Apostle of Church Unity

by Fr. Roger J. Landry - January 18, 2008

Every year, within the heart of the Octave of Prayer for Church Unity, we celebrate on January 24 the feast of St. Francis de Sales. This is most fitting, because I think more than any other figure, he shows us how the imperative for Christian unity should take flesh in us. Ever since the clergy sexual abuse scandals came to light, however, I think he does even more than that: he incarnates the fully Christian response to them.

Francis was born in 1567 of a noble family in what is now eastern France. After a great religious and academic formation at the top European universities, he returned home where his father had destined him to marry an heiress and become a senator. Francis, however, had made a vow of chastity and felt called by God to the priesthood. A difficult struggle ensued, until the Bishop of Geneva obtained for Francis the appointment as second in charge of the Diocese of Geneva, which placated Francis' father's sense of pride. Francis was ordained a priest and took up his duties. In addition to the administrative tasks for which he was responsible, he quickly became a much sought confessor and friend of the poor.

The diocese of Geneva, however, was in shambles. Decades of scandals among the clergy had made it very easy for Calvinism to spread throughout the region of the Chablais. The people were so poorly catechized that they were not able to respond to Calvinist arguments. They were, moreover, so angry at the hypocrisy of their local churchmen that they were easily incited to turn on the Catholic faith, run their priests out of town and take up a form of Christianity that at least seemed to be moral. The bishop of Geneva even had to flee the see city and take up residence in Annecy. Some reports said that there were only about 20 Catholics left in the vast region.

Nine months after Francis' ordination, the bishop held a meeting with all his priests, seeking volunteers to send to the region to try to win the people back. He didn't hide the dangers or the difficulties. The people were not only ill-disposed but hostile: the first priest who had been sent had been attacked and driven from the region. None of the clergy at the meeting stepped forward for what minimally was a tough assignment, but could be a fatal one. Finally, Francis stood up and said, "If you think I am capable of undertaking the mission, tell me to go. I am ready to obey and should be happy to be chosen." The bishop accepted the proposal, over the fierce objections of Francis' father.

At 27 years old, Francis, traveling by foot, set out to try to win back the vast geographic area. The work was rough and dangerous. For his protection, he was ordered to sleep at night in a military garrison. On two occasions, assassins ambushed him along the way, but both times, seemingly miraculously, he survived. On another occasion, he was attacked by wolves and had to spend a glacial night in a tree. But he labored on, despite having little to show for all his effort. He wrote in a letter to a friend, "We are but making a beginning. I shall go on in good courage, and I hope in God against all human hope."

Seeking another means to get through to people across the region, he began to write leaflets patiently setting forth Catholic teaching, charitably explaining the errors of Calvinism, and tackling head on controversial issues. To those who still harbored anger toward the clerics who committed "spiritual murder" through scandalous behavior, Francis plainly acknowledged the evil and harm done, but warned his readers not to commit "spiritual suicide," by using those scandals as a means to cut themselves off from the sacraments and the Church.

These tracts began to have an impact, as they were copied by hand and passed from person to person. A steady stream of lapsed Catholics began to seek reconciliation.

He welcomed them with the love of the father of the prodigal son, and soon his warmth and gentleness in restoring them to communion brought many others. "I have always said," he insisted, "that whoever preaches with love is preaching effectively against the heretics, even though he does not say a single controversial word against them." When sinners were filled with shame, he comforted them: "God and I will help you; all I require of you is not to despair. I shall take on myself the burden of the rest." When he was criticized for leniency toward those in heresy, he responded, "Are they not a part of my flock? Has not our blessed Lord shed his blood for them? These wolves will be changed into lambs; a day will come when they will be more precious in the sight of God than we are. If Saul had been cast off, we should never have had St. Paul."

Within the span of five years, the holy "Apostle of the Chablais" had reconciled and evangelized almost the entire region. To the sins that had caused schism and heresy, he responded with holiness and the truth. To the anger with which he was welcomed, he responded with meekness. "Never forget that one can catch more flies with a spoonful of honey," in an expression that has since become famous, "than with a hundred barrels of vinegar."

St. Francis' fame would grow later as a bishop, preacher and founder of the Visitation sisters. His catechetical tracts eventually made their way around the entire world and were so successful in spreading the truths of the faith that he was eventually named the patron saint of journalists. His spiritual writings were so rich that he was declared a doctor of the Church.

But he will always remain a meek and courageous icon of Church unity, whose example brightly illumines the path for us today.

Father Roger J. Landry is pastor of St. Anthony of Padua in New Bedford, MA and Executive Editor of The Anchor, the weekly newspaper of the Diocese of Fall River.