Saint Benoît-Joseph Labre
Les diocèses d'Arras, où
il est né en 1748, et de Sées, célèbrent aujourd'hui la mémoire de Saint
Benoît-Joseph Labre, le vagabond de Dieu. Après un essai de vie monastique à
Sept-Fons, près de Moulins, il mena une vie d'errance, demandant un jour l'hospitalité
dans la maison des Vianney à Ecully où Jean-Marie n'était encore qu'enfant. Ses
pas le conduisirent jusqu'à Rome : il parcourut quelque 25000 kilomètres à pied
sur les routes et les sentiers d'Europe. Il finit par se fixer dans la Ville
éternelle, vivant de mendicité sous une arche du Colisée. A sa mort, les
enfants de Rome coururent en tous sens annoncer : « le Saint est
mort! ». De nombreux miracles se produisirent sur son tombeau.
Photograph
of a painting representing Benoît Joseph Labre (Church of Amettes)
Photographie
d'un tableau représentant Benoît Joseph Labre (église d'Amettes)
Saint Benoît-Joseph Labre
Pèlerin, mendiant (+ 1783)
Confesseur de la foi.
Il est l'aîné d'une
famille de quinze enfants d'un laboureur d'Amettes dans le nord de la France.
Il passe sa jeunesse dans les champs avec son père et ses frères. Mais il rêve
d'être moine pour ne vivre que de Dieu.
A 19 ans, il se présente
dans plusieurs monastères de chartreux. L'un ne prend pas de novices à cause
d'un incendie récent. Dans l'autre, on le trouve trop jeune. Admis à la
chartreuse de Montreuil-sur-Mer, il n'est pas gardé à cause de sa santé trop
fragile. A pied, il se rend à la Grande-Trappe de Soligny : il est toujours
trop jeune. Il revient à Montreuil, c'est un nouvel échec. La Grande Trappe de
Sept-Fons ne l'accepte pas non plus et le Père Abbé lui dit :"Dieu vous
veut ailleurs."
Désormais c'est
"ailleurs" qu'il vivra dans l'errance et le pèlerinage perpétuel. Il
ne cherche plus à se fixer. Son monastère sera la route, son seul compagnon de
prière sera Dieu seul. En sept ans, il parcourut près de 30.000 kilomètres d'un
sanctuaire à l'autre, en Espagne, en Suisse, en Allemagne et jusqu'en
Pologne(*), vivant dans le plus extrême dénuement, partageant avec les pauvres
les soupes populaires et les humiliations, toujours en oraison et toujours
patient. Les prêtres qui le confessent sont émerveillés par sa vie mystique et
son humilité. Mais son lieu de prédilection, c'est Rome où il passe ses
journées en prière dans les églises, logeant avec tant d'autres pauvres dans
les ruines du Colisée, distribuant à de plus pauvres ce qu'on lui donne. Dans
les rues, les gamins se moquent de lui. Il les entend et rend grâces à Dieu. Le
mercredi saint 1783, on le ramasse mourant sur les marches d'une église.
Dès sa mort connue, les
gamins et le peuple de Rome s'en vont par les rues de Rome en criant :"Le
saint est mort!" Les miracles se multiplient sur son tombeau. Bénéficiant
ainsi d'un culte précoce et populaire, il est un défi au matérialisme d'une
société vouée à l'argent.
Il est le saint patron
des sans-domicile fixe, des pauvres et des exclus.
Béatifié par Pie IX en
1860, il est canonisé par Léon XIII le 8 décembre 1883.
Voir aussi sur le site
internet du diocèse d'Arras : "Les couvents l'avaient refusé, mais la
route l'accueillit et le mena loin!" Benoît-Joseph Labre, est né à
Amettes. Après des essais de vie religieuse, il se fit ermite pèlerin et vécut
dans la pauvreté et l' humilité. Il parcourut ainsi la France, l'Italie,
l'Espagne, avant de se fixer à Rome où il passait la majeure partie de son
temps en prière dans les églises. Il mourut âgé de 35 ans, le 16 avril 1783, à
Rome, près de l'église Sainte Marie aux Monts. ll est le patron des personnes
déplacées et des gens inadaptés. Une neuvaine a lieu à Amettes, chaque année,
la dernière semaine d'août.
(*) l'association Saint
Benoît Labre nous signale qu'il "n'est jamais allé en Pologne. Le pays le
plus au nord qu'il aurait visité est la Hollande, mais nous n'avons pas de
preuve fiable."
À Rome, en 1783, saint
Benoît-Joseph Labre. Né à Ameth au diocèse de Boulogne, attiré dès son enfance
par le désir d’une vie austère, mais malheureux dans ses essais de vie
monastique, il entreprit des pèlerinages pénibles aux sanctuaires les plus
réputés, vêtu seulement d’un habit grossier et en loques, se nourrissant de ce
qu’il mendiait et donnant partout des exemples de piété et de pénitence. Il fit
de Rome la dernière étape de son parcours et mourut, un mercredi saint, près de
l’église Sainte-Marie des Monts, où il priait assidûment.
Martyrologe romain
SOURCE : http://nominis.cef.fr/contenus/saint/986/Saint-Benoit-Joseph-Labre.html
Statue
de Benoît Joseph Labre, Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Saint-Bertrand-de-Comminges
Statue
de Benoît Joseph Labre, Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Saint-Bertrand-de-Comminges
Saint Benoît-Joseph
Labre, le détachement poussé à l’extrême
Mathilde de Robien - publié
le 15/04/19 - mis à jour le 11/04/23
On l’appelle le
"vagabond de Dieu". Patron des sans-abri, saint Benoît-Joseph Labre
(1748-1783) parcourut pendant sept ans près de 30.000 kilomètres dans le plus
grand dénuement, allant d’églises en sanctuaires pour prier Dieu. Il est fêté
le 16 avril.
Le pape émérite Benoît
XVI définit saint Benoît-Joseph Labre comme "l’un des saints les plus
particuliers de l’histoire de l’Église", dans son homélie pour la messe de
son 85e anniversaire le 16 avril 2012. "Un saint un peu particulier
qui, en mendiant, vagabonde d’un sanctuaire à l’autre et ne veut rien faire
d’autre que prier et, avec cela, rendre témoignage à ce qui compte dans cette
vie : Dieu". Un modèle effectivement surprenant, dérangeant, et néanmoins
édifiant, tellement son amour pour le Christ l’a poussé à un détachement total
des choses terrestres.
À la recherche de sa
vocation
Né le 26 mars 1748 à
Amettes (Pas-de-Calais), dans le Nord de la France, il est l'aîné d'une famille
très pieuse de quinze enfants. À l’âge de 16 ans, alors qu’il avait été envoyé
chez un oncle curé en vue de devenir prêtre, il réalise qu’il désire être
moine. "Je veux être moine, moine contemplatif et non pas curé de
campagne. Je vivrai de l’herbe des champs et de racines, comme les anciens
ermites", dit-il.
Lire aussi :Benoît-Joseph
Labre, celui que Dieu appelait toujours ailleurs
Une soif d’absolu qui le
guidera toute sa vie. À 19 ans, il tente de rentrer dans différents monastères
mais ce sont des échecs. Il est trop jeune, trop faible, ou pris de terribles
crises d’angoisse qui le font douter de sa vocation. Le 2 juillet 1770, le père
abbé de la Grande Trappe de Sept-Fons (Allier) finit par lui dire, après huit
mois de noviciat : "Dieu vous veut ailleurs".
À partir de ce jour, il
comprend que Dieu lui demande un détachement total. Résonne en lui cette phrase
de l’Évangile de Luc selon laquelle "le Fils de l’homme n’a pas d’endroit
où reposer la tête" (Lc 9, 58). Commence alors une vie d’errance absolue. Le
jeune homme s’en va sur les routes d’Europe, de l’Espagne à la Pologne, et de
l’Allemagne à la Sicile, prier Dieu sans cesse et toujours. Nourri de la
Parole, épris de silence, uni au Christ avec qui il marche, saint Benoît-Joseph
Labre aura suivi fidèlement les "inspirations de la Grâce".
Un passionné de Dieu
"Pour aimer Dieu comme il convient, il faudrait avoir trois
cœurs en un seul", dit-il. Un triple amour qui le conduit à ne rien
posséder pour mieux aimer et suivre le Christ. Sale, en haillons, une croix sur
la poitrine, un chapelet autour du cou et un baluchon sur l’épaule contenant
l’Évangile, son bréviaire, l’Imitation de Jésus-Christ et la Règle de saint Benoît, saint Benoît-Joseph Labre fréquente
les pauvres et les marginaux, et vient en aide à ceux qu’il juge plus démunis
que lui.
Vers la fin de sa vie, il
retourne à Rome. Il y passe des journées entières en prière dans les églises, logeant
dans une excavation des ruines du Colisée. Épuisé, il meurt le 16 avril 1783 à
l’âge de 35 ans. Le jour de sa mort, un Mercredi saint, les enfants
s’élancèrent dans les rues de Rome en criant : "Le saint est mort ! Le
saint est mort !". "Benoît-Joseph vit en continuelle union avec Dieu,
et demeure en Sa présence", confia le père Temple, un prêtre qui avait
cherché à éprouver le jeune homme. Il fut canonisé par Léon XIII le
8 décembre 1881.
Lire aussi :Abandonner
sa carrière pour servir les plus pauvres
SOURCE : https://fr.aleteia.org/2019/04/15/saint-benoit-joseph-labre-le-detachement-pousse-a-lextreme
Statue
de Benoît Joseph Labre, chœur de léglise Saint-Germain de Royon
Benoît-Joseph Labre, le
saint qui veille sur les gens de la rue
Rachel Molinatti - publié
le 15/04/19
Fêté dans l’Église
catholique le 16 avril, saint Benoît-Joseph Labre est le saint patron des
personnes sans domicile, des personnes déplacées et des gens « inadaptés ».
Éternel vagabond, il a parcouru l’Europe à pied, véritable mendiant habité par
la présence de Dieu.Drôle de vie que celle de saint Benoît-Joseph Labre.
Surnommé le “Vagabond de Dieu”, le jeune garçon voulait se faire
moine. Éconduit à plusieurs reprises, une fois parce que le monastère où il
projetait d’entrer a été victime d’un incendie, une autre en raison de son
jeune âge, ou à cause de sa santé trop fragile, il finit par partir sur les
routes et devient un véritable nomade perpétuellement en pèlerinage, vivant de
mendicité. La route devient son monastère. Il parcourt près de 30.000
kilomètres à pied, allant d’un sanctuaire à l’autre à travers toute l’Europe,
de la Suisse, à l’Allemagne en passant par la Pologne et l’Espagne.
Lire aussi :
Saint
Benoît-Joseph Labre, le détachement poussé à l’extrême
“II nous montre que Dieu
suffit à lui seul”
C’est “l’un des saints
les plus particuliers de l’histoire de l’Église”, selon le pape Benoît XVI — né
le jour de sa fête. “Il ne représente bien sûr pas un exemple à diffuser, mais
il est un indicateur, un doigt tendu vers l’essentiel. Il nous montre que Dieu
suffit à lui seul ; qu’au-delà de ce qu’il peut y avoir dans ce monde, au-delà
de nos nécessités et de nos capacités, ce qui compte, l’essentiel est de
connaître Dieu” (homélie du 16 avril 2012). Le jour de sa mort, les enfants
de la rue se précipitent dans la rue et crient : “Le saint est mort ! Le saint
est mort !” C’est dire si son message évangélique s’est diffusé. Il est encore
prié aujourd’hui, ainsi qu’en témoigne Jean-Marc Potdevin, co-fondateur du
réseau Entourage, qui reconnaît l’importance de ce saint vers lequel peuvent se
tourner tous ceux qui travaillent en lien avec des personnes de la
rue. Ci-dessous, une
prière composée par Benoît-Joseph Labre :
En image : Mère Teresa,
une vie au service des plus pauvres
SOURCE : https://fr.aleteia.org/2019/04/15/benoit-joseph-labre-le-saint-qui-veille-sur-les-gens-de-la-rue
Benoît-Joseph Labre,
celui que Dieu appelait toujours ailleurs
Anne Bernet - publié
le 15/04/22 - mis à jour le 08/04/24
Pouilleux et misérable,
Benoît-Joseph Labre a fui toute sa vie le confort le plus élémentaire, mais
aussi le respect et la considération des hommes pour montrer que l’essentiel
était toujours "ailleurs". Il est fêté le 16 avril.
Il existe à Rome, dans
l’ancien quartier de Suburre, aux temps antiques refuge de gueux, de
prostituées et de voleurs, à quelques centaines de mètres du Colisée, une
petite église qui, au premier regard, n’en impose guère. Elle se nomme Santa
Maria dei Monti, Notre-Dame des Monts. Dans ce modeste sanctuaire repose,
depuis la mi-avril 1783, un saint toute sa vie condamné à ne jamais se reposer,
voué à d’inlassables pérégrinations pour le salut des âmes. C’est Benoît-Joseph Labre, venu, au terme d’invraisemblables
voyages d’un sanctuaire à l’autre, mourir loin de sa Picardie natale au coin de
cette via dei Serpenti, cette rue des Serpents, aujourd’hui encore si
pittoresque qu’elle semble presque n’avoir pas changé depuis le XVIIIe siècle.
L’essentiel est ailleurs
Étonnante revanche de
l’histoire, car l’homme que l’on vénère ici, de son vivant, a été plus d’une
fois chassé de cette église sous prétexte qu’il faisait peur aux gens… Au demeurant,
Benoît aura toujours été chassé de partout et, quand il ne le sera pas, il
s’enfuira, éperdu de panique, chaque fois que, devinant sa lumineuse sainteté
sous sa crasse et ses haillons, on s’avisera de lui faire bon accueil. On
doutera de sa santé mentale, on le soupçonnera de vols et de crapuleries,
d’escroquerie, de paresse, de mensonge, peut-être d’hérésie sans jamais lui
arracher un mot pour sa défense. Tel quel, grandiose, impossible à imiter, il
clame à son époque, et à la nôtre, enlisées dans le matérialisme, que
l’essentiel est ailleurs.
Il naît à Amettes, non
loin de Béthune, premier enfant d’un couple de fermiers assez aisé pour élever
la nombreuse famille que le Ciel lui donnera. Sage, studieux, obéissant,
respectueux, sa piété est précocement si vive que ses parents ne s’y trompent
pas : leur aîné ne reprendra pas l’exploitation ; la main de Dieu est sur lui.
Ces catholiques fervents ne songent pas à freiner Benoît dans une vocation
qu’ils voient toute tracée. Il apprendra d’abord auprès d’un oncle prêtre, ira
au séminaire, et, un jour, sera curé d’une des paroisses des environs. Cette
route trop droite n’est pas celle que le Seigneur réserve au garçon.
Toujours plus loin
Le tout jeune clerc si
édifiant est dévoré de scrupules si violents qu’il se prend pour le pire des
pécheurs et n’ose pas communier. Ses mortifications perpétuelles ne le
rassurent pas ; pour sauver un coupable comme lui, il faut, au moins, la vie
monastique la plus sévère et les plus grandes pénitences. À la désolation de ses
parents, il déclare qu’il sera chartreux, ou mieux encore, trappiste, mais, à
la chartreuse comme dans les trappes de Soligny et de Sept-Fons, il faut
finalement lui montrer la porte tant, en dépit de ses efforts, il se montre
incapable de se faire à une vie communautaire trop douce à ses yeux. Ailleurs,
toujours plus loin, peut-être un autre monastère voudra-t-il bien de ce novice
par trop singulier…
Dans un élan
d’exaltation, il a fait vœu de ne jamais rentrer chez lui ni revoir sa famille,
ses confesseurs admettent la validité de ce sacrifice.
Cet autre monastère,
Benoît ne le trouvera pas. Pourquoi ? Il n’en sait rien et en souffre. Dans un
élan d’exaltation, il a fait vœu de ne jamais rentrer chez lui ni revoir sa
famille, ses confesseurs admettent la validité de ce sacrifice. Mais que faire
de ce garçon qui ne veut pas être du monde et ne peut s’enfermer dans le
cloître ? Un directeur de conscience lui donne alors un étrange conseil qui
correspond, en fait, parfaitement aux vues divines sur le jeune homme : aller
en priant de sanctuaire en sanctuaire, dépouillé de tout, libre, vivre de l’air
du temps plutôt que de la charité, et, partout où il passera, demander sa voie
au Bon Dieu, à Sa Mère et ses saints.
Clochard lamentable
Benoît prend la route.
Pèlerin infatigable, il parcourt la France, l’Italie, la Suisse, l’Autriche,
l’Espagne. Parce que sa jeunesse, sa bonne éducation, ses connaissances,
dénoncent le fils de bonne famille, et que certains le traitent trop bien, il
décide de ne plus se laver… Crasseux, puant, couvert de poux et de vermine, la
barbe drue, les cheveux longs et sales, clochard lamentable enveloppé de loques ridicules,
coiffé d’un chapeau vert cabossé, mais refusant l’aumône offerte, il marche,
marche. Parce qu’il a fait vœu d’obéissance, il entre là où on lui dit
d’entrer, mange ce qu’on lui dit de manger mais n’est heureux que lorsque,
dégoûtés, les gens le chassent, l’accusent de crimes improbables et que les
gamins lui jettent des ordures…
Est-il fou ? Non. Il vit
l’imitation de Jésus-Christ, comme nul peut-être avant lui n’a osé la vivre.
"À quoi pensez-vous donc ?" lui demande un jour une religieuse compatissante
qui le trouve absorbé dans des pensées si profondes qu’il ne semble ni voir ni
entendre ceux qui l’entourent. La réponse jaillit, splendide et déconcertante :
"À la sainte couronne d’épines." Quelques prêtres, d’abord méfiants
devant celui qu’ils prennent pour un illuminé, un tartuffe, puis décontenancés
par son inatteignable pureté, devinent chez cet errant un messager du Ciel sans
parvenir à décrypter l’enseignement mystérieux qu’il dispense à son temps. Plus
clairvoyantes, les femmes, laïques ou religieuses, alors même que, dans sa peur
du péché, Benoît ne lève jamais les yeux sur elles, savent que cet épouvantail
est puissant sur le cœur de Dieu et le supplient de prier pour elles et les
leurs.
Semeur de miracles
Parfois, sans qu’il le
veuille, ce pouvoir échappe au contrôle de Benoît. Là, c’est un malade qui
guérit à l’improviste parce qu’il a posé sa main répugnante sur la sienne ;
ici, une prophétie imprévue, tel ce "trésor" qu’il devine caché chez
ses hôtes, et qui sera à l’origine d’une des plus grandes fortunes françaises ;
près de Lyon, dans une ferme accueillante, il affirme aux futurs grands-parents
du curé d’Ars, qu’une bénédiction viendra sur leur maison. En d’autres
occasions, il annonce, avec beaucoup de précisions, la Révolution et ses
drames.
Ce pouilleux sème les
miracles sous ses pas.
Quand s’ouvrira sa cause
de béatification, il se trouvera bien des gens pour jurer devant Dieu l’avoir
vu en extase, visage rayonnant, léviter au-dessus du sol. En fait, ce pouilleux
sème les miracles sous ses pas. Le plus joli d’entre eux, le plus durable
aussi, a lieu dans un village proche de Fabriano où Benoît est allé vénérer le
tombeau de saint Romuald. Il pleut à verse. Sur le seuil d’une bicoque, une
femme en deuil, les yeux rougis de larmes, manifestement enceinte, regarde
passer ce cheminot et, prise de pitié, malgré son propre dénuement, l’invite à
entrer se mettre au sec. Contrairement à ses habitudes, Benoît sort de son
habituel silence et, dans un italien approximatif, s’enquiert des malheurs de
son hôtesse : le mari, couvreur, mort accidentellement peu avant en tombant
d’un toit, plus d’argent, deux enfants à nourrir, un troisième sur le point de
naître. Qui y pourvoira ? Il trouve les mots pour assurer que la Providence
n’abandonne pas ceux qui se confient à elle ; les angoisses de la mère
s’apaisent, les enfants rient.
« Il faut avoir
trois cœurs »
Alors, Labre, qui,
d’ordinaire, ne demande jamais rien, implore l’aumône d’une aiguillée de fil
pour recoudre ses loques ; la veuve la lui donne, contente de découvrir qu’en
sa détresse, elle peut encore secourir plus pauvre qu’elle. À côté habitent
trois sœurs, ses voisines et amies ; l’une d’entre elles, Vincenza, souffre
depuis neuf ans d’une maladie incurable qu’elle supporte de plus en plus mal.
On lui raconte l’arrivée de l’étrange pèlerin, qui parle si bien de Dieu, elle
demande à le voir. Benoît se rend à son chevet, lui assure qu’elle
"passera de son lit au Ciel", si elle sait aimer Dieu. Mais comment
faut-il aimer Dieu ? Dans un italien brusquement impeccable, le jeune homme
répond :
"Pour aimer Dieu, il
faut avoir trois cœurs. Le premier tout de feu afin que nous pensions sans
cesse à Lui, parlions sans cesse de Lui, agissions sans cesse pour Lui et
supporter avec patience toute notre vie le mal qu’Il lui plaît de nous laisser
subir. Le second tout de chair afin d’aimer le prochain, nous porter à l’aider
par l’aumône dans ses nécessités temporelles, plus encore dans ses nécessités
spirituelles en l’instruisant, le conseillant, lui donnant l’exemple et en
priant pour lui ; ce cœur doit être prompt à s’attendrir d’abord pour les
pécheurs et pour nos ennemis, en demandant au Seigneur de les éclairer afin
qu’ils fassent pénitence. Ce cœur doit aussi être plein de compassion envers
les âmes du Purgatoire et supplier sans cesse que Jésus et Marie les
introduisent dans la gloire éternelle. Le troisième cœur, enfin, se doit d’être
de bronze envers soi-même, lui faire haïr toute sensualité, refuser tout amour
de soi, renoncer à sa volonté propre, châtier son corps par le jeûne et la
pénitence, domptant ainsi la nature corrompue, car plus vous haïrez votre
chair, plus grande sera votre récompense dans les cieux."
Des obsèques de saint
Programme inimitable sans
doute, mais qui résume toute la vie de Benoît-Joseph. Certaines d’avoir affaire
à un grand saint, ses hôtesses le supplient de lui laisser un souvenir. Benoît
prend un papier, une plume, écrit en latin une prière qui commence par ces mots
: "Jésus-Christ, Roi de gloire, est venu en paix…" Et c’est tout. En
d’autres endroits, sans même y penser ni l’avoir voulu, il est arrivé à Benoît
d’opérer des miracles. Ce ne sera pas le cas, Vincenza ne guérira pas, elle
mourra, elle ira en paradis, et cela seul importe. En revanche, quand il a fini
d’écrire sa prière, dans ce latin que les pauvres femmes ne savent pas mais que
cet étrange mendiant possède parfaitement, il leur assure que, si elles la
récitent chaque jour "avec foi", leurs maisons charitables et
accueillantes ne craindront plus jamais ni le feu ni la foudre ni les
tremblements de terre. Elles le croient, et elles ont raison puisqu’en 1781, un
séisme ravagera la région mais épargnera les demeures où l’on dit la prière de
Benoît.
Depuis longtemps, lui
s’en sera allé finir sa courte vie à Rome. Le 16 avril 1783, quand ils
apprennent sa mort, les gamins du quartier qui, tant d’années, l’ont persécuté,
insulté, moqué, s’éparpilleront dans les rues de la Ville en criant : È
morto, il Santo ! "Le Saint est mort." On lui fera, en
effet, des obsèques de saint. Le cardinal de Bernis, ambassadeur de France à
Rome, mal inspiré, écrira à Louis XVI que le culte invraisemblable rendu à ce
mendiant pouilleux mais hélas français, couvrira la France de honte et de
ridicule. Tout au contraire, Benoît-Joseph la couvrira de gloire.
Lire aussi :Benoît-Joseph
Labre, le saint qui veille sur les gens de la rue
Lire aussi :La
prière des Trois Cœurs, une invitation à mieux aimer et suivre le Christ
Lire aussi :Dobri
Dobrev, le mendiant saint de Bulgarie
SOURCE : https://fr.aleteia.org/2022/04/15/benoit-joseph-labre-celui-que-dieu-appelait-toujours-ailleurs
.jpg)
Vitrail
représentant Saint-Benoît-Joseph Labre, dans la Cathédrale d'Arras
Pèlerin, mendiant
(1748-1783)
Benoît-Joseph Labre naquit à Amettes, diocèse d'Arras, et fut l'aîné d'une
famille de quinze enfants. Âgé de douze ans, il fut reçu chez son oncle
paternel, curé d'Érin, pour faire ses études en vue du sacerdoce.
