Sharing testimonies
and favors received

During the summer of 2024, someone was seeking a peaceful space to gather their thoughts and take a moment of rest. The door to the historic church, near 32 Charlevoix Street, was open, so they entered.

After a few moments of silence and reflection, they took the opportunity to learn about the Blessed Marie-Catherine de Saint-Augustin and read the document presenting the history and all the works of art in the historic church.

They left feeling happy and enriched by the place but deeply moved by the silence and beauty of the space. And, they had gained a new friend in the person of Blessed Marie-Catherine de Saint-Augustin.

The author of this account shares their experience after having, on several occasions, accompanied groups of pilgrims—mostly English-speaking—who came to pray at the shrine of Blessed Marie-Catherine de Saint-Augustin.

Marie-Catherine de Saint-Augustin, a witness for today

This religious woman, deeply devoted to God's will to the point of becoming "this inventive witness of God's charity," according to John Paul II, may seem at first distant from the reality of our contemporary world, even miles away from a path to holiness for those seeking to follow Christ. And yet...

This "masterpiece of the Holy Spirit," as Saint François de Laval described her, can only be relevant if her source is "He who breathes where He wills." This is why, for me—someone on the path to the priesthood, with connections to Saint Charles Garnier, Saint Marguerite d'Youville, and Jeanne Leber—her example of current relevance is a call and urgent invitation to holiness, to the point that I cannot help but feel an eternal debt to the intercession of our dear Blessed Catherine.

Though it is true that one must travel far to discover what is very close, it was while on a mission in Lithuania, when I was a Brother of Saint John, that I began to discover Catherine. At that time, the Prior was the exorcist for the Diocese of Vilnius, and all the brothers were more or less involved in this ministry, at least through prayer. My first approach to her was as one seeking "power," like a pilgrim going to a thaumaturgic saint for healing. Like many faithful, my devotion to Blessed Catherine began with what she could do for me, not the path she was inviting me to take.

I had no idea that this contact would lead me to deepen and enter the depths of my soul with her. After all, how many people remain in their devotion only because of specific needs? For me, she remained trapped in a shallow, utilitarian devotion until 2011.

In 2011, I was entrusted with a parish bulletin in Windsor's Saint-Philippe Parish to speak about local holiness, and I was assigned to present a figure of faith over several months. 2010 had been dedicated to Saint Brother André due to his canonization, and 2011 was dedicated to Catherine.

As I read and reread her life, and as I worked to make it more accessible, I came to understand why the First Nations called her "the one who makes the inside more beautiful," and how she could make my inner being and my intimacy with Christ worthy of what He expected of me... at least my mind understood it, but my heart had not yet caught up. Looking back, I wish I had known how to take advantage of this testimony, how to profit from it. I would not have been discouraged during the moments of crosses and temptations that marked my journey, and I probably would have been a priest by now. If I had, like her, been bound to my vocation by the nails of my calling in this land, by God's will and the salvation of souls, if only I had understood how vital her experience was, these lost years might have served a different purpose than being entrusted to the fiery furnace of God's mercy.

That is why I write today about the current relevance of Catherine de Saint-Augustin's holiness, as my heart deeply hopes for her canonization. The universality of this message is crucial for our Church and the world in this Third Millennium.

Indeed, one of the key aspects of Catherine's spirituality is submission to and the search for God's will, which becomes a goal so much so that she preferred it, even from a young age, to comfort and accepted suffering if it was part of God's divine plan. (The Life of Mother Catherine de Saint-Augustin, Father Paul Ragueneau, page 23).

In our world, so far removed from this perspective, where everyone seeks to define themselves often according to their impulses, passions, emotions, and a widespread refusal of suffering as part of the human reality, the humble hospitaller reminds us that we build ourselves like giants of bronze with feet of clay—surely splendid but fragile, as everything relies on our own strength and not on God, who is strength and meaning through His will that we must seek and cherish. In a century where the response to suffering is the euphemistic "assisted dying," Blessed Augustine of Mercy offers help to live with dignity despite suffering, because her life, based on her community's rule, encompasses the holistic nature of the person and refuses to see suffering as separate from the experience of life. She does not allow anyone to fall into despair, but instead offers a path of peace and trust in the face of what she called "the great dragon ready to devour" (cf. Healing from the Plague, p. 39-40).

