Although I am working on a commentary on the findings of special counsel Robert Hur that found Joseph Robinette Biden, Jr., had willfully taken, retained, and used confidential material to which he was not entitled either as a United States Senator or Vice President of the United States of America to take, retain, or use, the time available to be now is not sufficient to complete the commentary for posting today.
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Today, Saturday, February 10, 2024, is the Feast of Saint Scholastica, the twin sister of Saint Benedict whose soul was as innocent as the Dove that announced to her brother had taken its flight into Heaven.
The Benedict Abbot of Solesmes from July 14, 1937, to January 30,1875, Dom Prosper Gueranger, provides us with a glowing hagiography of a soul that glowed so brightly with the love of the true God of Divine Revelation, the Most Holy Trinity:
The Sister of the Patriarch Saint Benedict comes to us today, sweetly inviting us to follow her to heaven. Apollonia the Martyr is succeeded by Scholastica the fervent daughter of the Cloister. Both of them are the Spouses of Jesus, both of them wear a crown, for both of them fought hard, and won the palm. Apollonia’s battle was with cruel persecutors, and in those hard times when one had to die to conquer; Scholastica’s combat was the lifelong struggle, whose only truce is the soldier’s dying breath. The Martyr and the Nun are sisters now in the Heart of Him they both so bravely loved.
God, in his infinite wisdom, gave to St. Benedict a faithful cooperatrix—a Sister of such angelic gentleness of character that she would be a sort of counterpoise to the Brother whose vocation as the Legislator of monastic life needed a certain dignity of grave and stern resolve. We continually meet with these contrasts in the lives of the Saints; and they show us that there is a link of which flesh and blood know nothing; a link which binds two souls together, gives them power, harmonizes their differences of character, and renders each complete. Thus it is in heaven with the several hierarchies of the Angels; a mutual love, which is founded on God himself, unites them together, and makes them live in the eternal happiness of the tenderest brotherly affection.
Scholastica’s earthly pilgrimage was not a short one; and yet it has left us but the history of the Dove, which told the Brother, by its flight to heaven, that his Sister had reached the eternal home before him. We have to thank St. Gregory the Great for even this much, which he tells us as a sequel to the holy dispute she had with Benedict, three days previous to her death. But how admirable is the portrait thus drawn in St. Gregory’s best style! We seem to understand the whole character of Scholastica: an earnest simplicity, and a child-like eagerness, for what was worth her desiring it; an affectionate and unshaken confidence in God; a winning persuasiveness, where there was opposition to God’s will, which, when it met such an opponent as Benedict, called on God to interpose, and gained its cause. The old poets tell us strange things about the swan, how sweetly it can sing when dying; how lovely must not have been the last notes of the Dove of the Benedictine Cloister, as she was soaring from earth to heaven!
But how came Scholastica, the humble retiring Nun, by that energy which could make her resist the will of her Brother, whom she revered as her master and guide? What was it told her that her prayer was not a rash one, and that what she asked for was a higher good than Benedict’s unflinching fidelity to the Rule he had written, and which it was his duty to teach by his own keeping it? Let us hear St. Gregory’s answer: “It is not to be wondered at that the Sister, who wished to prolong her Brother’s stay, should have prevailed over him; for, whereas St. John tells us that God is Charity, it happened by a most just judgment that she that had the stronger love, had the stronger power.
”Our Season is appropriate for the beautiful lesson taught us by St. Scholastica—fraternal charity. Her example should excite us to the love of our neighbor, that love which God bids us labor for, now that we are intent on giving Him our undivided service and our complete conversion. The Easter Solemnity we are preparing for is to unite us all in the grant Banquet, where we are all to feast on the one Divine Victim of Love. Let us have our nuptial garment ready; for He that invites us, insists on our having union of heart when we dwell in his House. (Dom Prosper Gueranger, O.S.B., The Liturgical Year, Feast of Saint Scholastica, February 10.)
The readings for Matins in today’s Divine Office contains Holy Mother Church’s official account of Saint Scholastica’s most pure life:
The worshipful Scholastica, the sister of our Father Benedict, was hallowed unto the Lord Almighty from a child. Her custom was to come to see her brother once every year. And when she came, the man of God went down unto her, not far from the gate, but, as it were, within the borders of his monastery. And there was a day when she came, as her custom was, and her worshipful brother went down to her, and his disciples with him. Then they passed the whole day together, praising God, and speaking one to the other of spiritual things. And when the night came, they brake bread together. And while they were yet at table, and conversed together on spiritual things, the hour was late. Then the holy woman his sister besought him, saying Leave me not, I pray thee, this night, but let us speak even until morning of the gladness of the eternal life. He answered her: What is it that thou sayest, my sister? I can by no means remain out of my cell. Now the firmament was so clear that there were no clouds in the sky. Then the holy nun, when she had heard the words of her brother, that he would not abide with her, clasped her hands on the table, and laid her face on her hands, and besought the Lord Almighty. And it came to pass that when she lifted up her head from the table, there were great thunderings and lightnings, and a flood of rain, insomuch that neither the worshipful Benedict nor the brethren that were with him could move as much as a foot over the threshold of the place where they sat.
