Tag: America’s Saints

The Mohawk village of Ossernenon was the site of the gruesome and torturous martyrdom of St. Isaac Jogues and his companions just a decade before. But in 1656, the village near present-day Auriesville, New York, brought a further and strikingly different significance to the story of American Catholicism — the birthplace of the first Native American canonized saint. Known as the Lily of the Mohawks, St. Kateri Tekakwitha (1656 – 1680) embraced a countercultural Gospel wholeheartedly, committing herself entirely to Christ.

Kateri’s Christian journey started at birth. She was the daughter of a Mohawk-captured Christian Algonquin woman who married a Mohawk war chief. Her mother planted the seeds of Christian faith in her soul at an early age. These seeds would eventually bloom into a beautiful lily of purity and holiness, as her epitaph is translated, “the fairest flower that ever bloomed among red men.”

A smallpox outbreak killed her parents when Kateri was a toddler, and she was taken in by an aunt and uncle who raised her in a nearby village. Kateri’s face was scarred, and her eyesight was damaged due to the disease. Her talents in basket weaving, gathering crops, working with animal skins and cooking made her a more than suitable candidate for marriage. Nonetheless, attempts at arranged marriage were resisted by Kateri. Her heart desired God alone.

Her family became concerned about Kateri’s disinterest with marriage. She again resisted marriage to a young man they chose, this time hiding in a nearby field. Her family hoped Kateri, who was punished with ridicule and hard labor, would find marriage an easier life. When at home due to an injury, while other women in the village were harvesting, Kateri first encountered Jesuit missionaries. After studying the Faith with them, Kateri was baptized by Father Jacques de Lamberville on Easter Sunday in 1676, near present-day Fonda, New York. She was then named Kateri, a form of Catherine typically given to converts, in honor of the great virgin-saint from Siena.

Kateri’s public faith caused a great deal of persecution among the Mohawks and within her family. After six months of mockery and accusations of magic, she knew she needed to move on. Father de Lamberville arranged for Kateri to relocate to a village more conducive to Christian Mohawks in 1677 — the Jesuit mission of Kahnawake near present-day Montreal. Kateri’s virtuous reputation grew quickly, as seen when Father de Lamberville wrote of her to the priest in charge at Kahnawake, “You will soon know what a treasure we have sent you. Guard it well then! May it profit in your hands, for the glory of God and the salvation of a soul that certainly is very dear to him.”

In Kahnawake, Kateri found an environment in which she could enter more deeply into union with Christ. She took upon herself a variety of bodily penances, including strict fasting and mortifications. Eventually it became clear why she resisted marriage so long. Kateri consecrated her virginity to Christ in 1679, saying, “I have consecrated myself entirely to Jesus, son of Mary, I have chosen him for husband and he alone will take me for wife.”

After the effects of her penances weakened her health, Kateri’s last days were spent in great suffering. St. Kateri Tekakwitha died at age 24 on April 17, 1680, uttering the last words, “Jesus, I love you!” Afterward, witnesses saw the scars she bore since childhood miraculously begin to disappear.

Kateri inspires those who embrace a countercultural Gospel. Pope Benedict XVI emphasized this at her 2012 canonization, saying, “Kateri impresses us by the action of grace in her life in spite of the absence of external help and by the courage of her vocation, so unusual in her culture. In her, faith and culture enrich each other! May her example help us to live where we are, loving Jesus without denying who we are.”

St. Kateri Tekakwitha is a saint for those persecuted for piety, and her feast day is July 14.

Michael Heinlein is editor of Simply Catholic. Follow him on Twitter @HeinleinMichael. 

Miguel Serra (1713-1784) was born off the Spanish coast on the island of Mallorca, baptized on the day of his birth in 1713 because his two older siblings hadn’t survived childhood. When he was 15 years old, Miguel decided to begin priestly studies and wanted to become a Franciscan. He wasn’t accepted at first because of his age and sickly nature, but his second try was successful and he embarked on a vocation that would last more than half a century.

The young Franciscan excelled in the spiritual practices of the order by his first vows in 1731 — taking the name Junipero after a companion of St. Francis himself. Missionary zeal got into his blood early when he read about the brave South American missionary St. Francis Solanus, who had been recently canonized. Little did St. Junipero Serra know that he would go on to evangelize western North America and become the first canonized American saint of Hispanic origin.

