ST. PHILIP NERI

New Zealand Tablet, 20 May 1915, Page 11

ST. PHILIP NERI

(By the Rev. J. Kelly, Ph.D.)

The sixteenth century began a new era for the Church. But ere the great forces, which brought about the most marvellous revival in her history, became effective, there were yet years of turmoil and confusion before her. Julius 11. pulled down St. Peter’s in 1505. A new Basilica was to be erected on the hallowed site; and for this end vast revenues must be available. In theory, the method of raising them was unimpeachable; in practice, it was liable to abuse. 1 When indulgences were extended, multiplied, and converted into money transactions,’ says Pastor, ‘ it was obvious, taking into account the covetousness of the age, that the greatest abuses should prevail.’ In Germany the Church was in a sad condition. Among the lower and middle classes there was, as there always is, a deep religious spirit: on the other hand the high-born prelates were men of the world, usually wealthy, and often dissolute. The religious Orders had ceased to bo a power for good. England and France were turbulent, and Rome itself enervated and steeped in political intrigue. Then, like a bolt from the gathering clouds, came the rebellious voice of the monk, Martin Luther. He burnt Leo X.’s Bull condemning him ; he rejected the teaching of the Church, and evolved a religion which was coherent in little beyond that it was a defiance of Rome. In June, 1520, Luther was excommunicated. The same year he launched forth his tracts against Rome brutal outpourings of German that struck like blows of a sledge-hammer at men’s logic and men’s reason, firebrands flung in the vulgar tongue among the German people, kindling revolt and rebellion. Into the vernacular, too, he translated the New Testament, ‘ a rival to the Vulgate,’ says Barry, ‘ and hung out as the national flag of defiance.’ Leo X. died and was succeeded by Adrian VI., who nobly, if not effectively, heralded the coming revival. Julius dei Medici, as Clement VII., succeeded Adrian. His reign was a re-action, and the dawn still lingered. He had to deal with a turbulent English Bluebeard King, and the year of his death marks the loss of England. On October 13 of that year, 1534, Paul 111. was elected, and with him came the great Catholic revival. Out of the old Catholic land of Biscay there came to him with the constitutions of his proposed new Order Ignatius of Loyola. The Pope, on reading the draft, exclaimed; ‘The finger of God is herb!’ South, the spirit of reform was already active, owing to the influence of men like Mendoza, Ximenes, and St. Thomas of Villanova. The Spanish clergy were first in the field as well in learning as in sanctity; and, providentially,. Spain ruled then not only in Germany and the Netherlands, but also in the new country beyond the Atlantic. „ , . .. , In Ignatius the movement found its leader; and speedily the whole -spirit of the Catholic world was

