Monday Motivation: Father Jacques Philippe

 "The person God loves with the tenderness of a Father, the person he wants to touch and to transform with his love, is not the person we've have liked to be or ought to be. It's the person we are. God doesn't love 'ideal persons' or 'virtual beings.' He loves actual, real people. He is not interested in saintly figures in stained glass windows but in us sinners." - Father Jacques Philippe, Interior Freedom

Colors of the Wind

It was the peak of autumn last week; the leaves were hanging on and showing off their colors. I was reminded of something Pope Francis said during his trip to Canada earlier in the year:

“Among its many beauties, I think of the immense and spectacular maple forests that make the Canadian countryside uniquely colorful and variegated. I would like to take as my starting point the symbol par excellence of these lands, the maple leaf, which, starting from the seal of Québec, rapidly spread to become the emblem that appears on the national flag.

“That development took place in relatively recent times, but the maple trees preserve the memory of many past generations, going back well before the colonists arrived on Canadian soil. The native peoples extracted maple sap, with which they concocted wholesome and healthy syrups. This makes us think of their industriousness and their constant concern to protect the land and the environment, in fidelity to a harmonious vision of creation as an open book that teaches human beings to love the Creator and to live in symbiosis with other living creatures. We can learn much from this ability to listen attentively to God, to persons and to nature….

“The large size of the maple leaves, which absorb polluted air and in turn give out oxygen, invite us to marvel at the beauty of creation and to appreciate the wholesome values present in the indigenous cultures. They can inspire us all, and help to heal harmful tendencies to exploitation. Exploiting creation, relationships, time and basing human activity solely on what proves useful and profitable….”

In his reflection on the maple leaf, a simple leaf and yet also a symbol of an entire country, he noted how connected respect for nature and respect for human rights are. We are part of nature, even though we try to isolate and exploit it. We try to deny our connection to the earth, and we try to deny our connection to our brothers and sisters who are different from us. Loving God means loving his creation, from stewardship of the land to harmony with fellow humans.

Through this lens, he apologized for the way indigenous Canadians have been treated in the (not so long ago) past:

“I think above all of the policies of assimilation and enfranchisement, also involving the residential school system, which harmed many indigenous families by undermining their language, culture and worldview. In that deplorable system, promoted by the governmental authorities of the time, which separated many children from their families, different local Catholic institutions had a part. For this reason, I express my deep shame and sorrow, and, together with the bishops of this country, I renew my request for forgiveness for the wrong done by so many Christians to the indigenous peoples. It is tragic when some believers, as happened in that period of history, conform themselves to the conventions of the world rather than to the Gospel.”

He stressed the importance of seeing every culture, every group, every individual as worthy, part of our ecosystem:

“ …the poor, migrants, the elderly, the sick, the unborn… They are the forgotten ones in “affluent societies”; they are the ones who, amid general indifference, are cast aside like dry leaves to be burnt. 

“Instead, the rich multicolored foliage of the maple tree reminds us of the importance of the whole, the importance of developing human communities that are not blandly uniform, but truly open and inclusive. And just as every leaf is fundamental for the luxuriant foliage of the branches, so each family, as the essential cell of society, is to be given its due, because ‘the future of humanity passes through the family’”

It was a good speech, and, while there is still so much work and healing to do regarding the past actions against indigenous peoples, I hope it gave some comfort and hope.

As the leaves change color and fall, they don’t seem dead; rather nature feels alive in their vibrant colors and rustling noise and the crisp, clean chill in the air. There is change, movement. Can we slow down and appreciate it? Can we respect nature’s cycle, instead of rushing to turn on heaters and rake away leaves and complain about cold? Can we just let nature be, instead of exploiting and building on top of it?

And can we see the connection between caring for the environment and caring for our neighbors? It is the poorest and least powerful who are suffering from climate change the most. We need their voices in discussions about policies to reduce harm. We need to support them in their struggles. We need to support anyone struggling. It takes a mindset that the human in front of me and the land beneath me is more important than my level of comfort or potential profits.

“Through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.” -Revelation 22:2   

St. Wiborada

St. Wiborada was born in the late ninth century to Swabian nobility in what is now Klingna, Switzerland. The family was faithful and took care of the poor and sick. After a pilgrimage to Rome, Wiborada’s brother Hatto decided to become a Benedictine monk at the Abbey of St. Gall. After their parents died, Wiborada joined him, becoming a Benedictine nun, also at St. Gall.

She learned Latin, and one of her chores was binding the books in the monastery library. While there, she was charged with an infraction and subjected to a trial by fire. She was exonerated, but the ordeal led her to leave St. Gall and seek a life of solitude.

In 887, the bishop of Konstanz arranged for her to become an anchorite attached to St. George Church near the monastery. She lived there for four years and then in 891 moved to a cell attached to St. Magnus of Fussen Church nearby.

Wiborada became known for her gift of prophecy, and people would come seek her advice. In 925, she predicted a Hungarian invasion of the region. The priests at St. Magnus and the Benedictines at St. Gall heeded her vision and hid the books and wine before escaping to nearby caves. Wiborada was urged by her abbot to take refuge, but she chose to remain in her cell. 

On May 1, 926, the Magyars indeed invaded. They burned the church and broke the roof into Wiborada’s cell. An invader took a shepherd’s ax and cut her skull. She died the next day. Rachildis, a fellow anchorite and follow of Wiborada, had also stayed. She survived the attack and testified. Wiborada was declared a martyr.

St. Wiborada’s feast day is May 2. In Switzerland and Germany, she is the patron of libraries and librarians.