Before turning 30, Serra quickly became known for his intellectual gifts and was appointed a philosophy professor. His success in religious life and the academy did not keep Serra from following his heart’s truest calling, and he asked his superior for permission to travel to North America to evangelize the natives in 1748. Abandoning his promising academic career, Serra set out from Mallorca for the first and last time.

Serra and his brother friars arrived in New Spain in December 1749 after a few weeks in Puerto Rico. They were destined for Mexico City — capital of the future Mexico — travelling nearly 275 miles by foot to get there, as Franciscans didn’t allow travel by horseback. During the journey, an insect bite caused a leg infection that dogged Serra until he died.

In Mexico City, Serra didn’t settle for long into the College of San Fernando, a Franciscan school for training New World missionaries, before he volunteered to oversee different missions. Responding generously and lovingly to the needs of the poor and vulnerable in his charge, Serra began to garner a reputation as an advocate for the natives in the face of the government of New Spain. Serra became presidente of the missions in California after King Charles III expelled the Jesuits from all Spanish territories. Starting in 1769, Serra was responsible for building a network of missions in modern-day California that supported the natives in developing a variety of skills, but their main purpose was to spread the Gospel.

He established his headquarters midway up the California coast at Mission San Carlos Borromeo in Carmel, and began receiving natives into the Church. Conversion was not demanded of them, but ample preparation was required if they chose to convert.

An outspoken defender of the natives’ human rights, Serra fearlessly called out the government for their widespread physical and sexual abuse and denounced the death penalty. As the tensions increased, Serra decided to make a trip to Mexico City to promote a mission that desired salvation of souls over domination and conquest. During his visit with the king’s viceroy of New Spain, Serra presented rules that served as the basis for the first major laws of California. Serra returned to California in 1774.

The political battles wore on. Serra continued establishing missions and served as minister of the Sacrament of Confirmation throughout the missions. At 70, he was worn out from a life spent in service to the Gospel. On Aug. 28, 1784, Serra died a happy death at the Carmel Mission.

St. Junipero Serra’s missionary zeal leaves a lasting and relevant example for all Catholics. At his canonization, Pope Francis described Serra as the personification of “a Church which goes forth,” “who testified to the joy of the Gospel in these lands” under the motto “Keep moving forward.” Francis concluded his canonization homily by stirring us out of our complacency so that with Serra we may “be able to say: Forward! Let’s keep moving forward!”

His feast day is July 1.

Michael R. Heinlein is editor of Simply Catholic. Follow him on Twitter @HeinleinMichael.

Jozef De Veuster (1840-1889) was once a gregarious boy who loved life — even a skating champion near his Tremelo, Belgium, hometown. Brought up in a faithful family, he chose to follow in the footsteps of his older brother and entered religious life with the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary in 1859. Better known by his religious name, Damien, this saint had the heart of a missionary and was known to pray each day to become one. In 1863, Damien volunteered for Hawaiian missions in place of his sickly priest-brother who was supposed to go. Soon, his zeal for souls earned St. Damien De Veuster the title “apostle to the lepers,” and ultimately led to his canonization by Pope Benedict XVI in 2009.

Damien arrived in Honolulu in 1864 and was ordained a priest that May. He spent most of the next decade joyously pastoring his flock. Things changed, though, when many islanders — including many from Damien’s own flock — contracted leprosy. Then thought incurable, the ancient disease of leprosy came in a few different forms, the most widespread of which was an ongoing decay of the living human body. The lepers were taken from their homes and assigned as outcasts on the island of Molokai, never seen again by their families. A slow painful death awaited them.

Hawaiian Bishop Louis Maigret strongly desired priests to minister on the island and asked for volunteers since he knew the assignment was equivalent to a death sentence. Damien joyfully and heroically offered himself, leaving for Molokai on May 10, 1873. Since he couldn’t live with the lepers for fear of infection, Damien found shelter under the indigenous pandanus tree for quite a while after his arrival.

For 16 years, Damien ministered as a loving father among those doomed to death. For them, he celebrated the sacraments, gave structure to the community, erected housing facilities and bandaged wounds. And the lepers didn’t just suffer physically. Totally shut off from the world, they awaited their fate, and most saw no point in their suffering. Knowing they came to Molokai to die, the lepers often gave into lewd and sinful behavior. Damien challenged them to be better.