quickened to new-life and vigor. Faith was kindled, Catholic principles and ; ideals put in the ; ' forefront of 1 men's minds, the mystic body of the Church felt its vitality and manhood, and was ready for the combat against evil within and without. War was carried into the enemies' camp when the Jesuits; established them- $ : selves at Ingolstadt. A young German; Jesuit, who was also a saint, Peter Canisius, did marvellous work by his preaching and his zeal among his fellow-country-men. At his persuasion Archbishop' von Wied,. of Cologne, was deposed, and every prelate like him saw that reform was imperative. ' ' . In Rome Francis Borgia founded the Roman College, which became like a sun ' radiating light and warmth; there, too, he enlarged and perfected the German College till it grew to be what it is to-day, a cradle of devoted priests trained in strict discipline and, as a body, unrivalled for learning and devotion. Rome was undergoing a wonderful change; it was now 'a meeting place of saints as it had formerly been of poets and men of letters, and, as was fitting, the Vatican was the heart of the movement. Ignatius, Francis, and Charles Borromeo were all.captains in the new army of Christ, redoubtable champions flashing along the battle-front. But the man who moved Rome, irresistibly if gently, attracting rather than compelling, and who gave to the new life all its sweetness and graciousness, was Philip Neri. St. Bernard reminds us that God's Providence never calls a man to any great work without endowing him with special characteristics for its fulfilment. And side by side with the soldier-like Loyola and the stern Borromeo, reformers of a harsher and more strenuous type, we have the beautiful Florentine saint, who became the second Apostle of Rome, whose peculiar mission it was to win hearts to Christ by his own winning example, and to reveal in the mirror of his. own life the peace and happiness of true followers of the Crucified. Nobody knew better than Philip where the root of the evil lay ; silently and imperceptibly and humbly he diffused the love of God amongst all classes of men in the City of the Seven Hills. Tn the mystery of his own interior life there was' a suavity and a beauty transparent in his countenance. Joyousness, ardent love, and a heavenly gentleness were the dominant notes in the harmony of his character. In 1515, Philip Neri was born in Florence. The same year saw the birth of Theresa in Avila. That year, too, witnessed the triumphal entry of Leo X. into the lovely city by the Arno. In the baptismal register of the oratory of St. John the Baptist, we read the following entry: — Filippo e llomolo di Ser Francesco di Filippo da Castel Franco, popolo San Pier Gattolini, nato adi 21 luglio, 1515, a ore 6 e ildi 12 marzo 1621. In that incomparable baptistery and under the shadow of Giotto's belfry and Brunelleschi's dome the infant son of Francesco and Lucrezia Neri was baptised on the morning after his birth, receiving the two names, Philip and Romolo. His parents were noble though poor. They had many other children, but Philip, even in his childhood's years, already drew the hearts of all to him and was their favorite child. Love early claimed him, the love of God and of man, which pervaded his whole life. A picture of him in his tenth year by Baroccio shows us a boy in whose young face grace and modesty shine out through candid blue eyes. The home of the Neri family was a sanctuary of quiet and holiness, and its influence was as soft rains and gentle winds in the growing powers of Philip's soul. No city in the world could offer such opportunities for education as Florence in those years. Philip's great mental powers were developed under the most favorable conditions, and the environment in which he grew up nurtured in him a love of art and poetry which remained a potent factor in his life. To his parents his early religious training was due, but he tells us himself that he owed much to the monks of San. Marco ; and it was his delight to haunt the cloisters that held St. Antonius and Fra Angelico. In Florence, until his eighteenth year, Philip grew in age and grace, and every year saw the dawn growing into perfection. Then, in sorrow, or he would not have been the Philip

we know who loved ;'Florence and : "the Florentines and his own family, he left his native city to return no more. .'.',' In San Germano, between Rome and Naples, there dwelt one Romolo Neri, a cousin of Philip's, a rich, childless merchant. He asked to have Philip sent to him, promising to make him his heir. Thither then the Florentine lad wended his way, riding alone by easy stages the three hundred and fifty miles be'tween Florence and San Germano. In this new home Philip was happy. The old man loved the boy as if he were his own son, and found in him a clever helper and an amiable companion. The good parents who watched over, his youth, the holy cloisters of San Marco, the beautiful Florence of which Christ was the only King ever acknowledged, were far away now. But in the new setting of his life Philip found equally stronginfluences to help the development of his soul. . Over against San Germano the walls of Monte Cassino stood out against the blue sky. There daily before his eyes was the greatest and oldest of monasteries, crowning the hill, from the summit of which the incense of prayer had ascended before the White Throne, unbroken for centuries. St. Philip has an altar in Monte Cassino now ; and Monte Cassino helped then to make Philip a saint. Farther away, high above the uprisings of the sea beyond Gaeta, was the sanctuary of the Crucified, a hallowed shrine which drew Philip to it like a magnet. The young Florentine was a poet as well as a saint. And anyone who knows the hills and valleys around Monte Cassino can dimly realise how the indescribable charm of the place must have wrought on Philip's imagination, and how near he came to God amid these wild crags and waving woods that stretched away towards the deep blue line of the Midland Sea. Blessed are the poor in spirit! The words of the Beatitude impressed themselves in his heart at San Germano, and became the keynote of his whole life. Deliberately he made up his mind to follow the light they shed on him and to give himself henceforth to poverty. The entreaties of his cousin, his prayers and promises, were all unavailing. Philip saw the end clear before him, and left all things that he might give himself wholly to Christ. Between him and that other lovable Italian saint, Francis of Assisi, there was much in common. Francis, like Philip, embraced poverty, and made her his bride; for Francis poverty meant exterior, for Philip, interior detachment. Gentleness and courtesy, which as Goethe tells us, are kin to love, characterised both saints. In imaginative language, in keeping with the romantic ideas of his time, Francis pours forth songs in praise of his chosen bride, poverty : the love of Philip's heart flows forth in more polished if less poetical verses. And both were men whose lives were poems, in their ideality, in their raptures, in their exaggerations, in their apparent follies of love. Leaving all then, as did Francis, Philip went to Rome to begin a life wholly given to God. In 1534, Philip went to Rome. That year, as we have already seen, was memorable in the history of the Church for the loss of England. Paul 111. had just been elected. Pagan ideals had long been prevalent in the social, literary, and artistic life of the Eternal City but the new Pope was determined to bring about a reformation. Fifteen hundred years before St. Peter came up to the gates of Rome, poor, old, and unnoticed, entered and began at once to quicken the city into new life. Poor, too, and unknown, the young Florentine passed in at the gates to begin his career as the second Apostle of Rome in that sixteenth century, when the clarion of revolt had .already been sounded among the nations of.the North. , Philip found a shelter in the home of a good Florentine named Gall otto Caccia, and straightway devoted himself to a life of prayer and-mortification. He intended not to take Holy Orders, yet to acquire deeper knowledge of God and to open up fresh vistas for his love he set himself to gain a solid knowledge of theology

