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Loe raamatut: «Pope Pius the Tenth», lehekülg 5

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The pope, who in his youth had entered keenly into all the games and sports of the seminary life, was a strong believer in schemes for the physical development of youth. "I bless with all my heart your games and amusements," he said on the occasion of a display in the Vatican gardens by athletic clubs. "I approve of your gymnastics, your cycle, boat, and foot races, your mountain climbing and the rest, for these pastimes will keep you from the idleness which is the mother of every vice; and because friendly contests will be for you the symbol of emulation in the practice of virtue.. Be strong to keep and defend your faith when so many are losing it; be strong to remain devoted sons of the Church when so many are rebelling against her.. be strong to conquer the obstacles which you will meet in the practice of the Catholic religion, for your own merit and for the good of your brothers."

To the pilgrimages that flocked from all parts of the world to do him homage, Pius X addressed like words of sympathy and encouragement. "I bless you all, great and small, rich and poor," he said to a band of peasants from Moravia – "the good that they may remain good; those who have strayed from the right path, that they may come back to it; parents that they may bring up their children well; children that they may honour the white hairs of their parents and the country that has nourished them."

"Tell the rich to be generous in almsgiving," he said on another occasion; "tell the poor to be proud of being chosen as the living representatives of Christ on earth. Bid them neither envy nor hate others, but have resignation and patience."

It was to those of his own province that a special tenderness was revealed. "If I could tell you all that is in my heart," he said one day to a pilgrimage from Treviso, "when night comes on I should be still speaking." It was hard for him to believe that he would never see his beloved Venice again. Walking one day in the Vatican gardens with a friend, he heard in the distance a shrill whistle. "Hark!" he said, wistfully, "perhaps that is the train for Venice!" But much as he loved his own people there was no thought either in his mind or in theirs that honours might come to them through his position. "Thank God, we are all able to support ourselves," said one of his sisters soon after his election, "we need trouble him for nothing. Poor dear," she added compassionately, "he has all the poor people in the world to think of now." They had their own places in the pope's private chapel, and on gala days at St. Peter's. That was their only privilege, and it was all that they asked.

It was said of the new pope that his usual expression was one of overwhelming sadness, and to those who only saw him in public this might have seemed to be true. His humble spirit hated pomp and display, and the burden of his huge responsibility lay heavy on his soul. When borne through the crowd in the sedia gestatoria he seemed more than ever conscious of the weight of the cross laid upon him by his divine Master. "His face amid the scene of triumph spoke of the vanity of all earthly glory. He had ever the look of one who is weighed down by the sins and the sorrows of mankind – a look befitting the vicar of Him of whom we speak as the Man of Sorrows," wrote Wilfrid Ward. In St. Peter's he would allow no outbreak of the applause which had become customary at papal services. "It is not fitting that the servant should be applauded in his Master's house," he said sternly as he gave the order. So it was in silence that he passed thenceforward amongst his people – but a silence tense and trembling with an emotion that would occasionally break out in spite of all attempts at restraint.

But those who knew him intimately had another tale to tell. The genial and merry spirit that had been his of old, though overshadowed at first by the burden he had to bear, was by no means dead. He had the art of making himself all things to all men; he could be gay and merry with the young, wonderfully tender and gentle with those in sorrow or suffering. "He had the greatest heart," said one who knew him well, "of any man alive."

VII
PIUS X AND FRANCE

The separation of church and state had long been the deliberate aim of the irreligious French government. During the pontificate of Leo XIII the following resolution had been put and carried at an assembly of freemasons: "It is the strict duty of a freemason, if he is a member of parliament, to vote for the suppression of the Budget des Cultes, for the suppression of the French embassy at the Vatican, and on all occasions to declare himself in favour of the separation of church and state without abandoning the right of the state to police the church."

The Waldeck-Rousseau ministry had already brought France to the verge of a breach with Rome. By means of a concession on the part of the pope the difficulty had been bridged over, but all the efforts of M. Combes were directed towards making the separation inevitable. There was one difficulty in the way – how to make it appear that Rome was to blame. "To denounce the concordat just now," he said in a speech delivered in the Senate in March, 1903, "without having sufficiently prepared men's minds for it, without having clearly proved that the Catholic clergy themselves are provoking it and rendering it inevitable, would be bad policy on the part of the government, by reason of the resentment which might be caused in the country. I do not say that the connection between church and state will not some day be severed; I do not even say that that day is not near. I merely say that the day has not yet come."

The way was paved by a series of provocations designed to cast the responsibility and odium on the pope. Pretexts for a quarrel were soon found in the circumstances of the visit of M. Loubet to Rome; in the discussions which arose with regard to the nomination of bishops, and in Rome's treatment of the bishops of Dijon and Laval. The Vatican White Book sufficiently indicated the long-suffering patience of the pope with regard to these questions.