Damien’s primary role was to lead the lepers closer to Christ, and that required giving them hope. In what could be an easily overlooked aspect of his work on Molokai, Damien gave a hopeful new perspective to the “living dead” by digging graves so the dead of Molokai would have a dignified burial. Damien showed the lepers that their bodies deserved dignity, even in death. Their suffering was transformed to have purpose, and this led them along the path of hope in eternal life. By the time Damien died, the majority of the island was Catholic.

In 1888, Damien was joined in his ministry to the lepers by St. Marianne Cope and other Sisters of St. Francis from Syracuse, New York. Eventually canonized herself, Cope cared for Damien when he became a victim of leprosy. He died at age 49 on April 15, 1889, already an internationally acclaimed humanitarian. Originally buried under the tree where he slept his first nights on Molokai, his remains were moved to his homeland in 1936 at the request of the Belgian king.

Damien passed up many opportunities to leave Molokai, ever zealous to win souls for Christ. He wrote to his brother: “People pity me and think me unfortunate, but I think of myself as the happiest of missionaries.” Damien’s sacrifice was an embodiment of Christ’s, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (Jn 15:13). Of this, Pope St. John Paul II remarked at Damien’s 1995 beatification, “What could he have offered the other lepers, who were condemned to a slow death, if not his own faith and this truth that Christ is Lord and that God is love? He became a leper among the lepers; he became a leper for the lepers. He suffered and died like them, believing that he would rise again in Christ, for Christ is the Lord!”

His feast day is May 10.

Michael R. Heinlein is editor of Simply Catholic.

Imagine the suffering of a 29-year-old American widow returning home from Italy, having just buried her husband. Underneath the pain, she couldn’t have guessed this, amazingly, was an integral part of God’s plan. Unknown to her, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton was on the path to becoming the first canonized saint born on American soil.

The daughter of a physician, born in New York City in 1774, 3-year-old Elizabeth was acquainted with suffering early with her mother’s death. She married a wealthy importer, William Seton, in 1794, and together they had five children. Stress from the bankruptcy of his business in 1802 worsened William Seton’s existing tuberculosis, and doctors prescribed the Italian climate. Elizabeth didn’t leave his side until his death in an Italian quarantine two days after Christmas in 1803. The couple originally planned to stay with his business partners in Italy, and the young widow enjoyed their hospitality until she could return to America. The Filicchi family home had a private chapel, and there Elizabeth had her first experience of Catholicism. Her life was forever changed.

Fascinated by the Church’s liturgy and the Real Presence, the committed Protestant who went to Italy would soon return to America with a Catholic heart.

Antonio Filicchi helped Seton informally begin her study of the Faith on the voyage to New York.

Seton’s conversion to Catholicism brought about many hardships. Hostility from her family was just the beginning of her sufferings in an anti-Catholic New York City. Seton made the Profession of Faith and received her first holy Communion in March 1805 at St. Peter’s Church on Barclay Street, the city’s oldest parish. As a victim of prejudice, Seton had trouble finding stable work to provide for her family, and she wrestled about what to do.

God gave the answer when Seton was invited to Maryland by Sulpician Father William DuBourg, who interestingly, as bishop of the Louisiana Territory, worked with St. Rose Philippine Duchesne. In the Catholic-friendly state of Maryland, Seton would establish a school and start a religious order. First teaching in Baltimore for a year, Seton pronounced religious vows in 1809 in the presence America’s first bishop, John Carroll. He gave the foundress of the first religious order established in the United States the title “Mother Seton.” The Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph’s lived the Rule of St. Vincent de Paul’s Daughters of Charity with a few alterations from Carroll to provide for a mother with children to enter the new order.

Establishing a free school for poor girls near Emmitsburg, Maryland, proved to be a daunting, but not impossible task for Mother Seton. With guidance and assistance from Sulpician Father Jean Dubois — the future bishop of New York who ordained St. John Neumann — Seton and her sisters opened St. Joseph’s Free School in 1810, and for this she is remembered as the mother of Catholic education in the United States.