Après la mort de son oncle, Benoît-Joseph passa chez son oncle maternel,
vicaire de Conteville, où il ne fit que grandir dans la mortification et la
prière. Son attrait était toujours vers le Saint-Sacrement devant lequel il
s'abîmait des heures entières en contemplation.
Il y avait longtemps que Benoît-Joseph aspirait à une vie plus parfaite:
"Être prêtre est bien beau, disait-il; mais j'ai peur de me perdre en
sauvant les autres."
Il finit par vaincre les résistances de ses parents et entre chez les
Chartreux, espérant y trouver sa voie définitive. Il se trompait, car la
Providence permet qu'il soit bientôt renvoyé par ses supérieurs, comme n'ayant
pas la vocation de cet Ordre. La pensée de la Trappe, qu'il avait eue d'abord,
lui revient; on ne l'y accepte pas.
Ballotté de nouveau entre la Chartreuse et la Trappe, il est forcé de
s'adresser enfin à Sept-Fonts, où ses scrupules, ses peines d'esprit et une
maladie sérieuse donnent bientôt lieu à son renvoi.
Toute sa réponse à tant d'épreuves était: "Que la Volonté de Dieu soit
faite!" C'est alors que Dieu lui inspire cette vocation de
pèlerin-mendiant qui devait le mener droit, par les chemins les plus ardus de
la pénitence, à une éminente sainteté.
Il n'aura plus de relations suivies avec personne, vivra en solitaire au milieu
du monde, ira toujours à pied, cherchera tous les lieux consacrés par la dévotion.
Il sera revêtu d'un habit pauvre et déchiré, qu'il ne changera point.
Un chapelet à la main, un autre au cou, un crucifix sur la poitrine, sur les
épaules un petit sac contenant tout son avoir, c'est-à-dire son Nouveau
Testament, l'Imitation de Jésus-Christ et le Bréviaire: tel on verra
Benoît-Joseph dans ses continuels pèlerinages.
La pluie, le froid, la neige, la chaleur, rien ne l'arrête; il couche le pus
souvent en plein air, il vit de charité, au jour le jour, sans rien réserver
pour le lendemain; il ne prend que la plus misérable et la plus indispensable
nourriture, et se fait lui-même pourvoyeur des pauvres. Souvent il est le jouet
des enfants et de la populace; il est regardé comme un insensé; il souffre tout
avec patience et amour.
Rome, Lorette, Assise et une multitude d'autres lieux saints sont l'objet de sa
dévotion.
Abbé L. Jaud, Vie des Saints pour tous les jours de l'année, Tours, Mame,
1950.
SOURCE : http://magnificat.ca/cal/fr/saints/saint_benoit-joseph_labre.html
Masque
mortuaire de Saint Benoît Joseph Labre, église d'Amettes
Saint Benoît-Joseph Labre
: le saint des chemins de traverse
Par un parcours étonnant,
saint Benoît-Joseph Labre nous enseigne qu’il n’y a pas un unique chemin de
sainteté. L’important est de s’abandonner à la volonté divine.
Né le 26 mars 1748 à
Amettes dans le Pas-de-Calais, Benoît est l’ainé d’une famille de quinze
enfants. Très croyants, travailleurs et relativement aisés, ses parents
n’auront de cesse d’encourager Benoît à suivre le même chemin qu’eux.
Or, dès son enfance,
Benoît se révèle différent, original. À l’aise dans la solitude, il ne se mêle
que rarement aux jeux des autres enfants. Très obéissant, d’une piété ardente,
il renonce avec empressement à ses goûts personnels. À l’âge de 12 ans, on
l’envoie auprès de son oncle François-Joseph, curé à Erin. C’est là qu’il
découvre, dans la bibliothèque du presbytère, des écrits spirituels qui auront
une profonde influence sur lui : les écrits du théologien et mystique Louis de
Grenade et les sermons du père Lejeune, dit le père l’Aveugle, oratorien du 17e
siècle.
Cependant Benoît se
désintéresse des études. À 16 ans, il explique clairement qu’il ne se sent pas
appelé au sacerdoce. Il veut devenir moine, ermite. Entendant parler de la
Trappe, il pense avoir trouvé sa vocation. Ce projet n’emporte pourtant pas
l’adhésion des siens : Benoît ne semble pas avoir la santé et l’équilibre
nécessaires pour supporter une telle forme de vie.
À la mort de son oncle
François-Joseph, ses parents le confient à un autre de ses oncles, l’abbé
Vincent, prêtre à Conteville. Ce prêtre édifie profondément Benoît : donnant
tout ce qu’il a aux pauvres, il vit dans un grand dénuement. Benoît lui confie
son désir d’être trappiste. L’abbé Vincent lui conseille, pour ne pas inquiéter
ses parents, de s’orienter plutôt vers les Chartreux, dont la règle de vie
était moins rigoureuse et qui avaient un monastère plus proche de chez eux.
« Dieu, toi mon Dieu, je
te cherche »
Benoît obtient de ses
parents la permission d’entrer à la chartreuse de Longuenesse. Il a 19 ans.
Hélas, cette chartreuse, dévastée par un incendie, ne reçoit plus de novices.
Benoît décide alors de se rendre à la chartreuse de Montreuil. Nouvelle
déconvenue, le prieur le trouve trop jeune et lui conseille de continuer ses
études. Benoît obtempère en se rendant dans une école pour séminaristes. S’il
excellait dans l’art du plain-chant − il avait une voix magnifique −, il n’en
était pas de même dans celui de la dialectique... Quelques temps après, Benoît
est admis à entrer à la chartreuse de Montreuil : joie ! Il s’attache alors
tout entier à suivre la règle dans la plus grande fidélité et entre
profondément dans le silence du monastère. Un jour cependant, il est saisi par
une angoisse dont il ne peut se délivrer. Cette tension intolérable l’oblige à
quitter la chartreuse. Où se diriger désormais ? Pour lui c’est clair, son
premier appel pour la Trappe s’impose.
Le 25 novembre 1767, il
arrive à la grande Trappe de Soligny dans l’Orne. Il apprend alors qu’aucun
postulant ne peut être reçu avant l’âge de 24 ans. Il retourne à Amettes,
désolé et épuisé par le voyage. Il entre alors dans une grande affliction,
malgré la tendresse dont l’entoure sa famille.
Plus tard, son évêque
l’invite à faire un nouvel essai chez les Chartreux à Montreuil. Le 12 août
1769, confiant dans cet appel de l’Église, il quitte les siens. Au début, tout
se passe merveilleusement bien.
Cependant, une crise
similaire à celle qu’il avait connu précédemment survient. Benoît doit à
nouveau quitter la chartreuse. Le prieur lui adresse alors ces paroles : « Mon
fils, la Providence ne vous appelle pas à notre Institut. Suivez les
inspirations de la grâce ».
Dans une lettre à ses
parents, Benoît écrit : « Je suis sorti le second jour d’octobre. Je regarde
cela comme un ordre de la Providence qui m’appelle à un état plus parfait. Ils
m’ont dit que c’était la main de Dieu qui me retirait de chez eux. Je
m’achemine donc vers la Trappe, ce lieu que je désire tant et depuis si
longtemps ».
Benoît frappe à la porte
de la Trappe de Sept-Fons après avoir parcouru 800 km à pied ! Admis comme
postulant à 22 ans, il prend l’habit et reçoit le nom de frère Urbain.
L’intensité de sa vie
spirituelle fait l’admiration et tout se déroule au mieux. Il semble avoir
trouvé paix et stabilité. Pourtant, une crise de scrupules le saisit, une
inquiétude qui l’envahit progressivement, le faisant douter de sa capacité à
répondre à l’appel de Dieu. Le maître des novices ne peut que constater la
fragilisation psychologique et physique du jeune frère, et, craignant pour son
équilibre, le fait admettre à l’infirmerie. Le 2 juillet 1770, l’abbé lui
déclare : « Dieu vous appelle ailleurs… ».
Benoît prend la route
Sur cette indication,
Benoît commence alors un périple incroyable où, de sanctuaire en sanctuaire, de
fatigues en enthousiasmes, il grandit en sainteté. Ses haillons, sa saleté, ses
longs cheveux et sa barbe clairsemée lui donnent une allure qui attire les
moqueries. Il fréquente les pauvres, les marginaux et fuit toute compassion
envers sa personne qu’il juge sans intérêt.
Une croix sur la
poitrine, un chapelet entourant son cou et un baluchon sur l’épaule contenant
l’Evangile, le bréviaire, l’Imitation de Jésus-Christ et la Règle de saint
Benoît, ce jeune pèlerin d’une grande austérité est bien déroutant pour les
hommes d’Eglise qu’il rencontre et qui essaient de discerner de quoi il
retourne. Impossible de le mettre « dans une case ».
Le 3 décembre 1770,
Benoît rejoint Rome, s’arrêtant dans chaque église. Il dort dans une
anfractuosité du Colisée. Donnant le pain reçu à ceux qu’il estime plus pauvres
que lui, il demeure à Rome jusqu’en 1771 puis se rend au sanctuaire marial de
Lorette où on le découvre absorbé dans la prière, inconscient de la foule qui
le bouscule. De basilique en église, on le voit séjourner à Naples, puis à
Bari. Au Mont Cassin, Benoît retrouve les traces de son saint patron et il prie
saint François à Assise. Il découvre la Suisse et ses sanctuaires, revient en
France, part en Allemagne, à Compostelle et s’arrête de nouveau à Lorette, où
il séjournera onze fois, ayant parcouru entre temps bien d’autres pays encore,
tels que l’Autriche ou la Pologne, par exemple.
À 28 ans, il rencontre le
père Temple qui, afin d’éprouver le jeune homme, le questionne sur les vérités
de la foi et les enseignements de l’Église. Suite à de longs entretiens, le
prêtre reconnaît la solidité et la profondeur de la foi de Benoît. Dans ses
notes il écrit : « Benoît-Joseph vit en continuelle union avec Dieu, et demeure
en Sa présence ».
Le dernier voyage…
Revenu à Rome avec un
oedème des jambes, Benoît est admis à l’hospice. Il y retrouve une vie de
groupe mais l’ambiance est loin d’être fraternelle ; on le malmène. Il passe
des heures dans l’église Sainte-Marie-des-Monts, à genoux, face au
Saint-Sacrement. Dans le quartier, tout le monde le connaît. Épuisé, Benoît
meurt le 16 avril 1783, un mercredi saint. Il venait d’avoir 35 ans.
À l’annonce de sa mort,
les enfants courent dans la ville en criant : « Le saint est mort, le saint est
mort ! ». Tous se bousculent pour toucher son corps, s’emparer d’un morceau de
son vêtement. Sa dépouille est transportée à Sainte-Marie-des Monts sous les
applaudissements. Il faut faire appel aux gardes pour contenir l’enthousiasme
de la foule. Les offices du Carême doivent être provisoirement interrompus !
Les miracles se multiplient.
Moins d’un mois après sa
mort, le procès de béatification est ouvert. Benoît-Joseph sera canonisé le 8
décembre 1881.
Une trajectoire austère
mais remplie de compassion
Après avoir parcouru plus
de trente mille kilomètres, Benoît n’aura pas été plus épargné dans sa vie
quotidienne que dans la recherche de sa voie spirituelle. Il a choisi de
répondre à l’appel du Fils de l’Homme qui « n’a pas su où reposer la tête » (Mt
8, 20).
Progressivement, il a compris qu’il n’avait plus à envisager de lieu, à imaginer une forme de vie bien déterminée. Les limites de son cloître sont les quatre coins de l’horizon. Benoît a suivi fidèlement les « inspirations de la Grâce ». Nourri de la Parole, épris de silence, uni au Christ avec qui il marche et à toute l’humanité pour qui il avance, il a pris les chemins de traverse où il rejoint toute personne désorientée, marquée par les échecs ou qui se sent exclue, pour la conduire au Christ qui est le Chemin, la Vérité et la Vie.
SOURCE : http://www.mavocation.org/vocation/saints/2099-saint-benoit-joseph-labre.html
Oeuvre
de A. Bergès peintre-vitrailliaste à Toulouse (deuxième moitié du XIX° siècle).
Saint Benoît-Joseph Labre
Aîné des quinze enfants
de paysans aisés d'Amettes (Pas-de-Calais), Benoît-Joseph Labre, né le 26 mars
1748, après avoir fréquenté l'école de son village, fit quelques études auprès
d'un de ses oncles paternels, curé de Erin ; attiré par la prière et la solitude,
il voulut d'abord être trappiste, mais devant l'opposition de sa famille, il
renonça pour entrer chez les Chartreux du Val-Sainte-Aldegonde. Agité, soumis
aux tentations et à l'angoisse, les Chartreux ne le gardèrent pas ; il essaya
sans plus de succés la Grande Trappe, la chartreuse de Neuville et l'abbaye de
Sept-Fons où il reçut l'habit (novembre 1769).
Passé en Italie, il
comprit que Dieu l'appelait à la solitude totale et, dans une pauvreté absolue,
il entreprit un vaste pélerinage à travers tous les lieux vénérés d'Europe. A
part un pélerinage à Lorette, il passa les six dernières années de sa vie à
Rome, dans les ruines du Colisée ; ramassé évanoui sur les marches de l'église
de la Madona dei Monti, il fut recueilli dans l'arrière-boutique d'un boucher
où il mourut le Mercredi Saint, 16 avril 1783. Enseveli à gauche du
maître-autel de la Madona dei Monti, Dieu permit plus de cent miracles par son
intercession ; son confesseur, l'abbé Marconi, publie sa biographie (1783) et
l'abbé Stuter collationne ses souvenirs en Suisse, en Allemagne et en
Franche-Comté (1789). Béatifié par Pie IX en 1860, il est canonisé par Léon
XIII le 8 décembre 1881.
"Pour aimer
Dieu"
Pour aimer Dieu
convenablement il faut trois cœurs en un seul.
Le premier doit être tout
de feu envers Dieu et nous faire penser continuellement à Dieu, parler
habituellement de Dieu, agir constamment pour Dieu, et surtout supporter avec
patience le mal qu'il lui plaît de nous envoyer pendant toute la durée de notre
vie.
Le second doit être tout
de chair envers le prochain et nous porter à l'aider dans ses besoins temporels
par les aumônes, et plus encore dans ses besoins spirituels par l'instruction,
le conseil, l'exemple et la prière ; il doit surtout s'attendrir pour les
pécheurs, et plus particulièrement pour les ennemis, et demander au Seigneur de
les éclairer pour les amener à la pénitence ; il doit aussi être plein d'une
pieuse compassion pour les âmes du purgatoire, afin que Jésus et Marie daignent
les introduire au lieu du repos.
Le troisième doit être
tout de bronze pour soi-même et faire abhorrer toute sorte de sensualité,
résister sans relâche à l'amour de soi, abjurer la volonté propre, châtier le
corps par le jeûne et l'abstinence, et dompter toutes les inclinations de la
nature corrompue : car plus vous haïrez et plus vous maltraiterez votre chair,
plus grande sera votre récompense dans l'autre vie.
St Benoît-Joseph
SOURCE : http://missel.free.fr/Sanctoral/04/16.php
Buste
de Saint Benoît Labre, Basilique Saint Sernin, Toulouse
Reliquary
bust in Basilica
of Saint-Sernin, Toulouse
Saint Benoît-Joseph Labre
1748-1783
Fête le 16 avril
Aîné d'une famille de
quinze enfants d'un laboureur d'Amettes dans le nord de la France, il est
accueilli à l'âge de douze ans chez son oncle le curé d'Erin, qui lui donne une
éducation visant son entrée au Séminaire. Mais il renonce à la prêtrise, «
ayant peur de perdre son âme en sauvant celle des autres ». Mais il rêve d'être
moine pour ne vivre que de Dieu. A 19 ans, il se présente dans plusieurs monastères
de chartreux mais son jeune âge et sa santé fragile lui valent d'accumuler les
refus et ce malgré sa vocation. La Grande Trappe de Sept-Fons ne l'accepte pas
non plus et le Père Abbé lui dit : « Dieu vous veut ailleurs ». Il prend
l'habit religieux à l'Abbaye Notre Dame de Sept-Fons en 1769. Il doit quitter
l'abbaye quand il tombe malade. Il se rend alors à Paray-le-Monial, puis à
l'approche de Lyon, à Dardilly, Pierre Vianney, qui est le grand-père de celui
qui allait devenir Saint Jean-Marie Vianney, offre son hospitalité à ce
vagabond. Car, rejeté de toute part, Benoît-Joseph Labre a finalement choisi
une vie de mendiant et de pèlerin, allant de sanctuaires en sanctuaires.
Désormais c'est ailleurs qu'il vit, dans l'errance et le pèlerinage perpétuel.
Il ne cherche plus à se fixer. Son monastère est la route et Dieu son seul
compagnon de prière. Benoît devient alors pèlerin perpétuel, pauvre entre les
plus pauvres, allant à pied de sanctuaire en sanctuaire. Il évite les auberges
et emprunte les routes peu fréquentées, un chapelet en main, un crucifix sur la
poitrine et sur l’épaule un petit sac contenant l’Évangile, l’Imitation de
Jésus-Christ et le bréviaire Il dort sous les haies ou dans des granges,
parfois sous l’abri d’une église. Il demande à Dieu d’ajouter à ses hardes un
silice: de la vermine qui le torture sans relâche. Il essuie des rebuffades,
reçoit pierres et quolibets, mais finit par atteindre Rome. En sept ans, il
parcoure près de 30.000 kilomètres d'un sanctuaire à l'autre, en Espagne, en
Suisse, en Allemagne et jusqu'en Pologne, vivant dans le plus extrême
dénuement, partageant avec les pauvres, les soupes populaires et les
humiliations. Le produit de sa mendicité va le plus souvent à d'autres pauvres,
ce qui lui vaut une réputation de sainteté. Ainsi le voit-on chanter à tue-tête
les litanies de la Sainte Vierge près du soupirail d'une prison et donner aux
prisonniers les pièces qu'on lui avait jetées par charité. Au cours d'un
pèlerinage à Assise, il devient membre du tiers-ordre de Saint François. Il
fait également vœu de ne pas se laver, par mortification. Son absence d’hygiène
et sa vermine sont devenus proverbiaux. Son errance perpétuelle, plus commune
au Moyen Age, âge d'or des grands pèlerinages, est, au 18e siècle, en décalage
avec l'époque des Lumières, ce qui ajoute à sa sainteté. Les prêtres qui le
confessent sont émerveillés par sa vie mystique et son humilité. Il fait un
pèlerinage à Rome, où il arrive en décembre 1770, puis se rend à Saint Jacques
de Compostelle en 1773, de nouveau à Rome en 1774, et à Lorette en 1777. Il se
fixe à Rome l'année suivante. L’Italie adopte ce « saint Français » vêtu de
haillons qui passe des heures en méditation et en prière, ne mendie pas mais
accepte ce qu’on lui donne, ne garde que le minimum nécessaire et distribue le
reste à de plus pauvres. A Rome il loge avec tant d'autres pauvres dans les
ruines du Colisée. Dans les rues, les enfants se moquent de lui. Il les entend
et rend grâces à Dieu. Il vécut six ans dans les ruines du Colisée, avant de
mourir à 35 ans, le 16 avril 1783 (un mercredi saint), au domicile d'un boucher
qui l'avait trouvé évanoui sur les marches de l'église Notre Dame des Monts
(connue également sous le nom de Santa Maria ai Monti). Dès sa mort connue, les
enfants et le peuple de Rome s'en vont par les rues en criant: « Le saint est
mort ! ». Son enterrement à l'église de la Madonna dei Monti donna lieu à des
manifestations de foi populaire, et son corps reposa sous une pierre de marbre.
Les miracles se multiplient sur son tombeau. Il est béatifié par Pie IX en 1860
et canonisé par Léon XIII en 1881. Le masque mortuaire du saint est conservé
dans l'église d'Amettes.
Écrits
Lettres à ses parents
À Montreuil, ce 2 octobre 1769.
Mon très cher père et ma
très chère mère,
je vous apprends que les
chartreux ne m'ont pas jugé propre pour leur état; j'en suis sorti le second
jour d'octobre. Je regarde cela comme un ordre de la Providence qui m'appelle à
un état plus parfait. Ils m'ont dit que c'était la main de Dieu qui me retirait
de chez eux. Je m'achemine vers la Trappe, ce lieu que je désire tant et depuis
si longtemps. Je vous demande pardon de toutes les désobéissances et de toutes
les peines que je vous ai causées. Je vous prie l'un et l'autre de me donner
votre bénédiction, afin que le Seigneur m'accompagne. Je prierai le bon Dieu
pour vous tous les jours de ma vie. Surtout ne soyez pas inquiets à mon égard.
Quand j'aurais voulu rester dans ce couvent, on ne m'y aurait pas reçu; c'est
pourquoi je me réjouis beaucoup de ce que le Tout-Puissant me conduit. Ayez
soin de l'instruction de mes frères et sœurs, et surtout de mon filleul.
Maintenant la grâce de Dieu, je ne vous coûterai plus jamais rien et ne vous
ferai plus aucune peine. Je me recommande à vos prières. Je me porte bien et je
n'ai pas donné d'argent au domestique. Je ne suis sorti qu'après avoir
fréquenté les sacrements. Servons toujours le bon Dieu et Il ne nous
abandonnera pas. Ayez soin de votre salut. Lisez et pratiquez ce qu'enseigne le
Père l'Aveugle; c'est un livre qui enseigne le chemin du ciel et, sans faire ce
qu'il dit, il n'y a pas de salut à espérer. Méditez les peines effroyables de
l'enfer, que l'on y endure une éternité tout entière pour un seul péché mortel
qu'on commet si aisément. Efforcez-vous d'être du petit nombre des élus. Je
vous remercie de toutes les bontés que vous avez eues pour moi et des services
que vous m'avez rendus. Le bon Dieu vous en récompensera. Procurez à mes frères
et sœurs la même éducation que vous m'avez donnés; c'est le moyen de les rendre
heureux dans le ciel : sans instruction on ne peut se sauver. Je vous assure
que vous êtes déchargés de moi. Je vous ai beaucoup coûté; mais soyez assurés
que moyennant la grâce de Dieu, je profiterai de tout ce que vous avez fait
pour moi. Ne vous affligez point de ce que je suis sorti de chez les chartreux;
il ne vous est pas permis de résister à la volonté de Dieu qui en a ainsi
disposé pour mon plus grand bien et pour mon salut. Je vous prie de faire mes
compliments à mes frères et sœurs. Accordez-moi vos bénédictions; je ne vous
ferai plus aucune peine, Le bon Dieu que j'ai reçu avant de sortir, m'assistera
et me conduira dans l'entreprise qu'il m'a inspiré. J'aurai toujours la crainte
de Dieu devant les yeux et son amour dans le cœur". J'espère fort être
reçu à la Trappe. En tout cas, on m'assure que l'ordre de Sept-Fons n'est pas
si rude et qu'on y reçoit plus jeune; mais je serai reçu à la trappe.
Votre humble serviteur,
Benoît-Joseph Labre
***
Mon très cher père, ma
très chère mère,
vous avez appris que je
suis sorti de Sept-Fons, et vous êtes sans doute en peine de savoir quelle
route j'ai prise depuis, et quel état de vie j'ai envie d'embrasser. C'est pour
m'acquitter de mon devoir et vous tirer d'inquiétude que je vous écris cette
présente; je vous dirai donc que je suis sorti de Sept-Fons le 2 de juillet.