and Sacred - Scripture. He is never spoken of as on© of the great masters of theology ; but his knowledge was profound and clear, and his favorite book was the great Szimvia of St. Thomas—the one book on which a theologian’s mind can be thoroughly formed. ' i '• Philip put himself absolutely in God’s" hands, following docilely where the inspirations of grace led him! After three years of assiduous study he suddenly sold his books and gave the money he got for them to the poor. This quick resolution may seem capricious; but it was in Philip a perfect obedience to the interior voice, no sooner heard than obeyed. He now devoted himself to an extraordinary lay-apostolate of charity, visiting the sick, preaching the love of God, converting sinners, and gathering about him a zealous band of fellowworkers who, under his guidance, wrought a marvellous reform amongst the citizens of Rome in the twelve years of this apostolate. During these years his own interior life was a beautiful mystery of the effects of divine love in the soul. Prayer informed all his labors, and prayer in him was the voice of love. His mortifications were great, his struggles with temptations many, and his raptures ineffable. The purity of his life was marvellous, and in it lay at once the secret of his close union with God and of his power of drawing to himself the young and clean of heart. Such were the effects of his lay-preaching that he was invited to preach in some of the churches of Rome though not in Holy Orders. His latest Italian biographer tells us what his preaching was like:' ‘To get an idea of his preaching one must not think of the terrible and fascinating eloquence of St. Jerome or St, Chrysostom, but rather go back to Jesus Christ and recall the simplicity, the beauty, and the ease of the Parables, of the Sermon on the Mountain, or of the discourses by the Lake of Genesareth. It was like a little stream, moving quietly, reviving and refreshing.’ The lay-apostolate lasted twelve years, ending when, at the age of thirty-six, Philip, yielding to prayers that were almost commands, received Holy Orders and began his life as a priest. What a lesson those thirty-six years teach all of us! In all the history of the Church there is nothing so beautiful as the life of the young Florentine, which reflects so much of the beauty, the gentleness, the purity, and the love of Christ’s own life on which Philip’s was modelled. Over all the clouds, clear above the dust and din of those bygone centuries, the figure of Philip stands forth as the loveliest type of Christian manhood the world has ever known; and as a layman, especially, his example remains a permanent beacon for all ages. For all, men and women, young and old, this beautiful figure is the archetype of the fulness of Catholic life. Here, in mezzo del cammino , midway in his life, we shall leave him, to resume later the consideration of his career as a priest and founder of a religious society, as a reformer and a saint.