Seton’s trust in God was undying, although it was tested in her final years on the rough Maryland frontier, especially when two daughters died of tuberculosis by 1816. Persevering in the Faith to the end, Seton exhorted those near her deathbed, “Be children of the Church.” She died of tuberculosis at the age of 46 on Jan. 4, 1821. Seton’s spiritual director, Sulpician Father Simon Bruté, himself a candidate for sainthood, memorialized her saying, “O, such a mother! Such faith and love! Such a true spirit of prayer, of true humility, of true self-denial in all, of true charity to all!”

Seton’s life as a loving wife and mother, a faithful teacher and a holy consecrated woman leaves a lasting example. Blessed Pope Paul VI dispensed with the then-necessary fourth miracle required for sainthood and canonized her in the Holy Year of 1975, exhorting Americans, “Rejoice for your glorious daughter. Be proud of her. And know how to preserve her fruitful heritage.”

Her feast day is January 4.

Michael Heinlein is editor of Simply Catholic.

After nearly 50 religious orders refused Hawaiian King Kalakaua’s invitation to care for the victims of leprosy in his kingdom, St. Marianne Cope said “yes.” The Mother Provincial of the Sisters of St. Francis in Syracuse, New York, responded wholeheartedly to the request, saying, “I am hungry for the work, and I wish with all my heart to be one of the chosen ones, whose privilege it will be to sacrifice themselves for the salvation of the souls of the poor Islanders. … I am not afraid of any disease, hence, it would be my greatest delight even to minister to the abandoned ‘lepers.’”

The family of Barbara Koob — St. Marianne’s birth name — emigrated from Germany for America the year after her birth in 1838, and the immigrant family’s name became Cope. Although she felt called to religious life, Cope began factory work after eighth grade to help her family’s finances when her father became ill. When her father died in 1862, Cope could finally profess vows with the Franciscan Sisters in Syracuse. The newly named Sister Marianne soon began service in German immigrant schools. Her leadership skills were apparent early on, which led her to establishing hospitals in central New York State and a tenure as administrator of St. Joseph Hospital in Syracuse. Cope’s intelligence and interpersonal abilities were apparent, and all who knew her were aware that God was her sole inspiration. She became provincial in 1877.

Already secure in her calling, God called Cope to an even more sacrificial life when she responded favorably to King Kalakaua’s request. It might seem astounding that Cope responded with such ease to something she never imagined in her ministry. However, it’s easily understandable when one is more acquainted with her willingness to serve the Lord. At her beatification in 2005, Cardinal José Saraiva Martins recalled Cope’s dependence on God’s providence, saying, “She left everything and abandoned herself completely to the will of God, to the call of the Church and to the demands of her new brothers and sisters. She put her own health and life at risk.”

Cope and six Franciscan sisters arrived in Hawaii in 1883 and operated hospitals and schools among the leper community. Initially overseeing a hospital for the victims of the disease in Oahu, she later established a home to care for children of leper victims. There, Cope and her sisters cared for the children with a mother’s love. Known for her undying optimism and trust in God’s providence, Cope taught her sisters about their role among the lepers, saying they were “to make life as pleasant and as comfortable as possible for those of our fellow creatures whom God has chosen to afflict with this terrible disease.”

Cope carried on her motherly love of the lepers when she opened a home for women and girls on the island of Molokai. This was a further sacrifice because she knew going to the leper’s island-prison meant essentially she was isolated from the outside world forever. While on Molokai, she developed a close relationship with St. Jozef Damien De Veuster after he was diagnosed with leprosy. Cope lovingly took care of this “apostle to the lepers” in his final days and carried on much of his work among the men’s section of the leper colony after his 1889 death. In 1895, she secured religious brothers to staff it.

Cope led the sisters in the Hawaiian missions until her health began to decline after a life of tireless work as an embodiment of the Good Samaritan. Miraculously, however, she never suffered from leprosy. An 80-year-old Cope died on Molokai on Aug. 9, 1918, originally buried on the island. Never returning to her Syracuse motherhouse in her lifetime, Cope’s relics arrived in Syracuse in 2005 and stayed there until enshrinement in the Honolulu cathedral in 2014. Cope was canonized in 2012 by Pope Benedict XVI, who said she, “showed the highest love, courage and enthusiasm.”

Her feast day is Jan. 23.

Michael Heinlein is editor of Simply Catholic.