J'avais encore la fièvre quand je suis parti et elle m'a quitté au quatrième
jour de marche; et j'ai pris le chemin de Rome. Je suis bientôt à présent à
moitié du chemin; je n'ai guère avancé depuis que je suis sorti de Sept Fons,
parce que pendant le mis d'août il fait de grandes chaleurs dans le Piedmont où
je suis; et que j'ai été retenu pendant trois semaines dernièrement dans un
hôpital, où j'ai été assez bien, par une petite maladie que j'ai eue. Au reste
je me suis bien porté depuis que je suis sorti de Sept-Fons. Il y a en Italie
plusieurs monastères où la vie est fort régulière et fort austère. J'ai dessein
d'entrer dans quelqu'un et j'espère que Dieu m'en fera la grâce. J'en sais même
un de monastère, de l'ordre de la Trappe, dont l'abbé a écrit à un abbé de
France que s'il allait des Français dans son abbaye, qu'il les recevrait parce
qu'il lui manquait des sujets. J'ai tiré de bons certificats de Sept-Fons. Je
ne manquerai pas de vous envoyer de mes nouvelles; je voudrais bien en avoir
des vôtres, et de mes frères et sœurs. Mais cela n'est pas possible à présent,
parce que je ne suis pas arrêté dans un lieu fixe. Je ne manque pas de prier
Dieu pour vous tous les jours; je vous demande pardon de toutes les peines que
je peux vous avoir causées et vous prie de m'accorder vos bénédictions, afin
que Dieu bénisse mes desseins. C'est par l'ordre de sa Providence que j'ai
entrepris le voyage que je fais. Ayez soin surtout de votre salut, et de
l'éducation de mes frères et sœurs. Veillez sur leur conduite. Pensez aux
flammes éternelles de l'enfer et au petit nombre des élus. Je suis bien content
d'avoir entrepris le voyage que je fais. Je vous pris de faire mes compliments
à ma grand mère et mon grand père, à mes tantes, à mon frère Jacques, à mes
frères et sœurs, et à mon oncle Chois. Je vais entrer dans un pays où il fait
bon pour les voyageurs. Il m'a fallu affranchir la lettre pour sortir des États
du Roi de Sardaigne, tant qu'elle fut arrivée en France. Je finis en vous
demandant derechef vos bénédictions, et pardon des chagrins que je vous ai
occasionnés. Fait en la ville de Quiers en Piedmont, ce 31 août 1770.
Votre très affectionné
fils,
Benoît-Joseph Labre.
À l'exception des deux
lettres adressées à ses parents, nous avons très peu de paroles attribuées à
Benoît Labre. Son propos le plus célèbre est sa réponse à la question :
«Comment devons-nous aimer Dieu ?» — «Pour aimer Dieu, il faut trois cœurs en
un seul. Le premier doit être de feu envers Dieu et nous faire penser
continuellement à lui, agir constamment pour lui. Le deuxième doit être de
chair envers le prochain et nous porter à l'aider dans ses besoins spirituels
par l'instruction, le conseil, l'exemple et la prière. Il doit surtout
s'attendrir pour les pécheurs. Le troisième doit être de bronze pour soi-même
et résister sans relâche à un amour égoïste de soi.»
_%C3%A9glise_Saint-Sulpice%2C_reliquaire_lit_de_mort_Saint_Beno%C3%AEt.JPG)
Reliquaire
lit de mort Saint Benoît, église Saint-Sulpice, Amettes (Pas-de-Calais, Fr)
Prière pour la protection
des maisons
En 1771, Benoît-Joseph
Labre était en pèlerinage à Fabriano, dans la région des Appenins, en Italie,
et pour remercier la famille Fiordi qui l'avait chaleureusement accueilli, il
écrivit cette prière en latin, assurant que « Si vous récitez avec foi cette
prière, votre maison et les demeures voisines seront préservées de la foudre,
de l'incendie et des tremblements de terre ».
Jésus-Christ, roi de
gloire est venu en paix.
Dieu s'est fait homme. Le
Verbe s'est fait chair.
Jésus-Christ, né de la
Vierge Marie.
Jésus-Christ allait en
paix au milieu d'eux.
Jésus-Christ a été
crucifié.
Jésus-Christ est mort.
Jésus-Christ a été
enseveli.
Jésus-Christ est
ressuscité.
Jésus-Christ est monté au
Ciel.
Jésus-Christ triomphe.
Jésus-Christ règne.
Jésus-Christ gouverne.
Que Jésus-Christ nous
délivre de tout mal.
Jésus-Christ est avec
nous.
Notre Père, je Vous salue
Marie, Gloire au Père.
« Neuf ans après (le
passage du saint ndlr), le jour de la Pentecôte 1731, lors du tremblement de
terre qui dévasta la ville de Fabriano, les maisons des Fiordi et des Rocca
furent épargnées. Cette préservation fut attribuée à la vertu de la prière du
Saint Pauvre et celle-ci connut une vogue universelle: elle fut imprimée et
répandue partout; beaucoup en portaient sur eux un exemplaire comme protection;
tout le monde voulait enn voir l'autographe, conservé comme un joyau de trix
par les trois soeurs ».
D'après le Saint
Pauvre de Jésus-Christ, Benoît-Joseph Labre, de François Gaquère, aux Ed. Marie
Médiatrice/ Apostolat de la Presse, 1954
Prière du matin
retrouvée dans ses
papiers personnels après sa mort
Dieu créateur du ciel et de la terre, mon aimable Sauveur, je vous remercie de l'amour immense que vous avez eu non seulement pour moi, mais pour tout le monde. Je vous aime par-dessus toutes choses, et je veux vous aimer toute cette journée, ainsi que tous les instants de ma vie; je vous prie de m'aider à faire votre sainte volonté, et je vous prie continuellement pour tous les infidèles et les pécheurs; je veux vous prier toute cette journée pour eux, afin que vous daigniez les éclairer et les faire entrer dans votre grâce. Je veux encore gagner les indulgences que je peux obtenir pour délivrer les âmes du purgatoire; enfin, ayez pitié des infidèles et des pécheurs. Accordez-moi, ô mon Dieu, votre amour, imprimez en mon coeur les marques de votre cruelle passion. Je vous aime, mon divin Jésus, et je vous donne mon cœur. Sainte Vierge, préservez-moi dans ce jour et tous ceux de ma vie, de tout péché, afin que je ne perde point l'amour de mon Dieu, que je veux aimer tous les jours et tous les moments de vie. Je vous rends grâce, Vierge sainte, au nom de tous les fidèles, du grand amour que vous leur portez; je vous remercie encore pour tous les fidèles et les pécheurs, aidez-les, assistez-les, afin qu'ils retournent à leur aimable Dieu; soyez le secours de tous dans cette journée et toujours.
Prière composée par saint Benoît Labre
Père éternel, par le sang de Jésus miséricorde : consolez-nous dans le besoin
et les tribulations, comme vous avez consolé Job, Anne et Tobie dans leurs
afflictions; et Vous, Marie, priez et apaisez Dieu pour nous, et obtenez-nous
la grâce qu'humblement nous Vous demandons.
Litanies de saint Benoît-Joseph Labre
Seigneur, ayez pitié de nous.
Jésus-Christ, ayez pitié de nous.
Seigneur, ayez pitié de nous,
Jésus-Christ, écoutez-nous.
Jésus-Christ, exaucez-nous
Père céleste, qui êtes Dieu, ayez pitié de nous.
Fils rédempteur du monde qui êtes Dieu, ayez pitié de nous.
Esprit Saint, qui êtes Dieu, ayez pitié de nous.
Trinité Sainte, qui êtes un seul Dieu, ayez pitié de nous.
Sainte Marie, patronne de saint Benoît-Joseph, priez pour nous.
Saint Benoît-Joseph, prédestiné du ciel, priez pour nous.
Saint Benoît-Joseph, enfant de bénédiction, priez pour nous.
Saint Benoît-Joseph, plein d’amour pour Dieu, priez pour nous.
Saint Benoît-Joseph, vrai disciple de Jésus-Christ,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, temple très pur de l’Esprit-Saint,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, fidèle à la grâce,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, fervent dans la prière,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, contempteur du monde,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, exemple d’humilité,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, abject à vos propres yeux,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, heureux dans les opprobres,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, pèlerin sur la terre,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, vivant sans asile,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, pauvre volontaire,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, dépouillé de tout,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, charitable pour les autres,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, zélé pour le salut de vos frères,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, amant de la croix,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, héros de la pénitence,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, passionné pour les souffrances,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, avide de mortification,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, admirable de patience,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, doué d’une pureté angélique,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, dévot des quarante-heures,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, adorateur constant de l’Eucharistie,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, zélé serviteur de Marie,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, imitateur de saint François d’Assise,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, gloire nouvelle de l’église d’Arras,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, puissant dans le ciel,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, par votre glorification,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, par votre crédit auprès de Dieu,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, par les miracles accordés à votre intercession,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, par votre ardente charité,
Saint Benoît-Joseph, par tous vos mérites,
Agneau de Dieu qui effacez les péchés du monde, pardonnez-nous, Seigneur.
Agneau de Dieu qui effacez les péchés du monde, exaucez-nous, Seigneur.
Agneau de Dieu qui effacez les péchés du monde, ayez pitié de nous.
Priez pour nous, saint Benoît-Joseph,
Afin que nous devenions
dignes des promesses de Notre Seigneur Jésus-Christ.
Prions
O Dieu, qui nous offrez
dans la personne de saint Benoît-Joseph Labre, votre fidèle serviteur, un
nouveau modèle de la perfection évangélique, accordez-nous par son intercession
la grâce de suivre ses exemples et de vous aimer, comme lui, de tout notre
cœur, afin que, par le mépris de nous-mêmes et de tout ce qui se passe, nous
parvenions au bonheur de l’éternité. Nous vous en prions par Notre-Seigneur
Jésus-Christ. Ainsi soit-il.
Reliques
de saint Benoit Labre (os du crâne) lors de son passage dans la chapelle du
prieuré Stella Maris à Chaignes (Eure)
Prière à saint Benoît
Labre
Dieu qui a donné à saint
Benoît- Joseph Labre de mener une vie humble et pauvre, toute à l'image du
Christ, fais-nous emprunter les mêmes chemins pour suivre ton Fils et vivre
unis à toi, pleins de joie et de charité, en pèlerins du Royaume. Seigneur
Dieu, qui avez amené saint Benoît Labre à s'attacher à Vous seul par l'humilité
vraie et la pauvreté réelle, donnez-moi, grâce à ses mérites, de mépriser les
biens de la terre et de rechercher uniquement ceux du ciel. Ainsi-soit-il.
Saint Benoît Labre, qui passa en ce monde comme un pauvre pèlerin, brûlez mon cœur d'amour pour Jésus pauvre et crucifié.
Ainsi-soit-il.
SOURCE : http://spiritualitechretienne.blog4ever.com/blog/lirarticle-83937-1588610.html
Statue
de saint Benoit Labre lors de sa pérégrination vers Loures, église de Chaignes
(Eure)
Saint Benoît Labre…
par Emile Meunier
Le langage de la croix
est folie pour ceux qui se perdent mais pour ceux qui se sauvent c’est la force
de Dieu… nous nous proclamons le Christ crucifié, scandale pour les juifs,
folie pour les païens… (1Cor, 1 :18-23)
Un vagabond mystique au
siècle de Voltaire…
« Un exemple de paresse
et d’obscurantisme sanctifié sous prétexte qu’il était mort en état de crasse »
telle est la déclaration d’un sénateur français au moment de la canonisation de
Benoît Labre en 1881 par le pape Léon XIII. Qui était–il ? Grand saint ou grand
fou ? Un inadapté, un clochard (comme tant d’autres à l’époque) en décalage
avec son temps. Benoît Labre n’a rien fait de sa vie… C’est un vagabond qui a
marché sans cesse jusqu’à n’en plus pouvoir. Vêtu de haillons, mendiant et
errant. Il meurt à 35 ans, déclaré saint par le peuple de Rome.
La genèse de l’errance
Benoît Labre né le 26
mars 1748 à Amettes en Artois dans une famille de cultivateurs et de petits
commerçants. Son père Jean Baptiste travaille la terre. Sa mère, Anne Barbe Grandsir
tient commerce de mercerie au domicile. Benoît est l’aîné d’une fratrie de
quatorze frères et sœurs, dont cinq sont décédés en bas âge. Son oncle
paternel, François-Joseph, vicaire dans un village proche, devenant parrain du
nouveau-né dès le lendemain de sa naissance, célèbre le baptême. Benoît se
révèle comme un enfant discret, secret, assoiffé de solitude, de silence et
d’union à Dieu. Passant pour un original, il va vivre sa scolarité à l’école de
Nédon à quelques kilomètres d’Amettes. Sachant lire et écrire couramment à
l’âge de 12 ans, il va rejoindre son oncle François Joseph nommé curé d’Erin et
auprès de qui il demeurera 6 ans, apprenant le latin, jusqu’à sa mort en 1766.
Benoît est heureux auprès de cet oncle prêtre et vit ses années d’adolescence
dans l’angoisse. Sa vie intérieure et son côté apparemment renfermé
s’accentuent aux yeux de son environnement. Sa vie spirituelle se nourrit des
écrits théologiques et mystiques du frère dominicain espagnol Luis de Grenade
(XVIe siècle[1]) ainsi que de la lecture des dix volumes de sermons du Père
Lejeune, dit le « Père aveugle », oratorien du XVIIe siècle dont la
spiritualité est teintée de jansénisme[2]. A l’âge de 16 ans il prend distance
vis-à-vis des études au grand dam de ses parents et de son oncle qui compte
tenu de sa frêle constitution l’auraient orienté vers le sacerdoce. Benoît sait
qu’il n’est pas fait pour être prêtre mais désire être moine ou ermite. Son
projet se heurte à l’incompréhension de ses parents. En août 1766, une épidémie
de peste se déclare à Erin. L’oncle curé soigne les malades et assiste les
agonisants pendant que Benoit prend en charge le travail de la terre et le soin
des animaux laissés à eux-mêmes. L’oncle est contaminé à son tour par le
terrible mal et décède. Benoît, bouleversé, doit retourner à Amettes mais
obtient de garder en souvenir les sermons du père Lejeune. Les parents de
Benoît continuant de s’opposer à son projet de vie monastique le confient à un
autre de ses oncles, prêtre, l’abbé Vincent.
En 1766, Benoît se rend à
Courteville chez celui que ses parents appellent le nouveau monsieur Vincent.
Là, il se retrouve au milieu de quelques jeunes venus étudier auprès de son
oncle et qui font de lui le sujet de leurs moqueries à cause de son côté
renfermé et bigot. Il est profondément touché par l’exemple de détachement de
l’oncle Vincent, celui-ci non content de distribuer le moindre argent, voire
ses chaussures, en vient à donner un à un, chacun de ses pauvres meubles au
point d’être obligé de creuser un trou en terre battue de la salle commune,
afin de pouvoir s’asseoir lors du partage du repas. L’exemple de l’abbé Vincent
et la complicité spirituelle qui les unit confirment Benoît dans son désir
d’être moine. Lors d’une mission prêchée dans la paroisse au cours de l’été
1767, Benoît évoque son projet de vie monastique auprès des prédicateurs.
S’appuyant sur cet échange, il finit par gagner l’oncle Vincent à sa cause.
Celui-ci prudent, conseille Benoît de ne pas inquiéter ses parents en parlant
de la Trappe en leur présence. Il propose d’examiner la possibilité d’une vie
cartusienne, les Chartreux ayant des monastères dans la région…
L’errance de monastère en
monastère
En avril 1767, Benoît qui
vient d’avoir 19 ans obtient de ses parents de se rendre à la Chartreuse de
Longuenesse près de la ville de Saint Omer… Commence pour lui une longue
période de désolation parce que cette vocation que Benoît ressent en lui ne va
se dessiner que par ses propres échecs et ses rejets successifs. Il entame une
errance accablante d’une communauté à l’autre. A la chartreuse de Longuenesse,
le prieur le refuse par manque de place. Après quelques semaines de réflexion,
Benoît rejoint le monastère de Neuville près de Montreuil sur mer, nouvelle
déception, il est refusé parce que trop jeune. Le prieur lui conseille
d’apprendre le chant et de poursuivre ses études. Nous le retrouvons sur la
route de Montreuil en compagnie d’un autre garçon qui aspire à la vie
monastique. Cette fois-ci, tous deux sont admis. Après quelques semaines, en
proie à des crises d’angoisse, épuisé par ses scrupules et trop d’austérité, il
est renvoyé et reconduit chez ses parents. Bien que vivant cela comme un échec,
il ne se décourage pas. Se croyant appelé à la trappe, il se remet en route
vers le monastère de Soligny. Il y arrive le 25 novembre 1767. Tout son voyage
s’étant déroulé sous une pluie battante continuelle, il se présente au
monastère dans un état pitoyable. Il est tellement épuisé qu’il ne peut être
question de le garder, d’autant plus qu’il ne peut être admis au noviciat avant
l’âge de 24 ans. Après ces deux tentatives échouées, Benoît quitte ses parents
et son village d’Amettes qu’il ne reverra plus jamais pour rejoindre Montreuil
sur mer. Admis sans difficulté au monastère, Benoît se révèle à nouveau dans
l’incapacité d’assurer une vie communautaire. Son état dépressif s’accentue, le
conduisant à un quasi-mutisme. Le prieur le prie de quitter le monastère en lui
confiant ses paroles : « Allez, Dieu ne vous veut pas chez nous, suivez les
inspirations de la grâce »
Benoît se met route vers
ce qu’il considère comme son unique espoir : la trappe Notre Dame du Saint Lieu
à sept Fons, près de Moulin. Après avoir parcouru 800km à pied, il frappe à la
trappe de Sept-Fonts où il est admis comme postulant, le 11 novembre 1769, il
prend l’habit sous le nom de frère Urbain. Les moines admirent l’intensité de
la vie spirituelle de ce jeune frère dont chaque instant de liberté se passe
devant le saint sacrement. Cependant une inquiétude se fait jour face aux
privations et excès ascétiques non prévus par la règle que Benoît multiplie et
s’impose. Cet ascétisme exacerbé n’est-il pas un symptôme, une manifestation
d’un état dépressif, qui peu à peu, le submerge à nouveau. Benoît se retrouve
effectivement confronté aux tiraillements incessants du doute concernant sa
capacité à répondre à l’appel du Seigneur. Le maître des novices constatant le
délabrement psychologique et physique du jeune frère et craignant pour son
équilibre le fait admettre à l’infirmerie du monastère. Le deux juillet, Benoît
s’entend à nouveau dire de l’abbé qu’il lui est impossible de demeurer entre
ses murs en cet état de vie mais que « Dieu l’attend ailleurs »
Le détachement de tout
S’ensuit une longue
errance, choisie celle-ci, qui devient la vie de Benoît, au cours de laquelle
il se détache de tout. Il vit la réalité du vagabond sans argent, ni toit, ni
lien… Il marche inlassablement sur les chemins, dort dans les fossés, dans les
granges. Il a parcouru environ 30000Km à pied dans toute l’Europe de la France
en Espagne, de la Suisse à l’Italie (privilégiant les sanctuaires). Benoît vit
cette errance de façon radicale. Il n’a pas de compagnon, ni de domicile fixe.
Il vit dans la solitude et sur les chemins qui l’amènent vers des buts provisoires
(des sanctuaires) avant de repartir sur d’autres chemins. Il vit la
contemplation par le silence et la solitude, l’action par la marche
continuelle. Ses vêtements finiront en loques pleines de vermines. Comme
vêtement il gardera la tenue des novices cisterciens, le cordon des tertiaires
franciscains auquel pendent une écuelle en bois et une gourde, coiffé d’un
chapeau troué. Pour tout bagage, il a un crucifix, 2 chapelets, dont l’un
autour du coup, dans sa besace les 4 tomes du bréviaire, le Nouveau-Testament,
l’imitation de Jésus-Christ ainsi qu’une boîte en fer blanc qui contient ses
papiers (son acte de baptême)… Il devient mendiant…
En ce XVIIIe siècle, ou
pèlerins, paresseux cyniques et mauvais garçons roublards errent sur les mêmes
routes et tendent la main devant les édifices religieux, Benoît qui se présente
« je suis chrétien » avec ses haillons, ses longs cheveux, sa barbe clairsemée
est malmené, rejeté, accusé parfois emprisonné. Il fait partie d’un courant
mystique d’une donation qui se veut parfaite. Il reste proche du courant
franciscain… il connaît comme saint François cet Amour du créateur pour les
créatures, le dépouillement et la charité envers plus pauvre que lui. Il offre
sa vie dans la solitude et la prière marchant dans la chaleur ou sous la pluie
mangeant l’herbe des champs ou des épluchures qu’il est facile de trouver dans
les villes. Benoît rejoint la foule anonyme des ermites, des errants, des fols
en Christ. Il est le dernier de tous, il ne demande rien, il ne possède rien.
Il donne à ses compagnons les plus infortunés à qui personne ne fait l’aumône.
La vocation à l’essentiel
Benoît vit en opposition
au monde de son temps. Il est dans le monde et pas du monde. Il rejoint les
exclus, les laissés pour compte. Sa personnalité ne peut que choquer les
rationalistes de son temps. Le constat d’inutilité de sa vie apporte une raison
supplémentaire à sa condamnation par les biens pensants.
Benoît est étranger à ce
qui fait le siècle des lumières. Il est miséreux et humble et son action n’est
pas raisonnable aux yeux des sages de ce monde… « Fardeau inutile dans un monde
gagné par l’utilité et l’efficacité… » « C’est proprement ne valoir rien que de
n’être utile à personne » (Descartes). Dans un siècle où la civilisation de
l’avoir l’emporte, il faut avoir de l’argent, du pouvoir, une position sociale,
des biens matériels, de l’intelligence de la santé et de l’apparence… Benoît
n’a rien de tout cela, il n’a pas d’argent, pas d’apparence, il est au dernier
rang de la société… Il n’a jamais rien su faire que prier. En ce dix-huitième
siècle, épris de liberté, l’humanisme se construit sans Dieu et contre Dieu,
revendiquant l’autonomie de la raison. C’est l’époque de Voltaire, de
Montesquieu, des libertins, c’est l’époque de la parution de l’encyclopédie de
Diderot. C’est aussi l’époque d’un grand changement profond préparant la
Révolution française… six ans après la mort de Benoît Labre. Paradoxalement,
cette époque est aussi l’époque de la parution de l’encyclopédie spirituelle «
La philocalie » en grec et en slavon, c’est aussi le siècle de Païssy
Velichtchovsky [3] et de Séraphin de Sarov[4]… témoins expérimentant la
présence divine dans leur chair. Benoît semble être le frère jumeau du pèlerin
russe[5] en quête de la prière perpétuelle et du royaume de Dieu.
Benoît rejoint Rome le 3
décembre 1770, s’arrêtant dans chaque église, se recueillant dans les
catacombes, il trouve au Colisée, lieu de martyrs, sa niche… Il demeure à
Rome[6] passant son temps dans l’adoration du Saint Sacrement, mendiant et
redonnant du pain à ceux qu’il estime plus pauvres que lui. Il reprend la route
vers Lorette au printemps 1771, C’est à cette époque que Benoît quittant
Lorette entreprend un périple à travers l’Italie puis au-delà à travers
l’Europe.[7]De basilique en église, on le voit séjourner à Naples, puis à Bari
où il chante afin de gagner un peu de nourriture pour les prisonniers, au mont
Cassien, à Assises, en Suisse, en France, en Allemagne, en Espagne à
Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle et nouvel arrêt chaque fois à Lorette où il
séjournera 11 fois.
A Lorette, un jeune
clerc, Don Valeri, attaché à la basilique, le découvre absorbé dans sa relation
à Dieu, inconscient de la foule qui se presse et le bouscule. Frappé par son
dénuement et le détachement de Benoît, il décide un jour de l’aborder afin de
comprendre comment il vit. Benoît lui explique sa manière de vivre. Il refuse
humblement et fermement une aide financière et un lit. Don Valeri reverra
souvent Benoît, tiraillé par une incertitude : est-il un saint ou un fou ?...
Ce témoin lui révélera un jour le sens de la vie chrétienne : « pour aimer
Dieu, il faut trois cœurs : l’un brûlant d’Amour pour Dieu, le second plein de
compassion pour le prochain, le troisième, de bronze, rigoureux pour soi-même,
s’employant sans cesse à combattre volonté personnelle et amour-propre ».
