At daily Mass she would take communion and go into ecstasies.  In her ministry she helped the poor and cared for the sick.  In all she engaged life with such sweetness and joy that a number of townspeople began to consider Catherine, despite being younger than they, their spiritual mother.

Chapter 6:

Having completed her cell of self-knowledge, Catherine is asked by Christ to enter the world to perform His mission.  She takes on the duties of a nurse, where she cares for the most horrible of patients, patients that no one else wanted to care for, either because of the patient’s irascibility or because of the repulsiveness of the patient’s disease.  Through these hardships, Catherine is triumphant coming to learn that the blood of Christ is what lets the soul receive grace.

Chapter 7:

Undset provides a rendering of the violent and acrimonious Sienese politics, the noble family feuds, and how these feuds and acrimony permeated even the religious of Siena.  We learn of Catherine’s father’s death in 1368 and how his sons became involved in the Sienese politics.  She tells of how Lapa had momentarily died and then brought back to life on Catherine’s prayer.

Chapter 8:

Undset reaches the transitionary year of 1370 in Catherine’s life.  We see here that the followers Catherine has gathered around her have become almost an institution and re about her all her waking moments.  We see her become more involved in the events of her town.  We see how the death of her father has dispersed the family, and where she herself had to relocate her residence.  We see her have three major mystical experiences: the exchange of hearts, the mystical death, and the partial stigmata.

###

This book is so well written. I can't remember a saint's biography written this well. I'm totally enjoying the writing as well as content.

I will say there is one little tic in the writing that's a little annoying, and I suspect it may have to do with the translation. I assume Undset wrote this in her native Norwegian, though she was proficient in English. The book frequently refers to male Dominicans and even Franciscans as "monks." Monks are from the Benedictines and other monastic orders. Dominicans and Franciscans and other mendicant and itinerate orders are called "friars." I wonder if the word monk and friar is the same in Norwegian.

My Reply to Frances:

Frances wrote: "Thank you, Manny. Until you wrote this, I had thought that a man committed to the cloistered life is called a monk, regardless of the religious order."

I guess it depends on what the definition of "cloistered" is. I'm not exactly sure. If cloistered refers to those limited to a monastery, then they are usually called a monk. Wikipedia has a good explanation of the term friar. Here's the opening paragraph: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friar

"A friar is a brother and a member of one of the mendicant orders founded in the twelfth or thirteenth century; the term distinguishes the mendicants' itinerant apostolic character, exercised broadly under the jurisdiction of a superior general, from the older monastic orders' allegiance to a single monastery formalized by their vow of stability. The most significant orders of friars are the Dominicans, Franciscans, Augustinians and Carmelites."

Think of it as this way: monks are homebodies, friars are traveling salesmen. ;)

Plus, haven't you read the Canterbury Tales? There was at least one monk and there were several friars.

 

My Reply to Kerstin:

Kerstin wrote: "Very possible. In German there is no distinction between monk and friar. A mendicant is a begging monk."

That would explain it. Norwegian is a Germanic language. But it does surprise me somewhat. Germans seem to love to create words. I would think they would have created a word for friar. Friar comes from the Latin for "brother." How do you say "brother" in German?

 

My Reply to Irene & Kerstin:

Yes Irene and Kerstin, every non priest religious is addressed as "brother." You may have missed my point. The term "friar" which is the title of a Dominican and Franciscan, has its Latin etymology in "brother." From the Etymology dictionary:

friar (n.)
late 13c., from Old French frere "brother, friar" (9c., Modern French frère), originally referring to the mendicant orders (Franciscans, Augustines, Dominicans, Carmelites), who reached England early 13c., from Latin frater "brother" (from PIE root *bhrater- "brother").

 

My Reply to Joseph:

Joseph wrote: "I was particularly moved by the descriptions of St. Catherine's nursing endeavors. My grandmother and aunt are both nurses and I think they'd be floored at the conditions that Catherine was working..."

Yes, Catherine of Siena is a patron saint of nurses, among other patronages. If a nurse works in love and in support of Christ, how could she not get to heaven? A nurse is probably among the most saintly of occupations, even more so than a doctor.

###

Chapter V presents an important transition in Catherine’s life.  It’s worth reading over the entire narrative.

A little while after her mystical betrothal Catherine again saw her Lord in a vision.  It was at the time of day when the good folk of Siena gathered round the dinner table.  Jesus said: “You are to go and seat yourself at the table with your family.  Talk to them kindly, and then come back here.”

 

When Catherine heard these words she began to weep—she was so completely unprepared to leave her cell and her life of contemplation and mix again with people in the world.  But our Lord was firm:

 

“Go in peace.  In this way you shall serve Me and become more perfectly united to Me through love of Me and your neighbor, and then you will be able to rise even more quickly to heaven, as though on wings.  Do you remember how the desire to bring souls to salvation burned in you while you were still a little child—and that you dreamed of dressing yourself as a man and entering the order of the Friars Preachers to work for this end?”

 

Although Catherine was more than willing to obey the will of God she tried to raise objections: “But how can I be of any use in the work of saving souls, I who am merely Your poor servant girl?  For I am a woman, and it is not seemly for my sex to teach men, or even to speak with them.  Besides, they take no notice of what I say,” she sighed.