Now when the holy woman laid her head in her hands upon the table, she wept bitterly, and as she wept, the clearness of the sky was turned to a tempest. As she prayed, immediately the flood followed. And the time was so, that she lifted up her head when it thundered, and when she had lifted up her head, the rain came. When the man of God saw that he could not return to his monastery, because of the lightnings, and thunderings, and the great rain, he was sorrowful and grieved, saying Almighty God forgive thee, my sister; what is this that thou hast done? She answered him Behold, I besought thee, and thou wouldest not hear; I besought my God, and He hath heard me; if, therefore, thou wilt, go forth, leave me alone, and go thy way to thy monastery. But he could not, and so he tarried in the same place, not willingly, but of necessity. And so it came to pass that they slept not all that night, but fed one another with discourse on spiritual things.
And when the morning was come, the worshipful woman arose, and went unto her own cell, and the man of God went back to his monastery. And, behold, after three days he was sitting in his cell, and he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and saw the soul of his sister, delivered from the body, fly to heaven in a bodily shape like a dove. Wherefore he rejoiced because of the glory that was revealed in her, and gave thanks to Almighty God in hymns and praises, and made known to the brethren that she was dead. He commanded them also to go and take up her body, and bring it to his monastery, and lay it in the grave which he had made ready for himself. Whereby it came to pass that they twain who had ever been of one mind in the Lord, even in death were not divided. (Matins, The Divine Office, Feast of Saint Scholastica, February 10.)
Dom Prosper Gueranger composed the following prayer to our Saint:
Dear Spouse of the Lamb! Innocent and simple Dove! How rapid was thy flight to thy Jesus, when called home from thine exile! Thy Brother’s eye followed thee for an instant, and then heaven received thee with a joyous welcome from the choirs of the Angels and Saints. Thou art now at the very source of that love which here filled thy soul, and gained thee everything thou asked of thy Divine Master. Drink of this fount of life to thy heart’s eternal content. Satiate the ambition taught thee by thy Brother in his Rule, when he says (Instrument 46) that we must “desire Heaven with all the might of our spirit.” Feed on that sovereign Beauty, who himself feeds, as he tells us, among the lilies.
But forget not this lower world, which was to thee what it is to us—a place of trial, for winning heavenly honors. During thy sojourn here, thou was the Dove in the clefts of the rock; as the Canticle describes a soul like thine own; there was nothing on this earth which tempted thee to spread thy wings in its pursuit, there was nothing worthy of thy giving it the treasure of the love which God had put in thy heart. Timid before men and simple as innocence ever is, thou knewest not that thou hadst wounded the Heart of the Spouse. Thy prayers were made to him with all the humility and confidence of a soul that had never been disloyal; and he granted thee thy petitions with the promptness of tender love: so that thy Brother—the venerable Saint—he who was accustomed to see nature obedient to his command—yes, even Benedict was overcome by thee in that contest wherein thy simplicity was more penetrating than his profound wisdom.
And who was it, O Scholastica, that gave thee this sublime knowledge, and made thee, on that day of thy last visit, wiser than the great Patriarch, who was raised up in the Church to be the living rule of them that are called to Perfection? It was the same God who chose Benedict to be one of the pillars of the Religious State; but who wished to show that a holy and pure and tender charity is dearer to him than the most scrupulous fidelity to rules, which are only made for leading men to what thou hadst already attained. Benedict, himself such a lover of God, knew all this; the subject so dear to thy heart was renewed, and Brother and Sister were soon lost in the contemplation of that Infinite Beauty, who had just given such a proof that he would have you neglect all else. Thou wast ripe for heaven, O Scholastica! Creatures could teach thee no more love of thy Creator; he would take thee to himself. A few short hours more, and the Divine Spouse would speak to thee those words of the ineffable Canticle, which the Holy Spirit seems to have dictated for a soul like thine: Arise, make haste, my Love, my Dove, my beautiful one, and come! Show me thy face; let thy voice sound in mine ears; for thy voice is sweet, and comely is thy face. (Dom Prosper Gueranger, O.S.B., The Liturgical Year, Feast of Saint Scholastica, February 10.)
Our Lady of the Rosary, pray for us.
Saint Scholastica, pray for us.