Une autre rencontre va
fortement s’inscrire dans son existence. Benoît a 28 ans en 1776, il se dirige
vers un prêtre qui sort d’un confessionnal et demande à lui parler. Il s’agit
du père Temple[8] un prêtre conventuel français. Il le livre à un
interrogatoire sur les vérités de la foi et l’enseignement de l’Eglise. Il ne
peut que constater la solidité et la profondeur de sa vie spirituelle. Après
l’avoir entendu en confession, le père Temple ne doutera plus que le mystique
en guenilles soit un grand saint. Il lui demandera de venir le voir le plus
régulièrement possible, prenant note de tout ce qu’il entend, voit et comprend.
Il en arrivera à affirmer que Benoît vit en continuelle union avec Dieu et
demeure en sa présence.
En 1782, après avoir
souffert d’un dernier voyage dans la montagne, un certain père Almerici
l’entendant en confession, déposa plus tard que l’ayant interrogé : « Je
compris que Dieu l’avait élevé à une plus haute contemplation. Les mystères de
la passion étaient ceux qu’il se proposait le plus volontiers et, surtout, le
couronnement d’épines. Quand il appliquait son esprit à ce mystère, sans s’en
vouloir et sans s’en apercevoir, il était transporté à contempler le mystère de
la Sainte Trinité. » « Et que savez-vous, homme ignorant, d’un si sublime
mystère ? »Lui demande un jour Almerici, affectant d’un ton de mépris. « Je ne
sais rien, répondit Benoît, je suis transporté. »
L’Ultime voyage et
naissance au ciel
Ayant marché de
sanctuaire en sanctuaire dans l’Europe, il se replie sur Rome en 1777, épuisé
physiquement, couvert de vermine et avec un œdème dans les jambes. Il passe ses
journées en adoration d’églises en églises… Finalement, il se voit obliger
d’accepter l’asile de l’hospice pour la nuit quand il n’en peut plus. Il a vécu
jusqu’au bout de ce que vivent les vagabonds, les SDF, la perte de cet espace
qui est sa seule richesse et qui se restreint de plus en plus au fur et à
mesure que sa santé décline. Enfin Benoît n’a plus d’apparence, il est couvert
de vermines, nauséabond, en loques. En 1783, Benoît a une mauvaise toux, il
souffre des bronches et respire difficilement. Une dysenterie ne cesse de
l’affaiblir. Il accepte l’hospitalité de la famille Zaccarelli à Rome (un
boucher et sa femme) à condition de n’être nourri que des restes et ne point
avoir d’argent. Nous sommes en Carême, ses amis craignent pour lui, le voyant
chanceler à chaque pas et n’avancer qu’en se tenant aux murs. En dépit des
vertiges et des évanouissements, il continue ses dévotions. Le 14 avril, un
mercredi saint, il meurt entouré de ses amis, des errants et des clochards. Il
venait d’avoir 35 ans. L’annonce de sa mort se répand comme une traînée de
poudre. : « E morto il santo » ce cri spontané se répand à la vitesse de
l’éclair. Un chirurgien examine le cadavre, le défunt a un aspect naturel et le
corps n’exhale aucune mauvaise odeur. Sa popularité est instantanée dans toute
l’Europe. Son corps est transporté à l’Eglise sainte Marie des monts. Le soir
de Pâques, son corps sera déposé dans son tombeau. Le 6 juin 1783 commence son
procès de béatification. 168 miracles sont mentionnés. Il sera béatifié par Pie
IX le 20 mai 1860 et canonisé le 8 décembre 1881 par Léon XIII.
Alors que les
anticléricaux critiquent l’Eglise d’avoir canonisé Benoît Labre, deux grands
poètes lui rendront hommage : Paul Verlaine et Germain Nouveau qui tous deux se
rendront en pèlerinage à Amettes pour y prier.
Signification spirituelle
de la vie de Benoît Labre
Comment comprendre la
sainteté de Benoît Labre en ce 18ème siècle ? Comment comprendre que l’Eglise
(romaine) [9] ait pu canoniser ce personnage hideux se complaisant dans la
crasse ? Acte déraisonnable aux yeux des tenants de la lumière de la raison. Ce
siècle est le siècle de la révélation de l’homme. L’homme est libre et la
Raison est sa seule règle. Il doit donc s’affranchir de tout ce qui l’empêche
d’être autonome et sujet... il doit s’affranchir de Dieu, du roi, de
l’esclavage, de toute tyrannie. Il doit se libérer de la superstition et de
l’obscurantisme religieux. L’homme est souverain et ses droits excluent toute
autorité de droit divin. Si L’homme ne peut pas choisir sa condition, s’il ne
peut pas choisir son destin, si les jeux sont faits, s’il est condamné à
dérouler un programme tout établi alors la vie ne vaut pas la peine d’être
vécue. Si la vie est sérieuse, si la vie a du sens, il faut que notre destin
soit entre nos mains, il faut qu’aucune puissance ni au ciel[10] ni sur la
terre, ne puisse jamais nous traiter comme des objets. Et ce qui paraît une
révolte blasphématoire et démoniaque, c’est simplement la conscience que
l’homme est sujet. Cette révolte n’est pas autre chose que la conscience de ne
pas être un objet. C’est la conscience qu’il a d’être sujet, comme d’un être
qui doit être l’origine et la source de ses actes et créateur de son existence
humaine en tant qu’humain. Tels sont les idéaux des philosophes des
lumières.[11] Le Dieu de ces philosophes ne devient plus qu’un Dieu extérieur,
mécanique, premier moteur et non plus un Dieu-personne. Mais ce que n’ont pas
perçu ces philosophes des lumières, c’est qu’il y a une révolte plus profonde
encore, plus essentielle, plus radicale qui est la révolte contre nous-mêmes
sous le joug d’une tyrannie intérieure. Car le siècle des lumières est aussi le
siècle de la renaissance philocalique, d’un humanisme chrétien, qui propose un
chemin de libération et de communion avec Dieu qui loin de l’écraser le
divinise. C’est ce chemin que fait Benoît Labre ainsi que tous les spirituels…
Par ce chemin l’homme doit apprendre à lutter contre son moi possessif, ses
instincts, ses passions[12], ce moi infantile qui l’empêche de s’ouvrir à
autrui et à plus grand que lui… Chez Benoît Labre, il n’y a plus de retour sur
soi, il est pur élan vers Dieu… (Je suis emporté). Le père Temple dira qu’il
brûle de charité. Benoît d’ailleurs quand il rencontrera le père Temple, il lui
demande d’être sous son obédience (et non sous son obéissance) ce qui n’est pas
soumission mais écoute humble afin de discerner la justesse de sa vie. Il vit
continuellement en présence de Dieu (abîmé-effacé- dans l’adoration
eucharistique). Benoît Labre a vécu sa nouvelle naissance, il est né de la
liberté, né de la lumière, né de l’esprit et de la vérité… Il a quitté son
rivage de servitude, il s’est arraché à ce tyran intérieur, son moi biologique
pour vivre une rencontre unique avec la liberté divine. Le royaume de Dieu
s’est accompli en lui. Il vit Dieu, il le respire, il le vit au-dedans de lui
dans une relation nuptiale, Dieu l’illumine et le divinise[13]. C’est dans
cette liberté et dans son dépouillement dépassant ses angoisses et ses
scrupules que Dieu atteste sa présence. Nous pouvons nous questionner quant à
l’excès ascétique de Benoît qui est à situer dans le contexte de la piété
chrétienne catholique du XVIIIe siècle… Cette piété[14] met l’accent sur la
méditation de la passion du Christ de ses souffrances pour la rédemption de
l’humanité occultant le mystère de la résurrection chère à l’orthodoxie.
L’excès de Benoît est à mettre en corrélation avec son Amour pour le Christ
souffrant et sa compassion pour les plus pauvres que lui [15]. Un jour que le
Père Temple lui parlait des plaies du sauveur, Benoît s’écria comme transporté
: « O plaies capables de blesser des cœurs de pierre et d’enflammer
infailliblement des âmes de glace ! »
Il atteste ainsi que le
miséreux qui n’a rien présente une valeur inestimable parce qu’il est un être
humain tout simplement [16]. Et c’est cet être à l’image de Dieu qui est perçu
tel par les pauvres qui l’approchent. Il montre qu’au dernier degré de la
déchéance physique et psychique quand l’homme n’a plus rien, il lui reste
l’essentiel, son être, image de Dieu. C’est cet Amour de Dieu qui l’a créé,
aimé, sauvé qui lui confie une dignité indépendante de tout avoir et du faire.
Benoît Labre nous invite à comprendre, à percevoir que la vie chrétienne c’est
avant tout une Présence, un cadeau, que Dieu n’est pas un tyran extérieur mais
une Lumière. Il témoigne par sa vie d’une autre focalisation que celle de
l’argent, il initie une saine révolte prophétique contre l’utilitarisme
naissant à cette époque (économie, capitalisme…) [17] Le plus pauvre, celui qui
n’est rien aux yeux de ce monde, qui n’a rien, est sujet de la sollicitude de
Dieu. Benoît n’a pas fait de propagande, ni de catéchisme [18], il n’a pas
encombré les autres de convictions mais il a laissé rayonné une présence, il
l’a laissé transparaître et de la présenter gracieusement sans rien dire et il
a entouré chaque être humain et particulièrement les plus pauvres de cet
honneur divin. Une femme le voyant un jour perdu en Dieu se répétait : « Oh
bienheureux ! Qui sait ce que tu vois ? »
Statue
de Saintf Benoît Joseph Labre, cathédrale Notre-Dame, Boulogne-sur-Mer
Canonisé par les poètes
Il est interpellant de
constater que des hommes, des poètes aient une affection, voire même une
dévotion pour ce saint en qui ils se reconnaissent. Ils ont perçu le secret de
Benoît, cette présence et cette lumière qui ne peuvent s’exprimer que dans la
poésie qui laisse entrevoir le mystère profond du cœur de l’homme. Les poètes
Verlaine et Germain Nouveau lui feront un hommage à travers leur poème à l’occasion
de sa canonisation. Ils se rendront même en pèlerinage à Amettes à cette
occasion.
« Saint Benoît-Joseph
Labre, la seule gloire française du XVIIIème siècle, mais quelle gloire ! »
Verlaine (1844 – 1896)
SAINT BENOÎT-JOSEPH LABRE
Comme l'Église est bonne,
en ce siècle de haine
D'orgueil et d'avarice et
de tous les péchés,
D'exalter aujourd'hui le
caché des cachés
Le doux entre les doux à
l'Ignorance humaine.
Et le mortifié sans pair
que la Foi mène
Saignant de pénitence et
blanc d'extase, chez
Les peuples et les saints
qui, tous sens détachés,
Fit de la Pauvreté son
épouse et sa reine,
Comme un autre Alexis,
comme un autre François
Et fut le Pauvre affreux,
angélique, à la fois
Pratiquant la douceur,
l'horreur de l'Évangile !
Et pour ainsi montrer au
monde qu'il a tort
Et que les pieds crus
d'or et d'argent sont d'argile
Comme l'Église est bonne
et que Jésus est fort !
(Paul Verlaine – «
Souvenirs » 1881)
Roma, chiesa di Santa Maria ai Monti
Roma, chiesa di Santa Maria ai Monti
Roma, piazza della Madonna dei Monti. Di fronte il fianco della chiesa su via dei Serpenti e via Baccina.
Roma, chiesa di Santa Maria ai Monti
Roma, chiesa di Santa Maria ai Monti
San
Benedetto Giuseppe Labre ai Monti, Open Street Map 2019
C'est Dieu qui conduisait
à Rome,
Mettant un bourdon dans
sa main,
Ce saint qui ne fut qu'un
pauvre homme,
Hirondelle de grand
chemin,
Qui laissa tout, son coin
de terre,
Sa cellule solitaire,
Et la soupe du monastère,
Et son banc qui chauffe
au soleil,
Sourd à son siècle, à ses
oracles,
Accueilli des seuls
tabernacles,
Mais vêtu du don des
miracles
Et coiffé du nimbe
vermeil (...).
Fière statue
enchanteresse
De l'autorité que Dieu
dresse
Au bout du siècle de
l'ivresse
Au seuil du siècle de
l'argent (...).
Beau paysan, ange
d'Amettes,
Ayant aujourd'hui pour
trépieds
La lune au ciel et la
comète,
Et tous les soleils sous
vos pieds ;
Couvert d'odeurs
délicieuses,
Vous, qui dormiez sous
les yeuses
Vous, que l'Eglise aux
mains pieuses
Peint sur l'autel et le
guidon,
Priez pour nos âmes, ces
gouges,
Et pour que nos cœurs,
las des bouges,
Lavent leurs péchés noirs
et rouges
Dans les piscines du
pardon.
Aimez bien vos amours ;
aimez l'amour qui rêve
Une rose à la lèvre et
des fleurs dans les yeux
C'est Lui que vous
cherchez quand votre avril se lève,
Lui dont reste un parfum
quand vos ans se font vieux.
Aimez l'amour qui joue au
soleil des peintures,
sous l'azur de la Grâce,
autour de ses autels,
Et qui déroule au ciel la
tresse et les ceintures,
Ou qui vide un carquois
sur des cœurs immortel
Aimez l'amour qui parle
avec la lenteur basse
Des Ave Maria chuchotés
sous l'arceau ;
C'est lui que vous priez
quand votre tête est lasse,
Lui dont la voix vous
rend le rythme du berceau.
Aimez l'amour que Dieu
souffla sur notre fange,
Aimez l'amour aveugle,
allumant son flambeau,
Aimez l'amour rêvé qui
ressemble à notre ange,
Aimez l'amour promis aux
cendres du tombeau !
Amour sur l'océan, amour
sur les collines !
Amour dans les grands lys
qui montent vallons !
Amour dans la parole et
les brises câlines !
Amour dans la prière et
sur les violons !
Amour dans tous les coeurs
et sur toutes les lèvres !
Amour dans tous les bras,
amour au bout des doigts !
Amour dans tous les seins
et dans toutes les fièvres !
Amour dans tous les yeux
et dans toutes les voix !
Amour dans chaque ville :
ouvrez-vous citadelles !
Amour dans les chantiers
: travailleurs, à genoux !
Amour dans les couvents :
anges, battez des ailes !
Amour dans les prisons :
murs noirs, écroulez-vous !
Germain Nouveau
Poème extrait de « La
Doctrine de l'Amour » (1879-1881)
NOTES
[1] Luis de Grenade fut
contemporain d’Ignace de Loyola, Thérèse de Jésus de Pierre d’Alcantara,
Charles Borromée correspondit avec lui…Il participa activement au renouveau qui
suivit le concile de Trente. Saint François de sales s’en inspira dans plusieurs
de ses écrits et même des huguenots lisaient ses ouvrages. Son traité de
l’oraison est un enseignement sur la vie spirituelle (puisée dans les écritures
et les pères de l’Eglise) qui se veut à la portée de tous. Cela lui valut des
déboires avec l’inquisition. « Qu’en sera-t-il du chrétien sans oraison sinon
un soldat sans armes, un écrivain sans plume et un chirurgien sans outils ?»Son
enseignement n’est pas teinté de Jansénisme.
[2] Le jansénisme est une
doctrine théologique venant d’une lecture de la doctrine de saint Augustin
proche de la théologie protestante de l’époque qui voyait l’homme tellement
corrompu par le péché originel que seule la grâce divine pouvait assurer le
salut. Dieu n’accordant le salut qu’aux prédestinés. Le bénéfice de la grâce appelait
la plus grande rigueur morale. Cette doctrine a été condamnée par Rome. Le
concile de Trente (au XVI siècle) a réaffirmé la nécessaire coopération entre
la grâce divine et la volonté de l’homme, la théologie orthodoxe utilise le
terme synergie entre la volonté de l’homme et l’Amour divin. Néanmoins cette
pensée a influencé la piété catholique au XVIIe et XVIIIe siècle et encore
après.
[3] Mystique orthodoxe
russe (1722-1794) ayant contribué au renouveau spirituel du monde orthodoxe
slave par sa traduction en russe de la philocalie.
[4] Mystique et moine
orthodoxe russe (1759-1833).
[5] Récits d’un pèlerin
russe
[6] A Rome les mendiants
sont acceptés et protégés alors qu’en France des lois ordonnent de les mettre
en prison ou au travail.
[7] Benoît se serait
rendu à Notre dame de Gaverland à Melsele (Beveren) en Belgique
[8] Ses notes seront
importantes pour le procès de canonisation.
[9] C’est d’abord le
peuple de Rome qui l’a canonisé.
[10] Une certaine
théologie a présenté Dieu comme tout puissant et dévalorisant l’homme et les
clercs ont opprimé les consciences. Les spirituels et les mystiques ont une
autre conscience de Dieu, Un Dieu d’Amour qui grandit l’homme dans une relation
nuptiale.
[11] Qui en partie sont
légitimes.
[12] C’est ainsi qu’il
faut situer l’ascétisme certainement très excessif à nos yeux d’aujourd’hui de
Benoît.
[13] Un peintre le
prendra pour modèle pour peindre un Christ.
[14] Les scrupules de
Benoît sont liés à la peur de l’enfer qui angoisse beaucoup de catholiques.
[15] Il est important de
signaler que Benoît Labre n’est pas du tout janséniste en témoigne un dialogue
rapporté par le Père Temple : « Et que feriez-vous si un ange vous annonçait
que votre nom a été rayé ou non inscrit au livre de vie ? Je garderais la
confiance, répondit le saint, espérant immuablement que rien de ce qui est
nécessaire à mon salut ne peut m’être refusé par Celui qui a tant fait et tant
souffert pour mon salut. »
[16] Un des sénateurs
ayant critiqué la canonisation de Benoît Labre, ce paresseux mort en état de
crasse, disait que les saints se trouvaient dans les usines….mais ce sénateur
reconnaissait-il le droit d’une vie digne et décente à un prix juste pour ces
ouvriers considérés comme des outils…. ?
[17] Le pape Léon XIII
qui l’a canonisé est celui qui a initié la doctrine sociale de l’Eglise
défendant les ouvriers comme des sujets et non comme des machines productives
(encyclique Rerum Novarum). « Les travailleurs isolés se sont vus, avec le
temps livrés à la main de maîtres inhumains et à la cupidité d’une concurrence
effrénée une usure dévorante est venue s’ajouter encore au mal…A tout cela il
faut ajouter la concentration entre les mains de quelques uns de l’industrie et
du commerce, devenue le partage d’un petit monde de riches et d’opulents qui
imposent un joug presque servile à l’infinie multitude des prolétaires… »
[18] Le père Temple
témoignera de sa sagesse spirituelle rappelons-nous les mystiques orthodoxes :
« celui qui prie est théologien. »
SOURCE : http://www.eglise-orthodoxe.eu/texte_saint_benoit_labre.htm
Also
known as
Beggar of Perpetual
Adoration
Benedetto Giuseppe Labre
Profile
Oldest of fifteen children in
a prosperous middle class family. Educated by
his uncle, a parish priest.
Following his uncle’s death,
he tried to join the Trappists, Carthusians,
and Cistercians,
but was rejected by them all. He spent years wandering Europe,
especially Rome, Italy,
in complete poverty,
spending his days in perpetual adoration in the cathedrals.
Given to religious ecstacies when
contemplating the crown
of thorns; reputed to float, soar, and bilocate when
in these swoons. He begged in
the streets, and if he was given more than he needed for the day, he would give
the remainder to some one he considered more in need than
he was. Benedict healed some
of his fellow homeless,
and was reported to have multiplied bread for
them. Noted counselor to people of all walks in Rome.
He died in
a hospice, exhausted from his life of austerity.
His biography, written by
his confessor Marconi,
describes 136 miraculous cures attributed
to him within three months of his death.
Born
25
March 1748 at
Amettes, Boulogne, France
interred at
the Church of Santa Maria ai Monti, Rome
8
December 1881 by Pope Leo
XIII
people
rejected by religious orders
beggar in
a tri-cornered hat sharing
his alms
Additional
Information
Book
of Saints, by Father Lawrence
George Lovasik, S.V.D.
Book
of Saints, by the Monks of
Ramsgate
Saints
for Sinners, by Father Alban
Goodier, S.J.
Saints
of 1881, by Father William
Lloyd
Saints
of the Day, by Katherine Rabenstein
Stories
of Holy Lives, by M.F.S.
–
Saint Benedict Joseph
Labre, Votary of Holy Poverty and Pilgrim, by C L White
books
Oxford Dictionary of Saints, by David Hugh Farmer
Roman Martyrology, 3rd Turin edition
other
sites in english
Franciscan Book of Saints, by Marion Habig, OFM
Maria Angela Catholic Devotional
images
video
sitios
en español
Martirologio Romano, 2001 edición
sites
en français
Abbé
Christian-Philippe Chanut
fonti
in italiano
Dicastero delle Cause dei Santi
MLA
Citation
“Saint Benedict Joseph
Labre“. CatholicSaints.Info. 19 April 2024. Web. 25 January 2025.
<https://catholicsaints.info/saint-benedict-joseph-labre/>
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/saint-benedict-joseph-labre/
St. Benedict Joseph Labre
Born 26 March, 1748 at
Amettes in the Diocese of Boulogne, France;
died in Rome 16
April, 1783.
He was the eldest of
fifteen children. His parents, Jean-Baptiste Labre and
Anne-Barba Grandsire, belonged to the middle class and so were able to give to
their numerous offspring considerable opportunities in the way ofeducation.
His early training he received in his native village in a school conducted
by the vicar of the parish.
The account of this period furnished in the life written by his
confessor, Marconi, and that contained in the one compiled from the
official processes of his beatification are
at one in emphasizing the fact that he exhibited a seriousness of thought and
demeanor far beyond his years. Even at that tender age he had begun to show a
marked predilection for the spirit of mortification,
with an aversion for the ordinary childish amusements, and he seems from the
very dawning of reason to have had the liveliest horror for even the
smallest sin.
All this we are told was coexistent with a frank and open demeanor and a fund
of cheerfulness which
remained unabated to the end of his life.
At the age of twelve
his education was
taken over by his paternal
uncle, François-Joseph Labre, curé of Erin, with whom
he then went to live. During the six following years which he spent under his
uncle's roof, he made considerable progress in the study of Latin, history,
etc. but found himself unable to conquer a constantly growing distaste for
any form of knowledge which
did not make directly for union with God.
A love of
solitude, a generous employment
of austerities and devotedness to
his religious exercises were discernible as distinguishing features
of his life at this time and constitute an intelligible prelude to his
subsequent career.
At the age of sixteen he
resolved to embrace a religious
life as a Trappist,
but having on the advice of his uncle returned to Amettes to submit
his design to his parents for
their approval he was unable to win their consent. He therefore resumed
his sojourn in the rectory
at Erin, redoubling his penances and exercises
of piety and
in every way striving to make ready for the life of complete
self-annihilation to which the voice within his soul seemed
to be calling him.
After the heroic death of
his uncle during an epidemic in September 1766, Benedict, who
had dedicated himself during the scourge to the service of the sick
and dying, returned to Amettes in November of the same year. His
absorbing thought at this time was still to become
a religious at La
Trappe, and his parents fearing that
further opposition would be resistance to the will of God fell
in with his proposal to enter the cloister.
It was suggested, how ever, by his maternal uncle, the Abbé Vincent,
that application be made to the Carthusians at Val-Sainte-Aldegonde rather
than to La Trappe.
Benedict's petition at Val-Sainte-Aldegonde was
unsuccessful but he was directed to another monastery of
the same order at Neuville. There he was told that as he was not yet
twenty there was no hurry, and that he must first learn plain-chant and logic.
During the next two years he applied twice unsuccessfully to be received
at La
Trappe and was for six weeks as a postulant with
the Carthusians at Neuville,
he finally sought and obtained admission to the Cistercian Abbey
of Sept-Fonts in November, 1769. After a short stay
at Sept-Fonts during which his exactness
in religious observance and humility endeared
him to the whole community, his health gave way, and it was decided that
his vocation lay elsewhere. In accordance with a resolve formed
during his convalescence he then set out for Rome.
From Chieri in Piedmont he
wrote to hisparents a
letter which proved to be the last they would ever receive from him. In it he
informed them of his design to enter some one of the many monasteries in Italy noted
for their special rigor of life. A short time, however, after the
letter was dispatched he seems to have had an internal illumination which set
at rest forever any doubts he
might have as to what his method of living was to be. He then understood
"that it was God's willthat
like St. Alexis he should abandon his country, his parents,
and whatever is flattering in the world to lead a new sort of life,
a life most painful, most penitential, not in a wilderness nor
in a cloister,
but in the midst of the world, devoutly visiting as a pilgrim the
famous places of Christian
devotion". He repeatedly submitted this
extraordinary inspiration to the judgment of
experienced confessors and was told he might safely conform to it.