 

But Jesus replied as the Archangel Gabriel had once replied:

 

“All things are possible for God who has created everything from nothing.  I know that you say this from humility, but you must know that in these days pride has grown monstrously among men, and chiefly among those who are learned and think they understand everything.  It was for this reason that at another period I sent out simple men who had no human learning, but were filled by Me with divine wisdom, and let them preach.  Today I have chosen unschooled women, fearful and weak by nature, but trained by Me in the knowledge of the divine, so that they may put vanity and pride to shame.  If men will humbly receive the teachings I send them through the weaker sex I will show them great mercy, but if they despise these women they shall fall into worse confusion and even greater agony.

 

“Therefore my daughter, you shall humbly do My will, for I will never fail you; on the contrary, I will come to you as often as before and I will guide and help you in all things.”

 

Catherine bowed her head, rose and went from her chamber and seated herself at the table with her family.  It is a pity that none of Catherine’s biographers has described for us the amazement it must have caused Jacopo and Lapa to see their hermit daughter seated among them…  (p. 51-2)

 

There are a number of observations one could make from this passage.  The most striking to me as a Lay Dominican is in how this follows the Dominican charism.  There is a period of contemplation and there is a period of going out into the world to preach.  That is the Dominican mission, to go out into the world for the salvation of souls.  Christ even uses those words.  One must have a period of study and contemplation, but ultimately one has to share one's contemplation.  The Order of Preachers have several mottos, but one of them is “contemplare et contemplata aliis tradere (“To contemplate and to share with others the fruit of one’s contemplation”).  One supposes Catherine could have joined any number of orders, but it is most fitting she joined the Order of Preachers.

Second, the fact that she’s a woman seems to not be a wall to her mission, but as Christ points out it’s actually a necessity.  It’s true, women before Catherine did not preach except within monasteries and convents.  Either out of convention of the times or unspoken public rule (I don’t think it was a Church doctrine) but women did not preach in public.  The only notable exception I can think of was St. Hildegard of Bigen, and she obtained endorsement from St. Bernard of Clairvaux and then permission from the papacy.  I can’t think of another woman unless you go back to apostolic times and church mothers.  St. Catherine was really breaking a mold here.

Third, once you have entered the cocoon of spiritual contemplation, it is very hard to come out of it.  Catherine weeps when she hears she must do so.  Can you imagine feeling the security, spiritual comfort, and orderliness of spending three years with God alone and then having to come out?  And then from the family’s perspective to have what must seemed like the “crazy woman in the attic” come down after three years locked away must have been startling.  Yes, it is too bad the biographers did not get their reactions.

Fourth, Catherine bowing her head and coming out, reminds me of Elijah coming out of the cave and hearing the “still small voice” of God in 1 Kings 19:12.  I think that is a fitting allusion for Catherine’s new life of ministry.

### 

My Reply to Joseph who mentions the Andrea Vanni painting of Catherine.

Oh I'm sorry I didn't link it. Yes, the  Vanni painting is the only painting of her during her lifetime. Here it is:

If my memory serves me correctly, the lily and the woman kneeling in front of her were added after her death. There is a bust of Catherine which I think was made shortly after her death. It does have her likeness.

As you may have read, upon her death, Rome and Siena squabbled over her relics. Rome kept the body but they sent the head and thumb to Siena. Her head is on display. The centuries have altered it a bit, but you can actually see her features here.

Also, if you go to this link, you will see pictures of the places in St. Catherine's world, like her home and cell under the stairs.

 

My Comment:

I just read an explanation of the marble bust. The claim by the artist is he made it from a mold from her "death mask." That is, a cast of her head as she lay dead. So if true, that's as close to actual facial features as one can get.

As I've looked at these over the years, I have to say that for a woman who supposedly never ate, she doesn't exactly look emaciated. If you look at the actual head relic, there seems to be a good deal of flesh still on there.

 

My Reply to Joseph:

Joseph wrote: "I appreciate the historical irony that St. Catherine is buried over the Temple of Minerva, the Roman Goddess of War. It seems very appropriate that a woman who spent her later life working for peac..."

LOL, I never thought about that. Yes, she did work tirelessly for peace, but not as widely known today (probably because it's politically incorrect) but St. Catherine supported another crusade against Islam. If the cause was right she wasn't against all war.

Also, Minerva was also the goddess of wisdom, and I think Catherine had a lot of wisdom. Nice pickup Joseph. I like that. :)

 

My Reply to Irene & Gerri:

Irene wrote: "I thought Catherine herself says that she could not eat anything except the host. I am not sure that her followers exadurated her disciplines, at least not by much."

Yes, she does say that herself. Perhaps God gave her the grace of not being emaciated.

 

Gerri, Irene, it says in chapter XI that she ate a small amount of nourishment. It's at the bottom of page 141 if we have the same pagination.

 

My Reply to Gerri:

Gerri, there are three mystical experiences in chapter eight. The exchange of hearts with Christ, the mystical death, and the partial stigmata. I had forgotten about the last two, but I always remember the exchange of hearts. Though she is not the only mystic that has reported exchanging hearts with Christ, I find that very striking. In some ways I find that more profound than a stigmata.

 

My Reply to Gerri:

Gerri wrote: "What amazes me is how much she achieved during her short life in such difficult circumstances. I've always known of her primarily because of her interactions with the Pope. Reading this book has op..."

Absolutely amazing. And for a woman in the middle ages! We haven't even gotten to her big accomplishments yet. There are certain people who can really pack a lot into their short lives.