Part II
The Curé of Ars in His Homilies
Those who have heard M. Vianney only in his catechisms do but half know him. They know the infused light, the supernatural grace, the solidity, transparency, depth, and originality of his discourses; but they do not know their life, their fire, and their unction. It was in his Sunday homilies that the missionary, the apostolic man, the oracle, the inspired prophet, the saint consumed by zeal for the salvation of souls, showed himself under a rare and inimitable aspect, in all the power and fascination of his individual character. They were distinguished by a mixture of loftiness and tenderness, of lively and ardent faith, of impetuous zeal, which gave the preacher such power and unction as to produce the strongest emotions in his hearers. Hence those marvellous effects that have been so often observed at Ars; that change of heart, that submission of the will, those tears, that deep emotion, which began before the pulpit, and was completed in the secret intercourse of the confessional.
The eloquence of his voice was enhanced by the eloquence of his personal appearance. His broad forehead, with its aureola of white hair, his bold profile, the beatific expression of the holy man’s countenance, and, above all, the ever-varying fire of his glance, gave him a sort of supernatural fascination, before which we have often seen the proudest spirits bend, and scepticism declare itself conquered.
The style which he adopted in his homilies interested, captivated, and instructed his hearers, whoever they might be. Yet we must own that the eloquence of the holy curé was destitute of all those extraneous ornaments which usually contribute so much to the success of a preacher. And this is another proof of the supernatural power and divine charms of the Gospel, which, when preached in all its simplicity, triumphs no less over the poverty of him who announces it, than over the various and often exaggerated requirements of those who listen to it.
The love of our Lord is the principle of all virtues. Like material fire, this heavenly fire warms and purifies the soul. Now, the surest way of kindling this fire in the heart of the faithful is to explain to them the Gospel—that book of love—in every line of which the Saviour shows Himself in His gentleness, His patience, His humility; always the Consoler and the Friend of man, speaking to him only of love, and persuading him to devote himself entirely to Him, by returning Him love for love.
We give here but incomplete extracts, which have at least the merit of fidelity; they reproduce the thoughts, and sometimes the expression and figure of them, and they will suffice to give an idea of this style of preaching.
On the Feast of the Presentation, M. Vianney said:
“Have you meditated on the love which consumed the heart of the old man Simeon during his ecstasy? for surely he was in ecstasy when he held the Infant Jesus in his arms! He had asked the good God to let him see the Saviour of Israel, and God had promised that he should. He passed fifty years in this expectation, longing for this moment with all his heart, consumed by desire. When Mary and Joseph entered the Temple, God said to him, ‘Here He is!’ … Then, taking in his arms and pressing to his heart the Infant Jesus, who was burning and consuming that heart, the good old man cried, ‘Now, O Lord, let me die!’ … Then he gave Jesus back to His Mother; he could keep Him but for a moment. But we, my brethren, are we not much happier than Simeon? We can keep Him always with us, if we will. … He comes not only into our arms, but into our hearts.”
“O man, how happy thou art, but how little thou knowest thy happiness! If thou didst comprehend it, thou couldst not live. … Oh! no; certainly thou couldst not live!” (Here tears choked the voice of the holy curé.) “Thou wouldst die of love. … This God gives Himself to thee. … Thou canst carry Him away, if thou wilt—where thou wilt. … He is now one with thee! …”
The rest of the sermon was nothing but a series of exclamations, interrupted by tears and sobs. It often happened that the holy man was obliged to stop, overcome by his emotion. Sometimes his discourse was nothing but a cry, a sublime cry, of love, of joy, or of grief. We remember that, when he was explaining the Gospel of the Second Sunday in Lent, the ecstasy of the Apostles on Mount Thabor brought to his mind the happiness of the soul that is called to enjoy the clear vision of the Sacred Humanity of our Lord in heaven; and he exclaimed, transported out of himself, “We shall see Him! we shall see Him! … O my brethren! have you ever thought of this? We shall see God! we shall see Him, in good earnest! we shall see Him as He is, … face to face!” And for a quarter of an hour he ceased not to weep, and to repeat, “We shall see Him! we shall see Him!”
Another time, he had taken for the subject of his instruction the Last Judgment; and suddenly stopping at the words of the terrible sentence, “Depart from me, you cursed!” he burst out into tears, sighs, and sobs, and could only repeat, “Cursed of God! Oh, what a horrible misfortune! Do you understand, my children? cursed of God, who can only bless! cursed of God, who is all love! cursed of God, who is goodness itself! cursed of God!”
The audience was overwhelmed.
His discourses were sometimes coloured by contemporary events, and reflected by turns the joy and the sadness of his soul.
He said, in 1849:
“It seems that in the absence of His Vicar, our Lord comes Himself upon the earth; He reassumes His Humanity, to show Himself to men. For you have heard of the new miracle which has lately taken place at Rome. They had exposed the veil with which St. Veronica wiped the holy Face of our Lord, but which was almost effaced by time. While the Cardinals were kneeling before this divine Image, all the holy Face was seen to reappear, sad, and shedding tears. There are some who will not believe it; can a blind man distinguish colours? By this apparition and these tears, our Lord said to the Cardinals, ‘Where is My Son, your Father? He has been driven away; where is He?’ As Mary said to St. Peter after the death of Jesus, ‘Where is your Father and my Son? I see Him no longer.’ Our Lord wept for His Vicar, like a father who has lost his son, like a husband who has lost his spouse. He worked this miracle on behalf of the Pope. How holy he must be! Therefore, how pleasing to God must be the alms of those who give to the Pope! You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have the opportunity of giving to the Holy Father. You will have a share in his holy prayers. Our Lord has always shown deference to His Vicar; he is the keeper of all His treasures. So we can do nothing more pleasing to God than to pray for him till he has returned to his States. This is what Jesus asks of us by His tears.”
In 1830, having learnt that crosses had been thrown down in some parts of France, “They will do it in vain!” cried he, in the middle of his catechism, with an energy and indignation which made a strong impression on his hearers; “they will do it in vain! The Cross is stronger than they; they will not always overthrow it. When our Lord shall appear on the clouds of heaven, they will not snatch it out of His hands!”
Three years after, God took His reprisals. The cholera had visited Marseilles and Paris, and threatened Lyons. The holy Curé began his instruction with these serious words: “My brethren, God is going to sweep out the world!” This simple sentence, and the tone of voice in which it was spoken, made such an impression upon an artist who heard it, that it was the beginning of his conversion.