Through the years that followed he never wavered in the conviction that this
was the path appointed for him byGod.
He set forward on his life's journey clad in an old coat, a rosary about
his neck, another between his fingers, his arms folded over
a crucifix which lay upon his breast. In a small wallet he
carried a Testament, abreviary, which it was his wont to recite daily, a
copy of the "Imitation
of Christ", and some other pious books.Clothing other
than that which covered his person he
had none. He slept on the ground and for the most part in the open air. For
food he was satisfied with a piece of bread or some herbs, frequently taken but
once a day, and either provided by charity or gotten from some refuse
heap. He never asked for alms and
was anxious to give away to the poor whatever he received in excess
of his scanty wants. The first seven of the thirteen remaining years of his
life were spent in pilgrimages to
the more famous shrines of Europe.
He visited in this way Loreto, Assisi, Naples, Bari, Fabriano in Italy; Einsiedeln in Switzerland; Compostella in Spain;
Parav-le-Monial in France.
The last six years he spent in Rome,
leaving it only once a year to visit
the Holy House of Loreto. His unremitting and
ruthless self-denial, his unaffected humility,
unhesitating obedience and perfect spirit of union
with God inprayer disarmed
suspicion not unnaturally aroused as to the genuineness of a Divine
call to so extraordinary a way of existence. Literally worn out
by his sufferings and austerities, on the 16th of April 1783, he sank down
on the steps of the church of Santa
Maria dei Monti in Rome and,
utterly exhausted, was carried to a neighboring house where he died. His death
was followed by a multitude of unequivocal miracles attributed
to hisintercession. The life written by his confessor, Marconi,
an English version of which bears the date of
1785,witnesses to 136 miraculous cures
as having been certified to up to 6 July, 1783. So remarkable, indeed, was
thecharacter of the evidence for some of the miracles that
they are said to have had no inconsiderable part in finally determining
the conversion of the celebrated American convert, Father
John Thayer, of Boston who
was in Romeat
the time of the saint's death.
Benedict was proclaimed Venerable by Pius
IX in 1859 and canonized by Leo
XIII8 December, 1881. His feast is
kept on the 16th of April, the day of his death.
Sources
Biog. Univ. (Paris, 1811-28); Biog. Eccles. Completa (Madrid, 1857); Life of Venerable Benedict Joseph Labre, French tr., BARNARD (London, 1785); Life of the Venerable Servant of God, Benedict Joseph Labre (Oratorian Series, London, 1850).
Delany, Joseph. "St. Benedict Joseph Labre." The Catholic
Encyclopedia. Vol. 2. New York: Robert Appleton Company,1907. 1
Apr. 2015 <http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/02442a.htm>.
Transcription. This
article was transcribed for New Advent by John Coleman.
Ecclesiastical
approbation. Nihil Obstat. 1907. Remy Lafort, S.T.D., Censor. Imprimatur. +John
M. Farley, Archbishop of New York.
Copyright © 2020 by Kevin
Knight. Dedicated to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
SOURCE : http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/02442a.htm
.JPG)
San Benedetto Giuseppe Labre, Avignon
Benedict Joseph Labre
(RM)
Born at Amettes (near
Boulogne), Arras, France, March 26 (25?), 1748; died in Rome, April 17 (16?),
1783; beatified in 1860; canonized in 1881. Since God leads each of us in our
own way, our spiritual life will assume an pattern totally different from that
of anyone else. Each of us is one of a kind. Our spirituality then should also
be one of a kind. This is shown dramatically in various people's lives.
The story of Saint
Benedict caught my eye and my heart. He was born in 18th century France in
Amettes, then in the diocese of Boulogne-sur-Mer, to a family of prosperous shopkeepers.
His mother claimed to feel his sanctity while she carried him in her womb.
Because of his piety he was sent to an uncle who was a parish priest at Erin
for his education in Latin, grammar, and mathematics to prepare him for the
religious life.
A domestic servant in his
uncle's house, probably jealous, used to knock Benedict about when they were
alone and forced the youngster to perform chores beyond the strength of his
years. Since Benedict seemed to find this odious treatment amusing, the bully
was disarmed.
In freedom from the
prying eyes of his preoccupied elders, little Benedict tried his hand at
austerities, the recipes for which he found in the dusty library of the
presbytery. In addition to almsgiving that gives so much pleasure to the giver,
he adopted a minor practice in austerity that was more sane than them all:
every night he would replace his pillow with a plank of oakwood. Once upon
being surprised while sleeping in this way, he explained, without ostentation:
"I do it in order not to sleep too deeply."
He made steady progress
in his studies until he was 16. Then, suddenly, he was unable to learn any
more. His uncle died of cholera after he and Benedict had ministered to other
victims in the parish. Is this the reason he could learn no more? Or was it
because Benedict was overcome by the dark night of the soul, as Saint John of
the Cross calls this state, in which God forms the soul and prepares it for
union with himself?
After his uncle's death,
he walked 60 miles to La Trappe to become a monk. He was irresistibly drawn to
the very austere order. But he was denied entry. He vainly applied numerous
times between 1766 and 1770 for entry into the Trappists, Carthusians, and
Cistercians, but each time was sent home. For some of the communities he was
too young; others, after admitting him, found him to be suffering such
spiritual tortures that they couldn't let him stay; to still others, the
failure of his physical health was proof that he could not observe the rule
and, therefore, must be rejected.
Finally, Benedict
realized that God must have something else in store for him. He went home and
told his parents that he felt God was calling him to Rome. Perhaps because he
was the eldest of 15 children, they were reluctant but finally gave him their
blessing. Off he went on foot to Rome, begging his way.
Those who have never
begged say that it's painful only the first time, but this isn't true. One does
not knock on all doors in the same way. It is not true that the same words
invariably come to mind in front of different faces. Each time is the first
time. How tempting then to deprive yourself of a stale piece of bread which
even the dogs would forego and to not ask. Begging is not easy. Try stretching
out your own hand and you will see how difficult it is to swallow pride and ask
for help.
Saint Vincent de Paul
understood that the beggar needs us and deprives himself of us because we
deprive ourselves of him. A beggar is a man who is completely at our mercy, and
whom we never thank for the opportunity to act in God's Name.
The saint wandered to
Italy to seek admission there into a strict monastery or community of hermits.
In Italy he experienced inner enlightenment and clearly recognized that it was
God's will that, like Saint Alexis, he was to leave his home, his father and
mother, and everything that was agreeable in the world, in order to lead a new
life, a life of rigorous penance, in the midst of the world, as an eternal
pilgrim.
From the moment of this
recognition, his soul was filled with perfect peace, and all attempts made by
confessors to bring him back to an ordered life, with work, failed.
Benedict Joseph wandered.
For the next three or four years he wandered about western Europe, going from
shrine to shrine. He went to Santiago de Compostella in Spain, to
Aix-en-Provence and Paray-le-Monial in France, to Assisi, Loreto, and Bari in
Italy. He paid repeated visits to Einsiedeln and to German sanctuaries, made a
pilgrimage every year to Loretto, and continued to make Rome his city of
perpetual pilgrimage. He always travelled on foot, slept in the open or in some
corner, his clothing rags, his body filthy, picking up food where he could, and
sharing any money given to him.
As he travelled in his
sack-cloth cinched with a rope, he carried with him only his perpetual
nourishment: the Imitation of Christ, the New Testament, and a breviary. His
rosary was made from the berries of wild rose bushes, which he would eat when
they began to wear out.
He finally settled in
Rome in 1774, where he found his vocation as a tramp, wandering the streets
with other vagrants. How could this be a vocation? He dressed in rags and
wandered from shrine to shrine. Eventually he became widely known as one of the
homeless who roamed the streets accepting crumbs of food and clothes that the
charitable would give him.
During the day he spent
most of his time in churches with perpetual adoration; at night he wandered to
the seven major basilicas. He quenched his thirst at the fountains; he lived
from remnants of food found in the streets. He slept for a few hours under an
arch of the Colosseum at the station of the Cross named "Simon of Cyrene
helps Jesus to carry the Cross." As time went on people began to realize
that there was something different about this tramp. He became known as the
'beggar of the Colosseum' or the 'beggar of the perpetual adoration.'
It was rumored that he
was of high birth but had committed a murder or other heinous crime and now
sought atonement. Alms given to him burned in his hand; he passed them on to
other who he deemed more needy. He was once beaten by a man who thought
Benedict had spurned his offer of money because he gave it away.
His soul hovered
constantly over the greatest mysteries of the faith. And, just as all water
streams to the sea, so everything carried him on to the mysteries of the Most
Holy Trinity. "When I contemplate the crowning of thorns," he said to
the priest who examined him, "I feel myself elevated to the Trinity of
God."
"What do you, a man
without education, understand about this mystery?" the priest asked.
"I understand
nothing about it," Benedict answered, "but I feel myself transported
to it." And this transport was sometimes so strong that his soul was
carried away and his body lay as though dead.
One day as he was praying
at Saint Ignatius' and had fallen into ecstasy, an anxious visitor to the
church asked the sacristan in alarm: "What has happened to this
beggar?"
Benedict seemed to be
swaying in the air. He was in a position that mocked the laws of equilibrium
and gravity. "The saint is in ecstasy," said the sacristan, as though
this were the most natural thing in the world, and went on sweeping with his
broom.
Such soaring over the
ground, as well as bilocation, is frequently attested in Benedict's case. As he
worked in painting the interior of the church, Antonio Cavallucci was so
impressed by the sight of the saint that he once took him to his studio and
painted him. This painting can still be seen at the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte
Antica in Rome, Italy.
This painting and his
death mask reveal that Benedict was a handsome man with deep-set eyes, strong
cheek bones, a perfectly straight and noble nose, high forehead, and gently
protruding upper lip. Not only was his soul beautiful, so was his physical
body. Perhaps the one transformed the other?
He is reputed to have
multiplied bread for the hungry, and on another occasion to have cured an
invalid.
One day some friends
found him in a quiet glen on his knees absorbed in prayer. He stayed that way
for the longest time. His companions were deeply impressed. They also found out
that he had the rare gift of counseling people with the most complex problems
and bringing them peace.
His reputation spread
throughout Rome and soon strangers from all walks of life came to talk to him:
lawyers, doctors, judges, women in society, bishops, cardinals, as well as just
ordinary folks. His wisdom and understanding enabled him to bring peace to the
most troubled souls.
He neglected his body and
his fragile health finally obliged him to seek refuge in a hospice for poor
men. There he was known to give away his portion of the soup.
The man who had spent
long hours before the Blessed Sacrament collapsed from exhaustion on the steps
of his favorite Roman church, Santa Maria dei Monti, during Holy Week and died,
consumed by the inner flame of ceaseless prayer, in the back room of a
butcher's shop to which he had been carried. Since the burial of Saint Philip
Neri, there had been no such crowd pressing to see the mortal remains of a
servant of God as at the Requiem Mass for Benedict Joseph. The military
summoned to the scene had difficulty preserving order.
After his burial, people
came from all over Europe to visit his grave and ask his intercession with God.
In less than three months after his death, 136 miracles had already been
protocoled. The healings and graces people received were so overwhelming that
the Vatican was forced to start the process for his canonization as a saint. In
record time, in 1883, he was proclaimed a person of rare heroic holiness.
The people of Rome had no
doubt about the holiness of this 'new Saint Francis.' He is a late Western
example of an ascetical vocation better known in the East, that of the pilgrim
or wandering holy man. He also has points of resemblance with the Greek saloi
and Russian yurodivy, 'fools for Christ's sake' (Attwater, Attwater2,
Benedictines, Delaney, Encyclopedia, Farmer, Girzone, de la Gorce, Schamoni,
White).
On the day of his
canonization Mass, in the crowded Saint Peter's Basilica way above the heads of
the congregation was the glorious painting of this sainted tramp dressed in his
rags, held up for the veneration and admiration of all the faithful.
"What a strange
vocation! And you cannot help but ask why. But it was a time when the whole
Christian world had become so materialistic that spiritual things meant little
to people. So God called this young man to give up everything and wander the
streets of Rome with other homeless people, dressed in the stinking rags of a
tramp.
"All the while God
molded in the depths of his soul a holiness that transcended anything people
had ever witnessed, and held up the remarkable spirituality of this lowly
beggar for the admiration and example of all. It was no doubt a difficult
vocation for one to follow, but Saint Benedict was always a happy man, so he
must have found a strange satisfaction in the realization that he was following
where God was leading him" (Girzone).
Where is God leading you?
Have you heard His voice yet? It's a small voice that cannot be heard except in
the stillness of your heart. You, too, are called to be a saint--but how?
And how many of those
nameless, faceless souls that we pass on the street are really God's Presence
among us? How often do we recognize Him in them? Which one(s) is the saint we
have failed to recognize?
In art, Saint Joseph
Labre is depicted as a beggar with his bowl and the tricorn hat of a pilgrim
sharing his alms with other poor (Roeder, White). He is the patron saint of
tramps and the homeless (White).
SOURCE : http://www.saintpatrickdc.org/ss/0416.shtml
Bleiglasfenster
in der Kirche Saint-Honoré d'Eylau (Avenue Raymond-Poincaré im 16.
Arrondissement von Paris), Darstellung: hl. Benoît Labre (1748-1783),
Hersteller des Fensters: Félix
Gaudin nach einem Karton von Raphaël Freida. Inschrift: "St
Benoît Labre, patron des pauvres, des pélerins et des malades - 1748 -
Protecteur des oeuvres de la jeunesse † 1783"
Book of Saints
– Saint Benedict Labre
Article
Benedict Joseph Labre was
born in France in 1748. He received a good education under the care of his
pious parents and his uncle, a priest in the town of his birth.
At the age of sixteen he
tried to join the Trappists, but was rejected. Then he was with the Carthusians
for six weeks. He took to the life of a pilgrim, living on alms and practicing
poverty.
Benedict made pilgrimages
to many of the great shrines of Europe. He spent the last years of his life in
Rome, visiting various churches.
Benedict loved the Bible
and always carried a copy with him. In all his travels he tried to keep before
him the sufferings of Jesus and Mary.
He died in 1783 in his
favorite church of Our Lady of the Mountains in Rome, while those attending him
said the invocation of the litany of the dying: “Holy Mary, pray for him.”
MLA
Citation
Father Lawrence
George Lovasik, S.V.D..
“Saint Benedict Labre”. Book of Saints. CatholicSaints.Info.
8 January 2019. Web. 22 December 2020. <https://catholicsaints.info/book-of-saints-saint-benedict-labre/>
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/book-of-saints-saint-benedict-labre/
Pictorial
Lives of the Saints – Saint Benedict Joseph Labre
Article
This holy servant of God,
the son of pious parents, was born 26 March 1748, at Amettes, near Boulogne, in
France. His uncles, both on his father’s and his mother’s side, were
parish-priests, one at the neighboring village of Erin, and the other at Pesse,
which was also quite near Amettes. At the time of our Saint’s birth, a
pestilence of irreligion was ravaging France, but the simple faith and humble
lives of his parents preserved them from its contagion. The love they lavished
on Benedict was repaid with affection and obedience; indeed, the latter was a
distinguishing trait of the boy’s character. At one time the priest in charge
of the school which he attended intentionally charged our Saint with a fault he
had not committed, in order to test his obedience. The boy declared his
innocence; whereon the priest, pretending to be angry, accused him of lying,
and sent him out for punishment. Benedict made no further defense, but was
preparing to receive his punishment, instead of which he met with words of
encouragement and approval.
From his childhood,
religious instruction always found in our Saint an earnest listener: he served
Mass with a devotion that was remarkable, went frequently to confession, and
followed with close attention the ceremonies of the various devotions. Even then
he was anxious to forsake the world and serve God in solitude. His mother,
wishing to discourage what she considered a mere childish fancy, told him he
would be likely to suffer for want of proper food; but with a wisdom beyond his
years, he answered that the hermits of old lived on roots and herbs, and he
could do the same. “But,” retorted his mother, “men were stronger then than
now.” “Ah,” replied the Saint, “God’s grace is always strong; and if He
supported His servants then, why not now?” Meanwhile he would often sleep on
the bare floor with a log for his pillow, and frequently denied himself food.
At the age of twelve he
went to live with his uncle, the priest at Erin, a saintly man, who took upon
himself the religious education of the boy, sending him to a neighboring school
for his Latin and other studies. Benedict’s amiability and docility soon
endeared him to his uncle and his teacher, and he was progressing excellently
in his studies, when he suddenly evinced a distaste for them which he strove in
vain to conquer. Do what he would, he could not revive his old love for his
books. One thought filled his mind; one study alone attracted him: how to do
God’s will, how best to serve Him. His uncle, who had counted on seeing our
Saint ordained and assisting him in the care of the parish, was greatly
disappointed when Benedict, now about sixteen years old, announced his
intention of joining the Trappists, the most rigorous Order in their vicinity.
But the good old man was not to worry long, for about this time an epidemic
carried off many of the inhabitants of Erin, and among them the faithful
pastor, who sacrificed his life for his flock. Sad in heart, Benedict returned
home, where he continued his life of self-denial and penance. Finally, it was
settled that he should take up his residence with his other uncle at Pesse. It
was soon evident, however, that our Saint’s heart was set on a religious life;
and after staying a few months with his uncle, he, with the consent of his
parents, started for La Trappe. Although the distance was more than one hundred
and fifty miles, he made the journey on foot, over bad roads and in severe
weather, and reached the convent, weary and more than half sick, only to be
rejected. He was in rags and half dead from exposure and want of food when he
arrived home.
Nowise disheartened, he
no sooner recovered his strength than he essayed once more to gain admittance
to a monastery, but was again refused. Finally, after being rejected five times
in all by one or another religious Order, he became convinced that Almighty God
willed that he should leave his home and country and journey on foot as a
pilgrim to the sanctuaries of Europe. And so he started out. He had no money,
nor did he ask for any. His food was bread that was given to him, vegetables,
fruit-parings, or any refuse he might find in the street. His clothes were
filthy rags, fastened about his waist by knotted ropes. Living this
self-imposed penance, separated from society and the charity of those whom he
feared might win him from his love for God, he made eleven journeys to the Holy
House of Loreto, besides those to other pilgrimages. The Lent of 1783 found him
in Rome, sick and worn out by his continued journeyings. On Wednesday of Holy
Week, April 16th, his enfeebled body gave way, and he fell fainting on the
steps of a church. A butcher who had always taken an interest in the Saint,
seeing him in this state, had him borne to his home, where at eight o’clock in
the evening, just as the church-bells rang out the Salve Regina, his pure soul
passed away, his pilgrimage was ended, and he was at rest in his Father’s
house.
That night the cry rang
through Rome, “The Saint is dead.” People who shrunk from him living came
eagerly to look on his face in death, and the rags which, before, all loathed,
were now begged as relics. It is worthy of note that the light of faith was
granted one of our earliest American converts, the Rev. John Thayer, a
Protestant minister of Boston, while investigating the miracles related of our
Saint. Mr. Thayer was in Rome at the time of the Saint’s death, and being in
the company of some English friends, the alleged miracles were discussed. The
Protestants disbelieved them and sneered at them, but a Catholic who was
present offered to wager that no one of the company would dare honestly to
investigate them. As a Protestant minister, Mr. Thayer felt bound to accept the
wager. He began the investigation in good faith, and as his reward he became a
Catholic and a priest.
MLA
Citation
John Dawson Gilmary Shea.
“Saint Benedict Joseph Labre”. Pictorial Lives of
the Saints, 1922. CatholicSaints.Info.
14 December 2018. Web. 22 December 2020. <https://catholicsaints.info/pictorial-lives-of-the-saints-saint-benedict-joseph-labre/>
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/pictorial-lives-of-the-saints-saint-benedict-joseph-labre/
New
Catholic Dictionary – Saint Benedict Joseph Labre
Article
(1748 – 1783)
Confessor, pilgrim. Born Amettes, France; died Rome, Italy.
After unsuccessful attempts, because of his youth and poor health, to obtain
the religious habit in the Trappist, Cistercian,
and Carthusian orders,
he devoted his remaining 13 years to traveling over Europe, visiting famous
shrines, and leading a life of great mortification. Worn out by austerities, he
collapsed outside a church in Rome, and died shortly
after. He was known as the “Saint of
the Forty
Hours Devotion,” following this devotion wherever he could. His death was
followed by a multitude of miracles. Canonized; 1881.
Relics in Santa Maria dei Monti, Rome. Feast, 16
April.
MLA
Citation
“Saint Benedict Joseph
Labre”. New Catholic Dictionary. CatholicSaints.Info. 17
August 2012.
Web. 26 January 2025. <http://catholicsaints.info/new-catholic-dictionary-saint-benedict-joseph-labre/>
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/new-catholic-dictionary-saint-benedict-joseph-labre/
Stories
of Holy Lives – Blessed Benedict Joseph Labre
Article
The holy Saint Augustine
used to pray, “Lord, grant me to know Thee and to know myself. To know Thee, in
order to love Thee, to know myself, that I may despise myself.” And these words
were frequently upon the lips of Benedict Joseph Labre, and God answered him by
an inspiration which drew him to a life of singular poverty and penance as a
means of crucifying all love of the world’s esteem.
The parents of this holy
man were not poor. True, they had fifteen children, of whom Benedict was the
eldest, but by his trade as a merchant, the father gained sufficient to
maintain his large family comfortably. On the 27th March, 1748, the little
Benedict was baptized at the parish church of Amettes, in France, being then
but a day old. From his earliest infancy it seemed as if the child was
specially loved and favoured by God, his disposition was so patient, so sweet,
so docile. To his pious parents then it was an easy and happy task to instruct
him in the holy Catholic faith, for he not only listened attentively, but
seemed in his childish way at once to put in practice the lessons which he
learned; and this is wherein so many of us fail. We are taught the fear of God,
we read and hear the maxims of our religion, we have before us the examples of
our Lord, His Virgin Mother, and the Saints, and yet this good seed seems to
drop into our hearts week by week and year by year, without ever springing up
into those beautiful blossoms of love, humility, meekness, and fidelity, which
God is watching for.
However, it was not so
with Benedict Labre. He was a good, earnest little boy, and had made such use
of his mother’s teaching, that at five years of age he was thought fit to be
placed under the care of a priest who dwelt in Amettes. He soon learned to read
and write well, and was so anxious to get on, that his master often had to
restrain him. Other children were being educated with him, and to them Benedict
was always kind, bearing meekly any injury done to him. Once a little boy
struck him, but he did not complain, and when the master found it out and
questioned him, Benedict tried to excuse the offence, saying it must have been
done by accident. Naturally, boys are very fond of amusement, and these little
fellows used to play and loiter about the streets when school-time was over,
but Benedict walked straight home without loss of time, and resisted all the
persuasions of his companions to do as they did. This child of six years had a
horror of small acts of disobedience, quarrelling, untruthfulness, and such
faults. To him they were not “little sins,” as so many call them, but offences
which were giving pain to his Lord, and which, therefore, were horrible to him.
It is very possible that some of his friends would feel vexed and angry with
his strict ideas of right and wrong, but at length they loved him all the more
because he was so good, and his presence restrained their passions, while his
example became to many a model which they would strive to imitate. The little
Benedict already began to do penances, trying hard to keep them secret from all
but God. He would creep quietly out of his soft bed and rest his head on a
piece of hard wood, and take that food which he liked least of what was
provided by his mother.
The child had made
himself a small oratory, and at eight years old he would take a younger brother
as server, and try to imitate saying Mass; not in jest, but with the deepest
devotion of his little heart. It seemed, indeed, as if Benedict’s young life
was full of but one thought, the thought of God and His service. At all times
in the day he loved to go to the church, either to pray silently in some
retired corner, or to serve the morning Mass with his hands joined before his
breast, his eyes cast down, and his whole heart fixed upon God. From five years
of age he went regularly to confession, for he was so early filled with
contrition for every offence, that he could not rest without receiving the
pardon of Jesus. He loved to be at catechism, to join in the processions, and
other offices of the Church, and thus his innocent life passed until his
twelfth year.
