Turenne
King Louis XIV was disappointed. He had hoped that a man he respected and loved would return to the Catholic faith. That man was a general named Turenne. He was a steadfast Calvinist, however.
Jacques-Benigne Bousset, perhaps the most renowned orator from the pulpit of his day, took to engage Turenne in private conversations, seeking to convert the man. The one stumbling block which he could not overcome was the doctrine of the Real Presence. Turenne simply could not bring himself to believe in it.
It was during one of these private sessions, in 1667, that a fire broke out in one of the galleries that connected the Louvre with the Palace of the Tuileries. A fierce wind fanned the flames and all efforts to save the multitude of precious artworks collected there seemed to have no hope of success.
It was then that Bousset ran to the palace chapel. Taking a ciborium holding God Made Man, he appeared at one end of burning gallery. As the sound of the bell that announced the coming of the King of Kings, all present fell to sides, making a path in the middle of the gallery through which Bousset was allowed to walk. Pronouncing a benediction, Bousset made his way through the men and the smoke. As he did so, the wind ceased and the fire subsided.
Turenne joined in the procession that carried the Sacred Host back to the tabernacle in the chapel, singing along with the others there, the Te Deum, the ancient hymn dating back to the 4th century that begins, “Thee, O God, we praise.”
From that day, Turenne was a believer.
Shapcote, Emily Mary, Legends of the Blessed Sacrament (London, Burns & Oates) p. 115-116.
St. Tarcissus
In 258 A.D., Pope Sixtus II was martyred in the Catacombs below Rome. He had violated an edict of the Emperor Valerian by visiting the “cemeteries.” The Catacombs had been the one place that Christians could take refuge and say Mass with some sense of security. Now, that was even forbidden.
The day after the execution of the Pope, it was determined that the Holy Eucharist should be sent to the faithful who remained in the city, in order to strengthen them for the death that awaited them as well. A boy named Tarcissus was given the task of taking the Blessed Sacrament to them. He wrapped it in linen and concealed it about his person.
As he approached the walls of the city, he was met by a party of soldiers. They demanded to see what he was carrying. He would not obey. They struck him repeatedly and killed him. Then they searched him but could find nothing. The Host had disappeared.
Shapcote, Emily Mary, Legends of the Blessed Sacrament (London, Burns & Oates) p. 11.
All Over The World
“Once, the image was being exhibited over the altar during the Corpus Christi procession [June 20, 1935]. When the priest exposed the Blessed Sacrament, and the choir began to sing, the rays from the image pierced the Sacred Host and spread out all over the world. Then I heard these words: These rays of mercy will pass through you, just as they have passed through this Host, and they will go out through all the world. At these words, profound joy invaded my soul.”
From the Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska, par. 441.
Spreading Throughout the Church
That same day, when I was in church waiting for confession, I saw the same rays issuing from the monstrance and spreading throughout the church. This lasted all through the service. After the Benediction, [the rays shone out] to both sides and returned again to the monstrance. Their appearance was bright and transparent like crystal.
From the Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska, par. 370.
Two Rays Coming Out
“During Holy Mass, when the Lord Jesus was exposed in the Blessed Sacrament, before Holy Communion I saw two rays coming out from the Blessed Host, just as they are painted in the image, one of them red and the other pale. And they were reflected on each of the sisters and wards, but not on all in the same way. On some of them the rays were barely visible. It was the last day of the children’s retreat.”
From the Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska, par. 336.
The Annoying Impulse
Cardinal Nicholas Wiseman was the first cardinal to reside in England since the Reformation, the first archbishop of Westminster, and one of the chief architects of the 19th-century revival of Roman Catholicism in England. He was asked to help dedicate a chapel to be used for perpetual adoration. During his sermon for the occasion, he related the following story.
It seems there was a very distinguished German woman who was known for her piety and charity. In terms of faith, she was a Protestant. She was also very critical of and strongly opposed to the Catholic Church.
Once, while on a trip to Rome however, she happened into a church where perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament was being practiced. She took note of the people there. Some stared intently toward the altar. Some lay prostrate on the ground before it. In looking at the altar, the only thing she noticed of any significance were the many candles, situated upon it, that were lit and glowing. She was completely unmindful of the real focus of the reverence she was amidst. She said to herself, “Great God, these people are surely not adoring the candles?”
Then, she felt some compulsion, some interior impulse, to kneel herself. Her reaction, though it undoubtedly included some elements of surprise, consisted primarily of great annoyance.
On another occasion, she had a quite similar experience.
It was a year later that she first learned of the One in whose presence she had been in those prior instances.