In a world where Jean de La Fontaine would find many "frogs who want to make themselves as big as an ox," she stands apart, reminding us that,

"Those who desire extraordinary things, which often shine more brightly than they are solid, expose themselves to the danger of losing humility and being easily deceived by the devil, who transforms himself into an angel of light, and who already has great access to the souls of those who overestimate such things—visions, apparitions, revelations, the gift of miracles; who desire them for themselves and do not distance themselves from them; and who should rather consider themselves unworthy of such things." (Father Paul Ragueneau, The Life of Mother Catherine de Saint-Augustin, Book Three: Her Life Obsessed by Demons, and Possessed by God, Chapter 3, pages 103-104)

For her, one can only ardently seek God's will by passing through the way of humility, which seems to be the royal road she walked despite all the mystical phenomena and divine graces she received throughout her short life; experiences that one might classify as positive (the Trinity, the Virgin, saints like Jean de Brébeuf) and those negative (the demons).

Certainly, this language seems more appropriate to the "Golden Legend" of Jacques de Voragine. However, is there not an aggiornamento (updating) that is necessary to help us grasp the very charism of Catherine de Saint-Augustin? Indeed, Catherine understood the importance of the communion of saints through what one might discreetly call "conversations with heaven." In this century, where isolation wreaks havoc (just think of the last pandemic), her mystical experience stands as a vibrant testimony that the believer is never alone. And even more: the Blessed Hospitaller, in her charism as "the one who pacifies the soul," cannot she also teach us to heal and cure our gaze upon the other, creating a filial affection that would lead, to borrow a term dear to Pope Francis in Gaudete et Exsultate, to seeing holiness in others, the holiness of the person next door? (Ch. 1 no. 7)

This questioning raises another point that deserves to be updated or contextualized. It is undeniable that using terms like "prison of demons" might have the same effect as Paul's speech at the Areopagus. However, who can deny the omnipresence of evil and the "omni-absence" of God in our world? Who can deny the rise of intolerance, irritability, and violence today? Who can deny the rise of anxiety at the same pace as pharmaceutical profits?

This questioning raises another point that deserves to be updated or contextualized. It is undeniable that using terms like "prison of demons" might have the same effect as Paul's speech at the Areopagus. However, who can deny the omnipresence of evil and the "omni-absence" of God in our world? Who can deny the rise of intolerance, irritability, and violence today? Who can deny the rise of anxiety at the same pace as pharmaceutical profits?

In this wounded world of ours, Catherine comes to transpose, through her life, the teaching of Psalm 130. In this world with a proud heart and ambitious gaze, she invites us to humility to find that rest for the soul, akin to the child nestled in its mother's arms. As a daughter of Saint Augustine, she offers a path to find true rest because she understood "that our heart is restless until it rests in You," to paraphrase the Bishop of Hippo. It is in this same spirit that she wrote to her aunt, "I find my peace and rest, and a joy that can never be taken away by anyone in the world." Furthermore, the image of prison remains powerful today: indeed, all those false pretenses, often stemming from social pressure, are prisons with keys that are inaccessible and, alas, sometimes a life sentence for those who resign themselves to them. On the other hand, the Blessed Hospitaller shows us that it is possible to open the door of such prisons with the key of God's will, which calls us to love because He is love. But she also teaches us today to lock away all these modern demons, like hasty judgments that technology enables in a comment thread, which the audacity of the screen generates. Her self-giving can re-educate us and heal us from these fleeting pleasures offered by reality TV that commodifies love; her love for the country can help us understand the importance today of striving to be those who make the inside beautiful, so that, like a ripple effect, our world becomes beautiful. Catherine can teach us to close the doors we need to close to grow in love and peace, and she can teach us patience to do so because these doors do not always close with the click of a mouse.

She who heard the Virgin Mother tell her that the Child God suffers from the cold because no one gives Him a robe and wants to warm Him (p. 83-84)—how can we not see in this concern for the Little King of Heaven a call to turn toward the most abandoned?

She who, to paraphrase Saint François de Laval, knows now the needs of our world, may she intercede for her dear little Canada, her land of crosses, where for all eternity she remains attached to manifest her inventive charity.

Simon Roy