At that age Benedict’s
good parents placed him under the care of his uncle, who was a priest, so that
he might begin the study of Latin and other higher branches of learning, and
for four years the boy applied himself to it with great pleasure. But at
sixteen he began to have almost a dislike to study; not from indolence, but
because his heart was turned to the knowledge of spiritual things, to the
reading of books of devotion and the lives of the Saints; and, above all, he
loved the Holy Scriptures, and for the rest of his life always carried a copy
about with him. Benedict’s uncle at first was much displeased at this sudden
distaste for his course of Latin study, and ordered him to persevere in
applying his mind; but though the lad tried to obey, he no sooner opened one of
his books than the disgust for it became like a great weight upon his heart,
and he longed more than ever to read only of Christ and His servants. At last
Benedict told his uncle that he felt God did not mean him to pursue studies
which would only be useful in the world, and he expressed a wish to go into a
cloister – the one which he had heard was more austere than any, La Trappe. The
uncle represented the hardships of such a life, he told him truly that many far
stronger in health were unequal to it; but all this did not serve to turn
Benedict from his wishes, although the time had not come for him to seek to
enter the cloister for which he longed. So, with this strong desire and hope in
his heart, the young Labre went through his, quiet routine of duty under his
uncle’s control. He rose very early, that he might pray in the silence and
solitude of the morning hours; he served one or two Masses if he had the power
of doing so, or, if another was before him, he withdrew silently, bearing the
disappointment with the sweetness of one who saw in it the Will of God; he
employed himself as much as possible in spiritual reading, was frequent in his
recourse to the Sacraments, and, withal, was so humble, that at fifteen or
sixteen years old he would place himself among the little boys for catechism,
as if he needed the same instruction.
When Benedict was
eighteen his kind good uncle died, and he then returned home, to carry on the
strict rule of life he had taken up. His great desire to enter La Trappe was
still strong, but his parents refused their consent, until at last his patience
and gentle persistence caused them to yield. Benedict was as much delighted as
if he had received permission to enter some place of delight, and in spite of
the inclement season he set out upon this journey of nearly sixty leagues.
Arrived there, the monks would not receive him; they looked at his young frail
form, and bade him return to his home, until perhaps at some future time he
should be more fit for a life of austerity. Benedict was deeply grieved, but
the love of God in his heart was so strong, that he felt quite sure this
disappointment had come for his spiritual good, and with that confidence he
could not murmur, but returned to Amettes quite exhausted by the length of the
journey.
In less than a year the
youth wrote to the Abbot of the monastery, renewing his request to be admitted,
but he was again refused; so as his parents had given leave for him to join the
Carthusian monks, Benedict journeyed to their house near Montreville, in the
year 1767. He found from the Fathers that it was necessary for him first to
pursue further studies, so for this purpose he placed himself for a time under
the care of the priest of Auctri, and then again presented himself at the
monastery of Chartreuse, because it was the desire of his parents, although his
own heart remained steadily fixed upon La Trappe. For six weeks Benedict
remained ns a postulant at Montreville; but God was calling him to a different
state, so that He gave him neither peace nor content in the life, and at last
the Father-prior said to him, “My son, the Almighty does not design you to
receive the habit of a Carthusian. Follow His inspirations, and leave us.”
So Benedict left the
monastery, feeling quite sure the Divine Will had been clearly shown in his
regard, and, writing to his parents, told them that he should again seek
admittance at La Trappe – the one Order which he desired to enter. But it was
in vain. Perhaps God chose this way of perfectly annihilating Benedict’s will
and desire even for a holy life. The Abbot still deemed him too weak for such a
severe rule, and, accepting the refusal with great humility, Labre went to the
monastery of Sept Fontaines of the Cistercian order, where he was without
difficulty received. Scarcely had he entered than he was seized with violent
illness of body, and still worse distress of mind, and after six months it was
thought right to send him away, as God showed so plainly that he was not suited
to that life.
So Benedict had to put
far from him all those holy desires for the silent and austere cloister life he
had thought of and prayed for since his childhood; and saying, “Not my will,
but Thine be done,” he turned with more fervent prayer to God, Whom he implored
to grant him a clearer light upon his future course.
Thus by these many trials
and severe disappointments Almighty God led Benedict Labre to the strange,
almost repulsive life of a poor, dirty, miserably-clad beggar, one who was
loathsome in the eyes of the ‘world, but very precious in the sight of heaven.
The year in which he left
Sept Fontaines, Benedict started on a pilgrimage to holy places. He journeyed
on foot, in ragged garments, bearing the severity of winter weather and the
burning heat of the summer sun; going by lonely ways, where he met no other
travellers, and thus was dependent wholly upon God for consolation. Whenever he
came to a town or village, this holy man imitated the example of his Master, in
doing good to the poor and sick and sorrowful, and at length his piety gained
him such respect and admiration, that he became afraid lest pride and vainglory
might enter his heart, and he departed from the company of men to seek more
solitary places.
Eleven times he journeyed
to the Holy House of Loretto, where he kissed with affection those sacred
walls, and felt his heart inflamed with a greater love for Jesus and His
Blessed Mother; and the priests who observed his devotion felt quite sure he
was a very holy man, and gave him leave to enter whenever he pleased. So there
he would remain, kneeling motionless in prayer, weeping tears of joy and
gratitude that God should suffer him to remain in a place where the Mother of
Christ had dwelt.
His food was any bread
which was given to him, any cabbage-leaves, fruit-parings, or useless thing he
might find in the streets; his clothes were rags, which were so dirty, that
even people who felt kindly and charitably towards him hesitated to approach
him, and even some confessors were compelled to forbid him to come to their
confessionals, because their other penitents would not enter where a beggar so
filthy had been seen to kneel. In this Benedict found his most severe penance;
his poverty was his choice, for in his home he would have had every necessary
comfort and convenience. The dirty rags which he refused to change were
assumed, not because he was careless about cleanliness, but because he found in
this way an extreme mortification, and a means of separating himself from the
society and charity of those who might perhaps have taken some of his love from
God.
It has been very
different with many other saints. Poverty and penance they have sought and
loved, but cleanliness has been as dear to them as to us, so that we need not think
a state like that of Benedict Labre is part of the practice of holiness and
austerity. It certainly was right for him. Who can doubt it when they read how
constant and how humble were his prayers to God for guidance, how faithful his
resolve to subject his own will to the most holy Will of God? With a heart so
disposed, it would not have been possible for him to pursue such a life had it
not been the one path which was to lead him to heaven. We may wonder – we may
not imitate him or any of God’s saints, unless a Divine Voice speaks and says
to us as to them, “This is the way, walk ye in it,” – but while we wonder, we
may not condemn, but dwell more upon the humble, prayerful heart of this
blessed man, which ever found peace and joy in God amidst all suffering,
reproach, and contempt.
In 1782, when Benedict
made his last journey to Loretto, he was observed to be more than usually
thoughtful, as if he had some sweetness hidden in his heart which absorbed him
wholly. The fact was that Benedict knew he was going to die before very long,
and that knowledge made him so happy, that he was always thinking of it. His
longing for God seemed to grow daily more intense, and he would frequently
murmur, “Call me, that I may see Thee.” His grief for what in his humility he
deemed his many sins, became stronger than ever, and he approached the
Sacraments still more frequently in preparation for death.
Early in Lent, 1788, this
poor man looked like one dying, the very sight of whom moved all to compassion.
In Holy Week ho could scarcely support himself on his feet, and yet he would
drag his poor weak body to the church, and kneel there for hours before the
Blessed Sacrament. At last one day a fainting fit obliged him to leave, and
rest awhile on the church steps, and there a crowd gathered round him. A man
named Taccarelli felt great pity for Benedict, and calling him by his name,
said his house was ready to receive him. Doubtless God was the author of this
compassion, for Taccarelli forgot the poor dying man’s miserable condition, and
raising him in his arms, bore him to his own home, where he was laid upon a bed
in all his ragged clothing. A priest was sent for, who bent over the beggar and
said: “Do you wish to make your confession? Is there anything that you want?”
And with a great effort Benedict murmured faintly, “Nothing, nothing.”
It was known that the
holy man had received communion a few days before, but the priest wished to
give him the help of Viaticum, but death was too near for him to have that
grace. His teeth were set together, his eyes closed, and when they administered
the Sacrament of Extreme Unction Benedict was unconscious of all around. At
eight o’clock in the evening they began to recite the Litany of the Blessed
Virgin, during which his soul quietly passed away into the presence of God, at
the very moment when the bells of every church in Rome gave the signal for the
“Salve Regina.” He was thirty-five years old when he died, and in those years
his soul had been his one great care. For that he had given up the world, with
all its enjoyments and pleasures; for that he had neglected his poor suffering
body; and now, as his reward, God took that pure soul into His own keeping,
while even his wasted human form was to be honoured upon earth. People who had
shrunk from the beggar of Rome came eagerly to look upon his calm sweet face in
death; the clothes, which just before none would have touched, were begged now
as precious relics; the bed upon which he died, the room where he lay, were
visited with reverence by persons of the highest rank; and he was known at last
as one of God’s true servants, one of those whose humility has drawn down Christ,
the lover of humility, to dwell in their hearts, and fill them by His sweet
presence with all virtue and all grace.
MLA
Citation
M.F.S. “Blessed Benedict
Joseph Labre”. Stories of Holy Lives. CatholicSaints.Info.
5 May 2022. Web. 26 January 2025. <https://catholicsaints.info/stories-of-holy-lives-blessed-benedict-joseph-labre/>
SOURCE : https://catholicsaints.info/stories-of-holy-lives-blessed-benedict-joseph-labre/
.jpg)
Saint
Benedict Joseph Labre
St
Benoit Joseph Labre, Eglise Sainte Marie des Monts, Rome
ST. BENEDICT JOSEPH
LABRE: THE BEGGAR SAINT—1748-1783
There is no condition of
life which the grace of God has not sanctified; this is the first reflection
that must rise in the mind of anyone who studies the history of Benedict Joseph
Labre. He died a beggar in Rome in 1783. Within a year of his death his
reputation for sanctity had spread, it would seem, throughout Europe. The man
and his reputed miracles were being discussed in London papers before the end
of 1784. During that year the first authentic life of him appeared, from the
pen of his confessor; it was written, as the author expressly states in the
preface, because so many tales were being told about him. In 1785 an abridged
translation was published in London; surely a remarkable witness, when we
consider the place and the times—it was only five years after the Gordon
riots—to the interest his name had aroused. We wonder in our own day at the
rapidity with which the name of St. Therese of Lisieux has spread over the
Christian world; though St. Benedict's actual canonization has taken a longer
time, nevertheless his cultus spread more quickly, and that in spite of the
revolutionary troubles of those days, and the difficulties of communication.
Rousseau and Voltaire had died five years before; ten years later came the
execution of Louis XVI, and the massacres of the French Revolution were at
their height. In studying the life of Benedict Joseph Labre these dates cannot
be without their significance.
Benedict from the
beginning of his days was nothing if not original. His originality consisted
mainly in this, that he saw more in life than others saw, and what he saw made
him long to sit apart from it; it gave him a disgust, even to sickness, for
things with which ordinary men seem to be contented. Other men wanted money,
and the things that money could buy; Benedict never had any use for either.
Other men willingly became the slaves of fashion and convention; Benedict
reacted against it all, preferring at any cost to be free. He preferred to live
his life untrammeled, to tramp about the world where he would—what was it made
for but to trample on?—to go up and down, a pure soul of nature, without any
artificial garnish, just being what God made him, and taking every day what God
gave him, in the end giving back to God that same being, perfect, unhampered,
untainted.
But it was not all at
once that Benedict discovered his vocation; on the contrary, before he reached
it he had a long way to go, making many attempts and meeting with many
failures. He was born not far from Boulogne, the eldest of a family of fifteen
children, and hence belonged to a household whose members had perforce to look
very much after themselves. From the first, if you had met him, you would have
said he was different from others of his class. The portrait drawn of him by
his two chief biographers seems to set before us one of those quiet, meditative
youths, not easy to fathom, unable to express themselves, easily misunderstood,
who seem to stand aside from life, looking on instead of taking their part in
it; one of those with whom you would wish to be friends yet cannot become
intimate; cheerful always (the biographers are emphatic about this), yet with a
touch of melancholy; whom women notice, yet do not venture too near; a puzzle
to most who meet them, yet instinctively revered; by some voted
"deep" and not trusted, while others, almost without reflecting on
it, know that they can trust them with their very inmost souls.
Benedict had good
parents, living in a comfortable state of life; their great ambition was that
from their many children one at least should become a priest. Benedict, being
the quiet boy he was, soon became the one on whom their hopes settled; and they
spared no pains to have him educated to that end. He chanced to have an uncle,
a parish priest, living some distance from his family home; this uncle gladly
received him, and undertook his early education for the priesthood. Here for a
time Benedict settled down, learning Latin and studying Scripture. He was happy
enough, though his originality of mind dragged against him. His Latin was a
bore, and he did not make much of it, but the Scriptures he loved. On the other
hand, the poor in the lanes had a strange attraction for him; they were pure
nature, without much of the convention that he so disliked; and he was often
with them, and regularly emptied his pockets among them. Besides, he had a way
of wandering off to the queerest places, mixing with the queerest people,
ending up with long meditations in his uncle's church before the Blessed Sacrament.
But in spite of these
long meditations, Benedict's uncle was by no means sure that with a character
such as his, and with his wandering propensity, he would end as a priest.
Meanwhile the thought came to Benedict himself that he would be a Trappist; the
originality of their life, with its ideals the exact contrary to those of
ordinary convention, seemed to him exactly like his own. He applied to his
uncle; his uncle put him off by referring him to his parents; his parents would
have none of it, and told him he must wait till he grew older. At the time of
this first attempt Benedict was about sixteen years of age.
He remained some two
years longer with his priest-uncle, who continued to have his doubts about him.
While he was still trying to make up his mind, when Benedict was about
eighteen, an epidemic fell upon the city, and uncle and nephew busied
themselves in the service of the sick.
The division of labor was
striking; while the uncle, as became a priest, took care of the souls and
bodies of the people, Benedict went to and fro caring for the cattle. He
cleaned their stalls and fed them; the chronicler tells the story as if, in
spite of the epidemic, which had no fears for him, Benedict were by no means
loth to exchange this life of a farm laborer for that of a student under his
uncle's roof.
But a still greater
change was pending. Among the last victims of the epidemic was the uncle
himself, and his death left Benedict without a home. But this did not seem to
trouble him; Benedict was one of those who seldom show trouble about anything.
He had already developed that peculiar craving to do without whatever he could,
and now that Providence had deprived him of a home he began to think that he
might do without that as well. But what was he to do? How was he to live? At
first he had thought that his natural aloofness from the ordinary ways of men
meant that he should be a monk. His family had put him off, but why should he
not try again? He was older now, arrived at an age when young men ordinarily decide
their vocations; this time, he said to himself, he would not be so easily
prevented.
Benedict returned to his
family with his mind made up. He loved his parents—we have later abundant
evidence of that; natures like his have usually unfathomed depths of love
within them which they cannot show. He would not go without their consent.
He asked, and again they
refused; his mother first, and then all the rest of the household with her. But
he held on in his resolution, till at length in despair they surrendered, and
Benedict set off with a glad heart in the direction of La Trappe.
He arrived there only to
be disappointed. The abbey at which he applied had suffered much of late from
the admission of candidates whose constitutions were unfitted for the rigor of the
life; in consequence the monks had passed a resolution to admit no more unless
they were absolutely sound in body. Benedict did not come up to their
requirements. He was under age, he was too delicate; he had no special
recommendations. They would make no exception, especially so soon after the
rule had been made. Benedict was sent away, and returned to his family, and all
they said to him was: "We told you so."
Still he would not
surrender. For a time he went to live with another parish priest, a distant
relative, that he might continue his studies, and above all perfect himself in
Latin. But the craving to go away would not leave him. If the Trappists would
not have him, perhaps the Carthusians would. At least he could try. Once more
he told his parents of his wish, and again, more than ever, they opposed him.
They showed him how his first
failure was a proof that
he would fail again; how he was throwing away a certain future for a shadow;
how those best able to judge were all against him, how with his exceptional
education he might do so much good elsewhere. Still he would have his way, and
one day, when he had won a consent from his parents that at least he might try,
he went off to ask for admission among the Carthusians of Montreuil. But here
again he met with the same response. The monks were very kind, as Carthusians
always are; they showed him every mark of affection, but they told him as well
that he had no vocation for them. He was still too young to take up such a
life; he had not done so much as a year of philosophy; he knew nothing of plain
chant; without these he could not be admitted among them.
Benedict went off, but
this time he did not return straight home.
If one Carthusian
monastery would not have him, perhaps another would. There was one at
Longuenesse; he was told that there they were in need of subjects, and
postulants were more easily admitted. He tramped off to Longuenesse and
applied; to his joy the monks agreed to give him a trial. But the trial did not
last long. Benedict did his best to reconcile himself to the life, but it was
all in vain. Strange to say, the very confinement, the one thing he had longed
for, wore him down. The solitude, instead of giving him the peace he sought,
seemed only to fill him with darkness and despair. The monks grew uneasy; they
feared for the brain of this odd young man they told him he had no vocation and
he was dismissed.
Benedict came home again,
but his resolution was in no way shaken. His mother, naturally more than ever
convinced that she was right, left no stone unturned to win him from his
foolish fancy. Friends and neighbors joined in; they blamed him for his
obstinacy, they accused him of refusing to recognize the obvious will of God,
they called him unsociable, uncharitable, selfish, unwilling to shoulder the
burden of life like other young men of his class. Still, in spite of all they
said, Benedict held on.
He could not defend
himself; nevertheless he knew that he was right and that he was following a
star which would lead him to his goal at last. Since the Carthusians had said
that he could not be received among them because he knew no philosophy or plain
chant, that a year's course in these was essential, he found someone willing to
teach him, and much as he disliked the study, he persevered for the year as he
had been told. Then he applied once more at Montreuil. The conditions had been
fulfilled, he was now older and his health had been better; he had proved his
constancy by this test imposed upon him; though many of the monks shook their
heads, still they could see that this persistent youth would never be content
till he had been given another trial, and they received him.
But the result was again
the same. He struggled bravely on with the life, but he began to shrink to a
shadow. The rule enjoined quiet in his cell, and he could not keep still. After
six weeks of trial the monks had to tell him that he was not designed for them,
and asked him to go. He went, but this time not home; he made up his mind never
to go home any more. He would try the Trappists again or some other confined
Order; perhaps he would have to go from monastery to monastery till at last he
found peace, but he would persevere. At any rate he would no longer trouble, or
be a burden to, his parents or his family. On the road, after he had been
dismissed from Montreuil, he wrote a letter to his parents; it is proof enough
that with all his strange ways he had a very wide place in his heart for those
he dearly loved.
"My dear Father and
Mother,
"This is to tell you
that the Carthusians have judged me not a proper person for their state of
life, and I quitted their house on the second day of October.—I now intend to
go to La Trappe, the place which I have so long and so earnestly desired. I beg
your pardon for all my acts of disobedience, and for all the uneasiness which I
have at any time caused you.—By the grace of God I shall henceforth put you to
no further expense, nor shall I give you any more trouble.—I assure you that
you are now rid of me. I have indeed cost you much; but be assured that, by the
grace of God, I will make the best use of, and reap benefits from, all that you
have done for me.—Give me your blessing, and I will never again be a cause of
trouble to you.—I very much hope to be received at La Trappe; but if I should
fail there, I am told that at the Abbey of Sept Fonts they are less severe, and
will receive candidates like me. But I think I shall be received at La
Trappe."
With hopes such as these
he came to La Trappe and again was disappointed; the good monks declined even
to reconsider his case. But he went on to Sept Fonts, as he had said he would
in his letter, and there was accepted; for the third time he settled down to
test his vocation as a monk. The trial lasted only eight months. He seems to
have been happier here than anywhere before, yet in another sense he was far
from happy. This youth with a passion for giving up everything, found that even
in a Trappist monastery he could not give up enough. He craved to be yet more
poor than a Trappist, he craved to be yet more starving; and what with his
longing to give away more, and his efforts to be the poorest of the poor, he
began to shrink to a mere skeleton, as he had done before at Montreuil. Added
to this he fell ill, and was disabled for two months. Once more the community
grew anxious; it was only too clear that he would never do for them. As soon as
he was well enough to take the road he was told that he must go, that the
strict life of the Trappist was too much for him and with a "God's will be
done" on his lips, and some letters of recommendation in his pocket,
Benedict again passed out of the monastery door, into a world that hurt him.
Nevertheless in those few
months he had begun at last to discover his true vocation. Though the longing
for the monastic life did not entirely leave him, still he was beginning to see
that there was now little hope of his being able to embrace it in the ordinary
way. He was unlike other men; he must take the consequences and he would. He
could not be a monk like others, then he would be one after his own manner. He
could not live in the confinement of a monastery; then the whole world should
be his cloister. There he would live, a lonely life with God, the loneliest of
lonely men, the outcast of outcasts, the most pitied of all pitiful creatures,
"a worm and no man, the reproach of men, and the outcast of the
people." He would be a tramp, God's own poor man, depending on whatever
men gave him from day to day, a pilgrim to heaven for the remainder of his
life. He was twenty-five years of age.
He set off on his
journey, with Rome as his first objective, a long cloak covering him, tied with
a rope round the waist, a cross on his breast, a large pair of beads round his
neck; his feet were partly covered with substitutes for shoes, carefully
prepared, one might have thought, to let in water and stones. In this dress he
braved every kind of weather, rain and snow, heat and the bitterest cold; he
faced and endured it all without ever wincing or asking for a change. Over his
shoulder he carried an old sack in which were all his belongings; chief among
these were a bible and prayerbook. He ate whatever men gave him; if they gave
him nothing he looked to see what he could find on the roadside. He refused to
take thought for the morrow, if at any time he had more than sufficed for the
day, he invariably gave it to another.
Moreover, as a result of
his poverty, Benedict soon ceased to be clean; the smell of Benedict was not
always pleasant; even his confessor, who wrote his life, tells us very frankly
that when Benedict came to confession he had to protect himself from vermin.
Men of taste, even those who later came to look on him as a saint, could
scarcely refrain from drawing aside when he came near them; and when they did,
then was Benedict's heart full of joy. He had found what he wanted, his garden
enclosed, his cloister that shut him off in the middle of the world; and the
more he was spurned and ignored, the more did he lift up his eyes to God in
thanksgiving.
With this light dawning
on his soul, soon to grow into full noon, Benedict set out on his travels. He
had gone through a long noviceship, living as it were between two worlds, one
of which he would not have, while the other had repeatedly closed its doors to
him; now at last his life proper had begun. We can discover his final decision
in a letter he wrote to his parents from Piedmont, when he had now left France,
and was half-way on his journey to Rome. It is a letter full of soul and
warmth; it teems with sympathy and interest for others; there is not a word
which implies bitterness or disappointment; the man who wrote it was a happy
man, in no way disgruntled; evidently his only fear is that he may give pain to
those he loved.
"My dear Father and
Mother, "You have heard that I have left the Abbey of Sept Fonts, and no
doubt you are uneasy and desirous to know what route I have taken, and what
kind of life I intend to adopt.—I must therefore acquaint you that I left Sept
Fonts in July; I had a fever soon after I left, which lasted four days, and I
am now on my way to Rome.—I have not traveled very fast since I left, on
account of the excessive hot weather which there always is in the month of
August in Piedmont, where I now am, and where, on account of a little
complaint, I have been detained for three weeks in a hospital where I was
kindly treated. In other respects I have been very well. There are in Italy
many monasteries where the religious live very regular and austere lives, I
design to enter into one of them, and I hope that God will prosper my
design.—Do not make yourselves uneasy on my account. I will not fail to write
to you from time to time. And I shall be glad to hear of you, and of my
brothers and sisters; but this is not possible at present, because I am not yet
settled in any fixed place; I will not fail to pray for you every day. I beg
that you will pardon me for all the uneasiness that I have given you; and that
you will give me your blessing, that God may favor my design.—I am very happy
in having undertaken my present journey. I beg you will give my compliments to
my grandmother, my grandfather, my aunts, my brother James and all my brothers
and sisters, and my uncle Francis. I am going into a country which is a good
one for travelers. I am obliged to pay the postage of this to France.
"Again I ask your blessing, and your pardon for all the uneasiness I have
given you, and I subscribe myself, "Your most affectionate son, Benedict
Joseph Labre. "Roziers in Piedmont, Aug. 31, 1770."