Afterwards, when recollecting the year in which she had rebuffed these callings of a special character, she cried.
Source: Etlin, Rev. Lukas, O.S.B., Eucharistic Miracles (Clyde, Missouri, Benedictine Convent of Perpetual Adoration 1947), p. 51-52.
He Didn’t Know Better
He (my father) used to go very often to the church of Notre Dame des Victoires, a stone’s throw away (from his office). What drove him there? He couldn’t say. This church simply drew him as it still attracts those who are searching. One day while Mass was being celebrated, my father joined the line of people going up for communion in good faith, and received the Holy Eucharist. This was utterly irregular. Be he didn’t know better. Sometimes, it pleases God to overlook all the rules. Like me, my father instantly believed and got in touch with our friend Roselys, who gave him the address of a religious. The rest followed without difficulty.
(An account by the American-French novelist Julien Green, of the conversion of his father, while the latter was stationed as an American businessman in Paris.)
Source: Gaudoin-Parker, Michael, The Real Presence Through the Ages (New York, Alba House, 1993) p. 170.
Marge’s Story
Marge was in Tampa, Florida one Saturday afternoon in 1997. Something had been causing her a good deal of sadness, and she had been crying. Then, she decided to take her troubles to church. She would go to the Saturday vigil Mass, but she would also go early, so she could spend some time praying before the tabernacle.
As she prayed, there before the Blessed Sacrament within, she suddenly saw a beam of light come from the tabernacle. It slowly grew closer and closer to her. It then penetrated her body and, for a few seconds, she felt “that I could move a mountain.” After it quickly ended, she “was no longer sad.”
Source: “Guardians of the Eucharist,” The Spirit of Adoration, ed. June Klins, Issue No.2, Erie, PA, p.6, http://www.spiritofmedjugorje.org/files/AdorationIssue2.pdf.
The Forgiveness of Charles Martel
Charles Martel reunited and, from 718 to 741, was the de facto ruler of Francia, which contained much of present-day France and Germany. In 732, at Poitiers, he won a historic victory over the Muslims, stemming their invasion of Europe.
Apparently carried away with exuberance over the event, he committed, prior to the ensuing victory celebration, an extremely grave sin. So grave was the sin that he could not bring himself to confess it, his shame being so great. Determining upon a solution, he decided to go to Provenza and see a well-known abbot of the time named Egidio. He hoped that he could find absolution through this priest, even without confessing the sin and keeping it still a secret to himself. The sin was that of incest, and the other party involved was his sister.
After he arrived, Fr. Egidio was presiding at Mass when he beheld an angel carrying a book. In the book, the sin had been written. As Fr. Egidio progressed with the celebration of the Eucharist, the writing slowly faded, until it was no longer visible.
Martel took from this that his sin had been forgiven.
Today, the priest is known as St. Egidio.
Source: “The Eucharistic Miracles of the World,” a Vatican international exhibition, as reported by The Real Presence Eucharistic Education and Adoration and Association,
http://www.therealpresence.org/eucharst/mir/english_pdf/Egidio.pdf.
Never In All His Life
Sylvan Dutheil was 16 years old when he enlisted in the army. During his time of military service, he contracted a pulmonary disease that sent him home. One day, he was walking with his sister down a street in Montpellier, in southern France. He came across a portrait of Fr. Jean Vianney and scoffed. His sister had a different reaction. She knew of this man, who was the cause for many pilgrims to journey to his small village of Ars, about 170 miles distant from Montpellier. She told her brother, “you might obtain your cure were you to put your trust in that holy man.” That only increased his derisive attitude toward the priest and the esteem accorded him by others.
That night, however, changed this attitude. He had a dream in which saw Fr. Vianney. Fr. Vianney was holding an apple, an apple that had a two-part appearance. Half of it was fine. The other half was rotten. It shook Sylvan. He then asked to go to Ars.
He arrived there, with his mother, in the middle of November, 1855. Fr. Vianney visited him at his hotel each day. On December 8, 1855, he converted and received absolution of his sins. Due to his ill health, he was carried to the foot of the altar. He received Communion and was carried back to the sacristy.
He then declared, “never in all my life have I felt such happiness.”
After being taken back to the hotel, he told his mother: “the joy of this Communion makes me forget all my sufferings. I do not wish to leave … I want to die here.”
That very night, he did.
For those who believe, it is God who decides to give us life and it is God who decides the time when each life shall end. For Sylvan Dutheil, that decision allowed an end to his sufferings, but only after he had experienced “the joy of this Communion.”
Source: Trochu, Abbe Francois, The Cure D’Ars (Charlotte, N.C., Tan Books 2007) p. 322-323.