This was the last letter
he appears to have written to his family.
He had promised to write
again; if he wrote, the letter has perished. Indeed from this moment they seem
to have lost sight of him altogether; the next they heard of him was fourteen
years later, when his name was being blazoned all over Europe as that of a
saint whose death had stirred all Rome. And he never heard from them. He had
told them he could give them no address, because he had no fixed abode; from
this time forward he never had one, except during the last years in Rome, and
that for the most part was in a place where the post could scarcely have found
him, as we shall see.
Except to give an idea of
the nature and extent of his wanderings during the next six or seven years, it
is needless to recall all the pilgrimages he made. They led him over mountains
and through forests, into large cities and country villages, he slept under the
open sky, or in whatever sheltered corner he could find, accepting in alms what
sufficed for the day and no more, clothed with what men chose to give him, or
rather with what they could induce him to accept; alone with God everywhere and
wanting no one else. During this first journey he called on his way at Loreto
and Assisi. Arrived in Rome, footsore and ill, he was admitted for three days
into the French hospital; then for eight or nine months he lingered in the
city, visiting all the holy places, known to no one, sleeping no one knows
where. In September of the next year we find him again at Loreto; during the
remaining months of that year, and through the winter, he seems to have visited
all the sacred shrines in the kingdom of Naples. He was still there in
February, 1772, after which he returned to Rome. In June he was again at
Loreto, thence he set out on his tour to all the famous shrines of Europe. In
1773 he was tramping through Tuscany; in 1774, after another visit to Rome, he
was in Burgundy; during the winter of that year he went to Einsiedeln in
Switzerland, choosing the coldest season of the year for this visit to the
mountain shrine. 1775, being the Jubilee year, he again spent in Rome; in 1776
he was making pilgrimages to the chief places of devotion in Germany. At the
end of that year he settled down definitely in Rome, going away henceforth only
on special pilgrimages, most of all to his favorite Loreto, which he did not
fail to visit every year.
Naturally enough stories
are recalled of the behavior of this peculiar man on his journeys. He seems
never to have had in his possession more than ten sous, or five pence, at a
time; when charitable people offered him more than sufficed for the day he
invariably refused it. At Loreto, where he came to be known perhaps more than
anywhere else, at first he lodged in a barn at some distance from the town;
when compassionate friends found a room for him closer to the shrine, he
refused it because he found it contained a bed. In Rome, as we have already
hinted, his home for years was a hole he had discovered among the ruins of the
Coliseum; from this retreat he made daily excursions to the various churches of
the city. Except when he was ill he seldom begged; he was content with whatever
the passersby might give him of their own accord. Once a man, seeing him in his
poverty, gave him a penny. Benedict thanked him, but finding it more than he
needed, passed it on to another poor man close by. The donor, mistaking this
for an act of contempt, supposing that Benedict had expected more, took his
stick and gave him a beating Benedict took the beating without a word. We have
this on the evidence of the man himself, recorded in the inquiry after
Benedict's death; it must be one instance of many of its kind.
But for the rest
Benedict's life was one of continued prayer; he was a Trappist in a monastery
of his own making. So far as he was able he kept perpetual silence, those who
knew him afterwards related that he seemed to go whole months together without
allowing his voice to be heard. He lived in retirement and solitude, he would
accept no friend or companion; he would have only God, a few who had come to
notice him, and who helped him when he would allow them, were invariably
treated as patrons and benefactors, but no more. When a convent of nuns, at
which occasionally he applied, had observed him and began to show him more
interest and respect, Benedict discovered their esteem and never went near them
again. All his possessions were a few books of devotion and a wooden bowl; the
latter had split, and he had kept it together with a piece of wire. He fasted
and abstained continually, sometimes perforce, sometimes by chance by
constantly kneeling on the hard ground, or the stone floors of the churches, he
developed sores on both knees. He deliberately tried to be despised and
shunned, and when men could not refrain from showing contempt in their manner,
then would Benedict's face light up with real joy. Let his confessor, who wrote
his life a year after his death, describe his first meeting with him: "In
the month of June, 1782, just after I had celebrated mass in the church of St.
Ignatius belonging to the Roman College, I noticed a man close beside me whose
appearance at first sight was decidedly unpleasant and forbidding. His legs
were only partially covered, his clothes were tied round his waist with an old
cord. His hair was uncombed, he was ill-clad, and wrapped about in an old and
ragged coat. In his outward appearance he seemed to be the most miserable
beggar I had ever seen. Such was the spectacle of Benedict the first time I
beheld him."
For what remains of
Benedict's story we cannot do better than follow the guidance of this director.
After the priest had finished his thanksgiving, on the occasion just mentioned,
Benedict approached him and asked him to appoint a time when he would hear his
general confession. The time and place were arranged.
During the confession the
priest was surprised, not only at the care with which it was made, but also at
the knowledge his penitent showed of intricate points of theology. He concluded
that, beggar though he was then, he had evidently seen better days; indeed he
felt sure that he had once been a clerical student. He therefore interrupted
the confession to ask whether he had ever studied divinity. "I,
Father?" said Benedict. "No, I never studied divinity. I am only a
poor ignorant beggar."
The confessor at once
recognized that he was dealing with something unusual. He resolved to do for
him all he could, and for the future to keep him carefully in mind.
As it has so often been
in God's dealings with hidden saints whom He has willed that men should come at
last to know, that apparently chance meeting was the means by which the memory
of Benedict was saved. It took place in June, 1782; in April of the following
year Benedict died. During those ten months the priest to whom he addressed
himself had ample opportunity to watch him. As the weeks passed by he grew in
wonder at the sanctity that lay beneath rags; and yet he tells us that, not a
little fastidiously clean as he seems to have been himself, it never so much as
occurred to him to bid Benedict mend his ways. To hear his confession cost him
an effort, yet he never thought twice about making that effort; only at times,
for the sake of others, the appointed place was out of the way.
He saw him last on the
Friday before Holy Week, 1783, when Benedict came to make his confession as
usual. He remarks that though always before Benedict had fixed the day when he
would come again, this time he made no appointment. The next the priest heard
of him was that he was dead, exactly a week later.
But he was not surprised.
For some months before, when once he had come to know Benedict and his way of
life, he had wondered how he lived. Apart from his austerities, and his
invariable choice of food that was least palatable, of late his body had begun
to develop sores and ulcers. The priest had spoken to him on this last point,
and had exhorted him at least to take more care of his sores, but Benedict had
taken little notice. On his side, as the confessor could not but notice, and as
is common with saints as death draws nearer, the love of God that was in him
left him no desire to live any longer.
It came to Wednesday in
Holy Week. Among the churches which Benedict frequented none saw him more than
S. Maria dei Monti, not very far from the Coliseum. In this church he usually
heard mass every morning; in the neighborhood he was well known. On this day he
had attended the morning services; as he went out of the door, about one in the
afternoon, he was seen to fall on the steps. Neighbors ran towards him. He
asked for a glass of water, but he could not lift himself up. A local butcher,
who had often been kind to Benedict, offered to have him carried to his house,
and Benedict agreed. They laid him on a bed, as they thought, to rest; but it
soon became clear that he was dying. A priest was sent for, the Last Sacraments
were administered; but Benedict was too weak to receive Viaticum. The prayers
for the dying were said; at the words: "Holy Mary, pray for him,"
Benedict died, without a sigh or a convulsion. It was the 16th of April, 1783:
Benedict was thirty-five years of age.
And now some remarkable
things happened. His confessor and first biographer writes: "Scarcely had
this poor follower of Christ breathed his last when all at once the little
children from the houses hard by filled the whole street with their noise,
crying out with one accord: 'The Saint is dead, the Saint is dead.'—But
presently after they were not only young children who published the sanctity of
Benedict; all Rome soon joined in their cries, repeating the self-same words:
'A Saint is dead.' . . . Great numbers of persons who have been eminent for
their holiness, and famous for their miracles, have ended the days of their
mortal life in this city; but the death of none of them ever excited so rapid
and lively an emotion in the midst of the people as the death of this poor
beggar. This stirred a kind of universal commotion; for in the streets scarcely
anything could be heard but these few words: 'There is a saint dead in Rome.
Where is the house in which he has died?"'
Nor does this description
seem to have been exaggerated. Not only was it written within a year of the
event, so that anyone could bear witness to its truth; but we know that
scarcely was Benedict dead before two churches were contending for the
privilege of possessing his body. At length it was decided that it should be
given to S. Maria dei Monti, which he had most frequented; and thither, on the
Wednesday night, it was carried.
So great was the crowd
that the guard of police had to be doubled; a line of soldiers accompanied the
body to the church; more honor could scarcely have been paid to a royal corpse.
From the moment that it
was laid there the church was thronged with mourners; the next day, Maundy
Thursday, and again throughout Good Friday, it almost lay in state during all
the Holy Week services. The throng all the time went on increasing, so that the
Cardinal Vicar was moved to allow the body to remain unburied for four days.
People of every rank and condition gathered there; at the feet of Benedict the
Beggar all were made one. They buried him in the church, close beside the
altar, on Easter Sunday afternoon; when the body was placed in the coffin it
was remarked that it was soft and flexible, as of one who had but just been
dead.
But the enthusiasm did
not end with the funeral. Crowds continued to flock to the church, soldiers
were called out to keep order. At length the expedient was tried of closing the
church altogether for some days. It was of no avail; as soon as the church was
reopened the crowds came again, and continued coming for two months. Nothing
like it had been seen before, even in Rome; if ever anyone was declared a saint
by popular acclamation it was Benedict Joseph Labre, the beggar. Then the news
spread abroad. Within a year the name of Benedict was known all over Europe.
Lives of him began to appear, legends began to grow, miracles, true and false,
were reported from all sides; it was to secure an authentic story, among many
inventions, that his confessor was called upon to write the Life that we know.
Let us add one touching
note. All this time the father and mother, brothers and sisters of Benedict
were living in their home near Boulogne. For more than twelve years they had
heard nothing of him; they had long since presumed that he was dead.
Now, through these
rumors, it dawned upon them very gradually that the saint of whom all the world
was speaking was their son! "My son was dead, and is come to life again;
he was lost, and is found."
This excerpt is taken
from the book SAINTS FOR SINNERS by Alban Goodier, S.J.
IMAGE BOOKS EDITION 1959
A Division of Doubleday & Company, Inc. New York
by special arrangement with Sheed & Ward, Inc.
Image Books edition published September, 1959
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SOURCE : https://web.archive.org/web/20170723120240/http://www.ewtn.com/library/mary/stben.htm
_1.jpg)
Saint
Benedict Joseph Labre Church in Richmond Hill, Queens, New York.
Apr 17, 2024
April 16 Saint Benedict Joseph Labre: Levitated During Eucharistic Adoration.
1748-1783
Patronage: Unmarried men (bachelors)
rejects
mental illness
mentally ill people
insanity
beggars
hobos
the homeless
.
Saint Benedict Joseph is considered the patron saint of the homeless, single
men, and of those suffering with mental illness. As a clinical psychologist, I
find the life story of Saint Benedict Joseph both extremely poignant and
inspirational, and pray that his intercession may draw more attention to the
plight of the homeless and mentally ill around the world.
.
Benedict Joseph was born to a middle class family in France, the eldest of 15
children. His parents ensured that he was provided with the finest educational
opportunities as he matured, but Benedict Joseph only appeared interested in
those that would bring him closer to the Lord. From a young age he demonstrated
tendencies toward deprivation and mortification, avoiding the normal fun and
frivolous activities of childhood, and gravitating toward prayer and fasting.
As an adolescent, he was sent to live and care for an ailing uncle, who
continued his education in Latin and divinity.
.
Benedict Joseph was single-minded in his pursuit of holiness. He was determined
to enter a religious order, specifically the Trappists. For many years he
traveled to different orders, seeking admission, but was always turned away at
the onset due to his age, or following admission, due to his health. It is
likely, although unknown, that Benedict Joseph suffered from a serious mental
illness, yet throughout his suffering, remained true to the Lord, constantly
seeking a deeper union with Him.
.
Following his multiple rejections from religious orders, Benedict Joseph
changed his plan. As his confessor wrote in his biography, he determined “that
it was God's will that like St. Alexis he should abandon his country, his
parents, and whatever is flattering in the world to lead a new sort of life, a
life most painful, most penitential, not in a wilderness nor in a cloister, but
in the midst of the world, devoutly visiting as a pilgrim the famous places of
Christian devotion".
.
He did just that, leaving his home and family with only the clothes on his
back, two Rosaries, a crucifix, a Bible, a breviary, and some religious texts.
Having no food, he sustained himself on whatever he could find, refusing alms
offered to him, and giving anything in excess of what he needed to the poor. He
slept outside, on the ground, oftentimes trading comfort for discomfort so as
to suffer more. Saint Benedict Joseph traveled throughout Europe on foot for
approximately 13 years, estimated to have walked over 20,000 miles visiting
various religious pilgrimage sites and shrines. He finally settled in Rome, where
he lived on the streets for the last 6 years of his life.
.
It was in Rome that he became known as a “fool for Christ,” and the “Saint of
the Forty Hours” (Quarant’ Ore), due to his dedication to prolonged Eucharistic
adoration. During this adoration, or more pronounced when he meditated on the
crown of thorns worn by our Savior, Benedict Joseph is reported to have
levitated or bilocated. A host of additional miracles are attributed to him,
including miraculous cures of those he encountered, and multiplication of bread
and food for his fellow homeless. He was well-known throughout the city for his
holiness, kindness, and cheerful demeanor despite what was a very difficult
existence.
.
Saint Benedict Joseph Labre died of malnutrition in 1783. Due to his
popularity, his body was laid in state for nearly a week, and visited by
thousands during that time. 136 separate miraculous cures were attributed to
him in the first 3 months following his death. His body was laid in a tomb, at
an altar in a chapel of Santa Maria dei Monti in Rome, where it remains today.
.
The life of Saint Benedict Joseph Labre reminds us that the Lord loves and has
a beautiful plan for all His creations, despite what society may judge or view
them as. Despite his mental illness, Benedict Joseph continually strived
throughout his life to grow closer to the Lord, to serve Him, and to serve as
an example for others. He faced multiple rejections with grace, and eventually
changed his plan in obedience to God, never giving up his search for holiness.
We are challenged by the life of this saint to consider our own actions, both
when we encounter difficulties in our lives that prevent us from following the
will of God, and also when we encounter those individuals in our communities
who society has written off, marginalized, and judged as less than. What is our
mandate, as disciples of Christ, to those that are suffering?
.
34 Then shall the king say to them that shall be on His right hand: Come, ye
blessed of My Father, possess you the kingdom prepared for you from the
foundation of the world. 35 For I was hungry, and you gave Me to eat; I was
thirsty, and you gave Me to drink; I was a stranger, and you took Me in: 36
Naked, and you covered Me: sick, and you visited Me: I was in prison, and you came
to Me. 37 Then shall the just answer Him, saying: Lord, when did we see Thee
hungry, and fed Thee; thirsty, and gave Thee drink? 38 And when did we see Thee
a stranger, and took Thee in? or naked, and covered Thee? 39 Or when did we see
Thee sick or in prison, and came to Thee? 40 And the king answering, shall say
to them: Amen I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these My least
brethren, you did it to Me.(Matthew 25:34-40)
.
From 365 rosaries blogspot.
SOURCE : https://mariaangelagrow.substack.com/p/april-16-saint-benedict-joseph-labre-4f0
.jpg)
Gisant
de Saint Benoit Joseph Labre, église Sainte Marie des Monts, Rome
San Benedetto Giuseppe
Labre Pellegrino
Amettes, Francia, 26
marzo 1748 - Roma, 16 aprile 1783
Portato alla
contemplazione, desidero diventare trappista ma, per il suo spirito inquieto,
ebbe difficoltà a restare nei monasteri. Partì per Roma e lungo il percorso
scoprì la sua vera vocazione: Dio lo aveva messo sulla strada e qui sarebbe
rimasto. Divenne “ il vagabondo di Dio “ in compagnia dell’Imitazione di
Cristo, del breviario, di un Crocifisso e della corona del rosario, compì
pellegrinaggi in Italia e Francia, vivendo di carità che distribuiva i
bisognosi. Morì a Roma nel retrobottega del macellaio che lo aveva raccolto per
strada svenuto, dopo tredici anni vissuti pellegrinando, testimone, come soleva
dire, del fatto che “ in questo mondo siamo tutti pellegrini verso il Paradiso
“.
Patronato: Mendicanti,
Senzatetto
Etimologia: Benedetto =
che augura il bene, dal latino
Martirologio Romano: A
Roma, san Benedetto Giuseppe Labre, che, preso fin dall’adolescenza dal
desiderio di un’aspra vita di penitenza, intraprese faticosi pellegrinaggi a
celebri santuari, coperto soltanto di una povera e lacera veste, nutrendosi
soltanto del cibo che riceveva in elemosina e dando ovunque esempio di pietà e
penitenza; fece di Roma la meta ultima dei suoi viaggi, vivendo qui in estrema
povertà e in preghiera.
"Il pellegrino della Madonna”, “Il povero delle Quarantore”, “Il penitente del Colosseo”, “Il nuovo sant’Alessio”. Così il popolo romano chiamava Benedetto Giuseppe Labre, che morì a Roma a 35 anni. Un francese che trascorse parte della sua breve vita come pellegrino, sostando in preghiera davanti alle immagini più care della Madonna e davanti all’Eucarestia.
San Benedetto Giuseppe Labre, nacque ad Amette il 26 marzo del 1748, primo di quindici fratelli. Più tardi potè entrare nei Certosini, da cui usci quasi subito, e fra i trappisti di cui pure dovette allontanarsi per grave malattia. Di nuovo libero, si mosse al pellegrinaggio di Roma, secondo il voto fatto durante la convalescenza. Durante il viaggio ebbe una luce interna così viva sulla vocazione che gli era riservata, che non ne dubitò mai più. Egli diceva come S.Alessio: "Bisogna abbandonare la patria ed i propri parenti, per condurre una nuova specie di vita di estrema penitenza, ma in mezzo al mondo, visitando in pellegrinaggio i Santuari cattolici più celebrati". Si decise, adunque, dopo ripetute approvazioni di direttori spirituali, ad iniziare la lunga serie di pellegrinaggi, che durò tutta la sua vita.
Vestì un abito rozzo e logoro, trascurando ogni norma di igiene personale: non domandò mai elemosina: visitò nei primi sei anni Loreto, Assisi, Compostella, nella Spagna, i Santuari della Svizzera e della Francia.
Gli ultimi sei anni li trascorse a Roma, da dove ogni anno partiva per una visita alla Santa Casa di Loreto.
Poichè la più dolce compagnia di Benedetto Labre è Gesù e Maria, il Santuario dove si compì il mistero della Incarnazione, il Santuario testimone di tutte le virtù intime della Sacra Famiglia, Benedetto che portava pure il nome di Giuseppe e che onorava grandemente il casto Sposo della Santa Vergine, vorrebbe non abbandonarlo mai: ed infatti egli non se ne allontanerebbe, se il senso cristiano di cui egli è ben penetrato, non gli avesse fatto conoscere in Roma una fonte ancor più feconda di vita religiosa che in qualsiasi altro luogo. A Roma passa i suoi giorni e, quando può, anche le sue notti nelle chiese: egli sa venerare tutte le memorie dei Santi Apostoli e dei Martiri. Là egli è assiduo in tutte le chiese, secondo i turni fissati, dinnanzi al Santissimo Sacramento, tanto che a voce di popolo viene battezzato il povero delle Quarantore.
Lo si vedeva dinnanzi all'altare ora immobile come una statua, ora trasportato verso Dio da un impulso che si manifesta dal suo atteggiamento esteriore.
Attraverso tutti gli strappi delle sue vesti il lume della grazia, direi quasi della gloria, sfolgora da ogni parte: "Vedete dunque questo povero, esclamava un giorno una donna, come è buono! come è bello! Bello?! Sì: la stessa scrittura che ci dipinge Gesù Cristo come l'uomo abietto e l'ultimo degli esseri, ce lo rappresenta altrove il più bello dei figli degli uomini.
Ora Benedetto Labre ha conciliato in sè questo doppia caratteristica , che i profeti avevano dato di Cristo: un tipo superiore si rivela attraverso questa grossolana corteccia. Egli è il rifiuto del mondo, eppure nè è il fiore.
Alla fine, logoro dalle austerità, Benedetto Labre il 16 aprile del 1783 cadde
sui gradini della Chiesa di S. Maria dei Monti a Roma e, portato in una casa
vicina, vi morì. La sua morte fu seguita da una grande quantità di grazie e di
miracoli. Fu beatificato da Pio IX nel 1839 e canonizzato da Leone XIII
l'8 dicembre 1883.
Autore: Don Luca
Roveda
Antonio Cavallucci (1752–1795),
Saint Benedict Joseph Labre, 1795, 59.4 x
45.4, Museum of Fine Arts Boston
In questo mondo siamo tutti pellegrini nella valle di lacrime: camminiamo sempre per la via sicura della Religione, in Fede, Speranza, Carità, Umiltà, Orazione, Pazienza e Mortificazione cristiana, per giungere alla nostra patria del Paradiso". Era questa una delle massime preferite di S. Benedetto Giuseppe Labre, che ben corrisponde alla sua testimonianza di vita. Dei 35 anni che visse, almeno 13 li passò da "pellegrino" sulla strada. A giusto titolo perciò lo si definì "il vagabondo di Dio" o anche "lo zingaro di Cristo", espressioni ben più tenere che non "santo dei pidocchi", come venne pure denominato.
Benedetto Giuseppe Labre nacque ad Amettes, presso Arras, il 26 marzo 1748, primo di 15 figli di modesti agricoltori. Fece qualche studio presso la scuola del villaggio e apprese i primi rudimenti del latino presso uno zio materno. Portato più alla vita contemplativa che al sacerdozio, sollecitò invano dai genitori il permesso di farsi trappista. Solo a diciotto anni poté fare richiesta d'ingresso alla certosa di S. Aldegonda, ma il parere dei monaci fu contrario. Stessa ripulsa ricevette dai cistercensi di Montagne in Normandia, dove giunse dopo aver percorso a piedi 60 leghe in pieno inverno. Solo sei settimane durò il suo soggiorno nella certosa di Neuville, e poco di più rimase nell'abbazia cistercense di Sept-Fons, di cui però avrebbe sempre portato la tunica e lo scapolare di novizio.
A 22 anni prese la grande decisione: il suo monastero sarebbe stato la strada, e più precisamente le strade di Roma. Nel sacco di povero pellegrino portava tutti i suoi tesori: il Nuovo Testamento, l'Imitazione di Cristo e il breviario che recitava ogni giorno; sul petto portava un crocifisso, al collo una corona e tra le mani un rosario. Mangiava appena un tozzo dì pane e qualche erba; non chiedeva la carità e, se la riceveva, si affrettava a renderne partecipi gli altri poveri, anche a rischio che il donatore, scorgendovi un gesto di scontentezza, facesse seguire alla moneta una gragnuola di bastonate (come effettivamente avvenne un giorno). Di notte riposava tra le rovine del Colosseo e le sue giornate le passava nella preghiera contemplativa e nei pellegrinaggi ai vari santuari: uno dei più cari al suo cuore fu quello di Loreto.
Morì logorato dagli stenti e dall'assoluta mancanza d'igiene il 16 aprile 1783, nel retrobottega del macellaio Zaccarelli, presso la chiesa di S. Maria dei Monti, in cui venne sepolto tra grande concorso di popolo. Venne canonizzato nel 1881 da Leone XIII.
Autore: Piero Bargellini
SOURCE : http://www.santiebeati.it/dettaglio/49600
Saint
Benedict Joseph Labre
Nicolò
Pizzitola, San Benedetto Giuseppe Labre
Benedetto Giuseppe Labre
(1748-1783)
Beatificazione:
- 20 maggio 1860
- Papa Pio IX
Canonizzazione:
- 08 dicembre 1881
- Papa Leone XIII
- Basilica Vaticana
Ricorrenza:
- 16 aprile
Benedetto Giuseppe Labre secondo Lorenzo Bracaloni
Santa Messa in occasione del 85° genetliaco del Santo Padre
Benedetto XVI
Pellegrino francese, preso
fin dall’adolescenza dal desiderio di un’aspra vita di penitenza, intraprese
faticosi pellegrinaggi a celebri santuari, coperto soltanto di una povera e
lacera veste, nutrendosi soltanto del cibo che riceveva in elemosina e dando
ovunque esempio di pietà e penitenza; fece di Roma la meta ultima dei suoi
viaggi, vivendo qui in estrema povertà e in preghiera
Soprannominato “il
vagabondo di Dio”
Benoît-Joseph Labre nasce
ad Amettes, Francia, il 26 marzo 1748, primo di quindici fratelli.
Più tardi potè entrare
nei Certosini, da cui usci quasi subito, e fra i trappisti di cui pure dovette
allontanarsi per grave malattia. Di nuovo libero, si mosse al pellegrinaggio di
Roma, secondo il voto fatto durante la convalescenza. Durante il viaggio ebbe
una luce interna così viva sulla vocazione che gli era riservata, che non ne
dubitò mai più.
Soprannominato “il
vagabondo di Dio”, decide che il suo monastero sarà la strada. Con il
crocifisso e il breviario è pellegrino in Francia e in Italia e vive di carità
che condivide con altri.
Trascorre gli ultimi 6
anni a Roma, dove muore nel 1783.
È canonizzato da Leone
XIII.
SOURCE : https://www.causesanti.va/it/santi-e-beati/benedetto-giuseppe-labre.html
Benedetto Giuseppe
Labre secondo Lorenzo Bracaloni
Sulla strada
Giovedì
16 aprile è la festa liturgica di san Benedetto Giuseppe Labre. Questo
"vagabondo di Dio" venne a lungo studiato da Lorenzo Bracaloni,
giornalista e scrittore raffinato che per circa un quarantennio collaborò con
il nostro giornale. Lo stretto legame fra questi due personaggi è raccontato in
un articolo - di cui anticipiamo la prima parte - dedicato "Alla memoria
di padre Giuseppe Ferrari (morto l'11 aprile 2008), oratoriano, prete
evangelico secondo il cuore di Filippo Neri" e contenuto nella settantesima Strenna
dei Romanisti. Il volume sarà presentato, come di consueto in occasione del
Natale di Roma, il 21 aprile in Campidoglio.
di
Paolo Vian
Non si pensi a Jack Kerouac e alla sua avventurosa traversata degli States degli anni Cinquanta. La prima parte del titolo intende piuttosto evocare la caratteristica comune che unisce la vita di san Benedetto Giuseppe Labre, morto a Roma il 16 aprile 1783 quasi sulle scale della chiesa di Santa Maria ai Monti, e un suo singolare biografo, lo scrittore "romano" Lorenzo Bracaloni. Le virgolette sono d'obbligo perché Bracaloni non appartenne per nascita alla città in cui pur visse quasi metà della sua esistenza e alla quale legò buona parte della sua produzione giornalistica e letteraria. Ma, come accadde a molti fiorentini giunti prima di lui sulle rive del Tevere - uno per tutti, Filippo Neri - l'Urbe fu per Bracaloni, più che un'esperienza letteraria, un approdo e un luogo dello Spirito, per lo stesso motivo per cui la sua scrittura fu sempre, prima che un esercizio di stile, una milizia gioiosamente cristiana. Eppure, alcune sue pagine dedicate a Roma - penso, per esempio, a quelle sull'oleandro di Porta Capena, sul burattinaio del Pincio, sulle rose di autunno all'Aventino o su Armando Spadini "pittore della famiglia" - meriterebbero di essere scelte per un'ideale antologia romanistica. Trascurato dalla critica e ora largamente dimenticato, Bracaloni a quasi trent'anni dalla morte merita oggi di essere rivisitato e riscattato da un oblio tanto ingiusto quanto prevedibile e da lui forse voluto. Le sue scelte, come si vedrà, non furono mai dettate dall'interesse e dalla ricerca della notorietà, ma seguirono un percorso interiore che nel tempo appare chiaro e luminoso e per molti versi lo assimila al santo di cui nel 1946 scrisse, quasi come un ex voto, la biografia.
Era nato a Firenze il 10 agosto 1901, nel giorno del santo che probabilmente ispirò ai genitori la scelta del nome per il neonato, nella gran vampa dell'estate che in seguito avrebbe amato. Il padre era medico e si ricorda che fu lui a prestare le prime cure a Carlo Lorenzini, il Collodi, quando la sera del 26 ottobre 1890 il babbo di Pinocchio fu colpito dal male che lo condusse a morte.
L'amore per la scienza passò "per li rami", da padre a figlio. Laureato in chimica, avviato come tale alla carriera militare in un corpo speciale dell'esercito, Lorenzo coltivò presto anche un'altra, diversa inclinazione, incominciando a scrivere, dal luglio 1931, nella rivista fiorentina "Il frontespizio" e poi nella "Rivista dei giovani" del salesiano Angelo Cojazzi. Del cattolicesimo letterario fiorentino fra gli anni Venti e Trenta i volumi di Bracaloni, tutti pubblicati fra il 1936 e il 1949 - spesso per i tipi dell'editore fiorentino Giannini e con illustrazioni dello stesso Giulio Giannini iunior - recano lo stigma, con pagine che, insieme, fanno pensare a Nicola Lisi e Carlo Betocchi, a Piero Bargellini e Tito Casini - senza dimenticare, sullo sfondo, i grandi numi tutelari, Giovanni Papini e Domenico Giuliotti, ma senza riprenderne le indignazioni e le sfuriate polemiche. Le sue sono invece pagine miti e quiete, in bilico fra l'osservazione della realtà minuta e quotidiana e un'atmosfera quasi di favola, di apologo morale, di poesia. Si incomincia, all'insegna di un sano buon umore, con una Scelta di facezie e burle del Piovano Arlotto (Firenze, 1936) e si prosegue, prima della guerra, con "... Andrem sulla montagna" (Firenze, 1937) testimonianza della passione per le escursioni alpine dell'autore; Il gusto delle cose buone (Torino 1939) da alcuni ritenuto il suo libro forse più bello: "cinquanta prose, con campagne, montagne, città, e incontri su tutte le strade di umile gente"; Le parole turchine (Roma, 1939), una raccolta di novelle fra realtà e fantasia. Dopo lo scoppio del conflitto, escono Il capolavoro di Giosuè Borsi: la sua vita. Conversazioni con la mamma (Vicenza, 1941); Amici (Pisa, 1942) con significativa prefazione di Giorgio La Pira; Giugno, bel sole (Firenze, 1942); Le freccie di San Sebastiano (Roma, 1943). Spiccata è l'attenzione agiografica: non solo, come si è visto, per la figura del toscano Borsi, caduto a Zagora nel 1915, occasione di riconciliazione del cattolicesimo italiano con gli ideali della patria, ma anche per il questuante cappuccino Francesco Maria da Camporosso, il "Padre Santo", anche lui sempre on the road, per quarant'anni fra il popolo di Genova, nel porto, fra i "carrugi", immerso nelle miserie e nelle sofferenze della gente, sino a contrarre il colera e a morirne nel 1866 (Questuante benefico: san Francesco Maria da Camporosso, cappuccino, Genova, s.d.); e per Maria Goretti (La beata Maria Goretti vive in mezzo a noi, Vicenza, 1948). Sempre costante, e sottesa anche alle scritture agiografiche, è in Bracaloni la preoccupazione educativa: nelle sue pagine protagonisti o destinatari del discorso sono spesso i giovani, i ragazzi, ai quali comunicare un codice di comportamento intessuto di virtù, che però nulla ha della tristezza musona dei moralismi, ma sprizza la gioia che scaturisce da un incontro e si propaga nella vita - esemplare in questo senso, sin dal titolo, l'ultimo volume, Baldoria a sant'Ilario. 15 conversazioni allegre coi giovani (Torino, 1949). Chi legga le pagine di Bracaloni degli anni Trenta e Quaranta e pensi contemporaneamente ai modelli pedagogici allora proposti e ovunque dominanti si rende conto del coraggio di quelle scelte controcorrente. Sostenute da un'osservazione attenta e acuta della realtà che rivela la stoffa del moralista, diversa però dalla lignée austera dei grandi francesi. Per il tono conversevole e bonario, vengono piuttosto in mente i predicatori toscani medievali, osservatori di virtù e vizi, ma con una naturalezza, un'umanità, una simpatia scherzosa e lieve che rendono talune pagine indimenticabili. Il Bracaloni che però a mio avviso merita ancora di essere letto rimane, più che quello agiografico-pedagogico, l'autore di memorie e ritratti, bozzetti e apologhi, spesso nati nel ritiro di una casa di famiglia sulle colline fiorentine, Poggio Bianco a La Romola, fra oliveti e boschi di pini. Nel genere lo scrittore, profondo ma lieve, saggioma così poco sentenzioso, continua davvero a essere di una struggente bellezza che irradia serenità.
Al termine della guerra Bracaloni si stabilì definitivamente a Roma, dove, come vedremo, aveva vissuto i drammatici mesi della "città aperta". Dopo un colloquio nell'autunno 1943 col Sostituto della Segreteria di Stato Giovanni Battista Montini, incominciò dagli inizi del 1944 a collaborare a "L'Osservatore Romano", di cui col tempo divenne una firma frequente e apprezzata - con circa 2.000 articoli. E "l'andare per il mondo, che gli era piaciuto sempre, si fece consuetudine: da Roma, presa per residenza, a Firenze, alla Liguria, a Venezia, alle Marche. I paesaggi naturali, i monumenti e opere d'arte, i luoghi della pietà - a Lourdes pellegrinò decine di volte - rappresentarono i punti d'attrazione, e segnarono i tempi del suo calendario, come diedero materia a quanto scrisse", una "specie di taccuino spirituale, tenuto per più di trent'anni", singolari e inimitabili Reisebilder pubblicati nel giornale vaticano col titolo Stati d'animo e nel numero di quasi quattrocento - una scelta di essi, 34 in tutto, si pubblicò nel 1960 col titolo Teatrino spirituale del mondo.
Lo ricordo alto, con la testa quasi sempre completamente rasata, gli occhiali dalla montatura pesante poggiati su un robusto naso in mezzo a due grandi occhi scuri protesi sul mondo, sempre in giacca, ma immancabilmente senza cravatta, con la camicia abbottonata; un'eleganza ruvida, quasi ascetica che però nulla aveva di triste, ma esprimeva sorridente arguzia, gioia e benevolenza verso il mondo e la gente. Abitava a piazza Cavour 3, nell'isolato che confina con piazza Adriana, e fu per molti anni a pensione da alcune vecchie signorine, che sembravano uscite da qualche pagina di Palazzeschi. Dal suo austero alloggio di scapolo, all'ombra del Palazzaccio e di Castel Sant'Angelo, passando per i Borghi, arrivava rapidamente alla redazione de "L'Osservatore Romano", in via del Pellegrino, ove aveva una scrivania nello stanzone dei correttori di bozze ed era partecipe di interminabili discussioni per essere "i migliori fabbri del parlar materno" - a dare idea del livello, fra gli interlocutori vi era un certo Gigi Huetter. Con la pensione del suo alto grado nell'esercito e con i magri compensi di collaboratore dell'"Osservatore", visse così in una povertà lietamente voluta. E peregrinava per chiese e santuari, basiliche e monumenti, scrutando la natura e il mondo "con occhi intenti e buoni", per darne una rappresentazione "spirituale". Alla fine, però, anche il "viandante instancabile" si fermò, colpito da un ictus nel dicembre 1977 - poche settimane dopo la morte del suo amico La Pira. Tornò, certo a malincuore, a Firenze, nella casa di via Agnolo Poliziano 15; e trascorse gli ultimi cinque anni della sua vita fra le mura domestiche sulle rive del Mugnone e il "bel San Giovanni". Morì il 3 aprile 1982.
In questa vita senza scosse, all'inizio degli anni Quaranta si colloca una
svolta. Un mutamento non di fede o di modo di pensare, ma certo d'indirizzo di
vita e di costume. L'alto ufficiale del corpo chimico dell'Esercito, che
scriveva per diletto e per passione, ricordato per l'eleganza ricercata del
vestire, visse con intensità la tragedia italiana dell'8 settembre 1943. Vagò
di città in città, sotto i bombardamenti. Da quell'esperienza uscì trasformato.
Lasciò l'esercito e l'Istituto Farmaceutico Militare di via Reginaldo Giuliani
e si dedicò completamente alla scrittura, per testimoniare. Rinunciò a La
Romola, forse per fuggire da un mondo che stava per morire, ma che si amava
troppo per vederlo finire. Scelse la parola del quotidiano, effimera ma
necessaria e benefica come il pane. Al cuore di quelle vicende
si colloca un periodo vissuto a Roma, come lo stesso Bracaloni ricordò in
apertura della biografia del Labre, che appunto nacque come una sorta di ex
voto per il santo pellegrino: "Avevo un grosso debito di
riconoscenza verso san Benedetto Labre: per sette mesi, dall'11 novembre
del 1943 al 5 giugno del 1944, ho condotto in Roma, sotto la sua speciale
protezione, un genere di vita molto simile al suo. E Lui, che mi ero eletto a
celeste patrono, mi ha provveduto del necessario, e scampato da ogni pericolo".
L'attenzione di Bracaloni per Labre era certo rara nel cattolicesimo italiano
di allora - come lo è, decisamente, in quello di oggi. La maggior parte delle
biografie italiane - quelle di Antonino Maria Di Jorio (1881), Angelico Canepa
(1883), Paolo Delucchi (1885), Vincenzo Sardi (1891) - risale all'Ottocento ed
è soprattutto legata alla notorietà e all'interesse seguiti alla beatificazione
del 1860 e alla canonizzazione del 1881 - ma recenti sono quelle di Maria
Mazzei e Silvio Menghini. A differenza dell'editoria francese - che vanta una
serie, lunga e corposa, di biografi; per ricordarne solo alcuni, Alexandre
Colomb, Benedict du Bousquet, Agnès de La Gorce, Joseph Richard, Pierre Doyère,
André Dhotel, André Louf - si direbbe che l'agiografia italiana si sia
letteralmente scandalizzata del mendico straccione che si aggirava, sporco e
stralunato, per le strade di Roma, col suo seguito di pulci. Ma, contemporaneo
a Bracaloni, ci fu un prete "romano" che amò molto Labre proprio per
i suoi aspetti di marginale e di outsider, nei quali amava talvolta
identificarsi. Don Giuseppe De Luca, il fondatore dell'"Archivio italiano
per la storia della pietà" e delle Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, una
delle figure più interessanti e geniali del cattolicesimo italiano del XX
secolo, scelse Labre fra i santi le cui immagini dovevano essere presenti nella
cappella privata che l'amico Giacomo Manzù gli andava allestendo per la sua
casa nel Palazzo San Calisto a Trastevere. Labre era uno di quei santi
"umili" - come Bernadette e Teresa di Lisieux - nei quali De Luca
sentiva più forte il fuoco interiore e sapeva più amati proprio dalla povera
gente. Probabilmente, al Labre, De Luca deve avere tante volte avvicinato la
singolare figura di Giuseppe Sandri - il fratello del più celebre archivista
Leopoldo - che, da "prete in carriera", lasciò, dopo una decisiva
conversazione con De Luca nel 1932, nunziature e congregazioni per abbracciare
una vita mendica e randagia, di romito itinerante per predicare il Vangelo,
nella scia del primo Filippo Neri e, appunto, di Benedetto Labre. A tratti De
Luca penserà anche a se stesso, impegnato nella missione ai confini del
Regno, in partibus infidelium, come una sorta di Benedetto Labre.
"Morirò - scriverà il 6 agosto 1959 al cardinale Giovanni Battista Montini
- sui gradini della chiesa, fuori, sul limitare, come san Gius. Bened.
Labre".
De Luca, dunque. Probabilmente fu proprio lui, che ispirava le scelte editoriali delle Edizioni Liturgiche Missionarie del prete della Missione Francesco Bossarelli, alle origini della decisione di ospitare il volumetto di Bracaloni nella collana "I poveri" diretta dal giornalista Enrico Lucatello (che era stato il primo direttore de "Il frontespizio"), della quale fu il diciassettesimo titolo, stampato dall'Istituto Grafico Tiberino guidato dal fratello di De Luca, Luigi. Forse proprio a De Luca si possono ricondurre le parole programmatiche della serie, che ospitò titoli, antichi e nuovi, da Basilio Magno a Giovanni Crisostomo, da Gregorio Nazianzeno a Luigi Moresco, passando per il cinquecentesco Giovanni Guidiccioni con la sua celebre orazione ai nobili di Lucca curata da Carlo Dionisotti. Tutto sotto il segno del povero, una figura dalla quale l'Italia degli anni del conflitto e del dopoguerra poteva a buon diritto voler scappare:
Dinanzi a noi c'è sempre un povero: abbiamo un bel tentare di dimenticarlo, un bel crollare la testa per scacciare l'immagine, il povero è sempre lì, con gli occhi fissi, con i suoi cenci logori, con la mano tesa, con le ginocchia strette e freddolose. E anche quando non fa il povero, è un povero; anche se non parla, chiede: chiede quel che a noi supera i nostri bisogni, per i suoi bisogni che lo superano. Se alza la voce passa per l'aria come il vento della bufera, se allunga la mano per prendere quello che non vogliamo dargli, la società lo colpisce. Egli è il nostro specchio nel quale ci riflettiamo interi, perché egli è Lui: il solo vero povero che stende la mano con tutti i poveri del mondo: Gesù.
E chi più di Benedetto Labre era degno di comparire in una simile collana? E chi più del lapiriano Bracaloni, povero, pellegrino e viandante per vocazione, era adatto a scriverne?
(©L'Osservatore Romano 16 aprile 2009)
SOURCE : https://www.vatican.va/news_services/or/or_quo/cultura/087q05a1.html
memoria liturgica
San Benedetto Giuseppe
Labre, il "vagabondo di Dio"
Ascolta la versione audio
dell'articolo
Pellegrino a vita, laico,
senza dimora: il santo mendicante si fermava solo per adorare Gesù
eucaristia e il suo pellegrinaggio si concluse nella Città Eterna.
Ecclesia 16_04_2024
Nel pieno centro di Roma,
vicino a via Cavour e a pochi passi dal Colosseo, sorge la chiesa di Santa
Maria ai Monti. È una piccola chiesa, ricca d’arte e fede, che si trova a pochi
metri da uno dei centri più conosciuti della movida romana: piazza della
Madonna dei Monti. Qui, molti giovani turisti si mescolano ad altrettanti
numerosi giovani romani. I locali alla moda presenti nella piazzetta sono
pronti ad accogliere tantissimi ragazzi ogni sera. Il loro vociare irrompe
nelle strade adiacenti. Ma, in tutto questo baillame, la chiesa di Santa Maria
ai Monti, nel suo silenzio, nella sua sacralità, ricorda a tutti la voce più
importante: quella di Dio.
È in questa chiesa che
riposa il corpo di un santo straordinario: è san Benedetto Giuseppe Labre di
cui oggi ricorre la memoria liturgica. La sua tomba è colma di biglietti, di
richieste di preghiera. Il suo corpo, ritratto in quel marmo così candido,
ricorda la sua purezza. Il suo viso, giovane, non può che affascinare ogni
fedele che vi si avvicina. Ma un particolare soprattutto ci colpisce: i suoi
piedi sono scalzi. In fondo, proprio questo elemento, potrebbe considerarsi
l’emblema di tutta la sua esistenza: a piedi nudi, in cerca del Signore e della
sua Parola. Pellegrino a vita, laico, senza dimora, che ha vissuto per la
strada, tra i più poveri: è tutto ciò san Benedetto Giuseppe Labre. ll suo
unico desiderio: conoscere Dio ed essere vicino ai più poveri. In loro, il
santo «vagabondo di Dio» (con questo appellativo sarà conosciuto da tutti),
vedeva Cristo sulla Croce, carico della sofferenza. Morirà giovane san
Benedetto Giuseppe Labre: a soli 35 anni, il 16 aprile del 1783.
Era nato ad Amette, nel
Nord della Francia al confine con il Belgio, il 26 marzo del 1748. Era il
primo di quindici fratelli. Entrò nei Certosini, per poi uscirne quasi subito.
Poco dopo provò a vivere tra i monaci Trappisti. Ma anche questa non era la sua
strada: erano, infatti, altre le vie che lo attendevano. Da questo momento in
poi cominciava il suo lungo, innarrestabile pellegrinaggio: Loreto; Assisi;
Compostella, nella Spagna; i santuari della Svizzera. Gli ultimi sei anni di
vita li trascorse a Roma: dalla Città Eterna, ogni anno, partiva come
pellegrino alla volta della Santa Casa di Loreto. Nel suo soggiorno a Roma si
trovava a visitare diverse chiese al giorno, così da poter essere presente a
più adorazioni eucaristiche nell’arco della stessa giornata: una contemplazione
della Santissima Eucaristia continua, senza sosta, per essere sempre vicino al
Signore. Questo suo peregrinare, davvero, rimane qualcosa di straordinario
ancora oggi: un’anima e un corpo in continuo movimento.
La sua bisaccia era colma
di Dio: portava sempre con sé il libro L’imitazione di Cristo in
latino; il Memoriale della vita cristiana del padre domenicano Louis
de Grenade (1504 - 1588); l’ Epistola di Gesù Cristo alle anime
fedeli, un trattato spirituale del certosino Jean Juste Lanspergio (1489 -
1539); un testo dal titolo Esercizio della Via Crucis e uno
intitolato L’Ufficio dei sette dolori della Vergine. E poi,
delle immaginette sacre a lui care come il Bambino dell’Ara Coeli e
l’immancabile effigie della Vergine di Loreto.
E proprio alla Vergine
Maria il santo si sentiva particolarmente legato: «A qual grado salisse questa
tenerissima filiale devozione verso la Vergine nel nostro Benedetto Giuseppe
non è facile a ridirsi. […] Bastava vederlo genuflesso avanti ai suoi altari
per vederne gli interni trasporti di tenerezza verso di Lei, scorgendosi dagli
occhi, che di tanto in tanto alcun poco apriva, gli interni sentimenti del suo
spirito, come io stesso con mia grande edificazione ho osservato, e come è noto
ad una grande moltitudine di testimoni, che lo hanno veduto nelle chiese
dedicate a Maria Santissima e specialmente in quelle ove si venerano le sue
immagini più insigni» (P. Marconi, Ragguaglio della vita del Servo di Dio
Benedetto Giuseppe Labre scritto dal suo medesimo confessore, 1783).
Il 16 aprile del 1783,
giorno della sua morte, era mercoledì santo. Benedetto era riuscito a stento,
ormai stanco nel fisico, a essere presente alla funzione nella chiesa di Santa
Maria ai Monti. Gli abitanti del quartiere che lo videro così pallido
credettero che sarebbe morto durante la lettura. Ma il santo, debole nel corpo
ma non nell’anima, rimase fino al termine della funzione religiosa. Solo
all’uscita si accasciò sulle scale della chiesa. Fu allora portato in
casa di un macellaio, tale Francesco Zaccarelli che che abitava nell'adiacente
via dei Serpenti. Fu il figlio Pierpaolo a portarlo nella loro casa per
offrirgli un letto in cui morire degnamente. In questa casa, all’ora della
preghiera dei Vespri, dopo aver ricevuto l’estrema unzione, il santo raggiunse
il Cielo.
Il corpo fu poi
trasportato nella chiesa di Santa Maria ai Monti dove «dalla sera del
giovedì santo fino alla domenica di Pasqua la salma del mendicante fu esposta
[…]. I soldati corsi che montavano la guardia alle porte di Roma furono
chiamati dalla loro vicina caserma per assicurare il difficile servizio
d’ordine» (Agnes De La Gorce, Un povero che trovò la gioia, Parigi
1936, Ed. Pro Sanctitate, 1992). Un incredibile afflusso di fedeli gli rendeva
l’ultimo omaggio. Quell’uomo che sembrava a molti un povero e semplice
«vagabondo» era invece un santo amato da tutto il popolo romano.
SOURCE : https://lanuovabq.it/it/san-benedetto-giuseppe-labre-il-vagabondo-di-dio
Voir aussi : https://www.amis-benoit-labre.net/pdf/labreseminaristejean.pdf
http://www.fraterstbenoitlabre.com/
http://surlespasdessaints.over-blog.com/article-18611573.html