There were Catholic critics who thought that Pius X was slow in vindicating the rights of the Church. "God," said he, speaking to a Frenchman on this subject, "could have sent us the Redeemer immediately after the Fall. And He made the world wait thousands of years!.. Yet they expect a poor priest, the vicar of that Christ so long desired, to pronounce without reflection grave and irrevocable words. For the moment I am passive – passive in the hands of Him who sustains me, and in whose name – when the time comes – I shall speak."

On the 10th of February, 1905, the Chambre declared that the "attitude of the Vatican" had rendered the separation of church and state inevitable. "An historic lie," as M. Ribot, a Protestant member of the Chambre, trenchantly described the statement.

The Law of Separation of the Churches and the State, passed by the French government in 1905, completely dissociated the state from the appointment of bishops and parish priests, but, lest this might seem to be an unalloyed blessing, it must be added that it also suppressed the annual revenue of the Church, amounting to 42 million francs. The departments and communes were forbidden to vote appropriations for public worship. Life pensions equivalent to three quarters of the former salary were granted to priests who were not less than sixty years of age at the passing of the law, and life pensions equivalent to half of the former salary to those under forty-five. As a matter of fact, the state became the richer by eight million francs. The use of Catholic buildings was to be regulated by the Associations Cultuelles. Without any reference to the Holy See it was decided by the government that these associations for religious worship should be formed in each diocese and parish to administer church property. Several articles in the law regarding the constitution of these Associations Cultuelles left to the Council of State – a purely lay authority – the settlement of any dispute that might arise. In other words it lay with the Council of State to pronounce on the orthodoxy of any association and its conformity with the rules of public worship.

There was a good deal of discussion in ecclesiastical circles as to whether the "Associations" could be formed. Pius in his encyclical "Gravissimo," August 1906, decided the question. He had examined the law, he declared, to see if it were at all possible to carry on under its provisions the work of religion in France while safeguarding the sacred principles on which the Church was constituted. After consultation with the episcopate he had sorrowfully to declare that no such arrangement was possible. The question at issue was whether the associations for worship could be tolerated. His answer was that "with reference to these associations as the law establishes them, we decree that it is absolutely impossible for them to be formed without a violation of the sacred rights pertaining to the very life of the Church." As to any other "legal and canonical" associations which might preserve the Catholics of France from the difficulties by which they were threatened, there was no hope of them while the law remained as it was. "We declare that it is not permissible to try any other kind of association as long as it is not established in a sure and legal manner that the divine constitution of the Church, the immutable rights of the Roman Pontiff and of the bishops, as well as their authority over the necessary property of the Church, and particularly over sacred edifices, shall be irrevocably placed in the said associations in full security."

"God's law alone is of importance," said Pius at a private interview. "We are no diplomatist, but our mission is to defend it. One truth is at stake: was the Church founded by our Lord Jesus Christ or not? Since it was, nothing can induce us to give up its constitutions, its rights or its liberty." "Let it be clearly understood," said he on another occasion, "we do not ask the members of your government to go to Mass – although we regret that they do not. All we ask, since they pride themselves on recognizing nothing but facts, is that they should not ignore one very considerable fact – the existence of the Catholic Church, its constitution, and its head, which we at present happen to be."

There were not wanting critics who spoke regretfully of the wholesale sacrifice of church property. "They speak too much of the goods of the Church and too little of her good," said the pope. "Tell them that history repeats itself. Ages ago on a high mountain two powers stood face to face. 'All this will I give thee,' said the one, offering the kingdoms of the earth and their riches, 'if thou wilt fall down and worship me.' The other refused – and is refusing still.."

The reply of the French government was the appropriation of all that was left of the property of the Church in France. The law of January 1907 permitted religious worship in the churches purely on sufferance and without any legal title. This looked like a concession, but it had its uses. The simple citizen still saw the priest in the church; Mass was still said there. "All of which proves," said the government to the unthinking public, "that the Church is in nowise persecuted; if she is not as prosperous as of old, she has only the pope to blame."

The separation of church and state was the signal for open war on the Church. Law after law was passed, making it more and more difficult for the priest to minister to the people. He was forbidden to enter a hospital unless his presence had been formally asked for by a patient. He was forced to serve his time in the army in the hope that his vocation might be ruined. He was forced to pay a rent for his presbytery, although he was often poorer than the poorest of his parishioners. Many of the beautiful old churches of France fell gradually into ruin, or were used for other purposes than worship – the more degrading the purpose the better.

The principle which underlay the attitude of Rome in the matter was clear and consistent. The state having proclaimed its indifference, not to say hostility, to religion, having ignored the constitution of the Church and suppressed all means of negotiating with the pope, claimed the right to legislate for Catholics, to control their organization, to limit their material resources, and to decide their differences. The men who made the law had openly declared that their purpose was to decatholicize France. "In making his decision, has not the pope appealed from the French parliament to the French people?" was a thoughtful question asked at the time.

"The apparent apathy of most French Catholics, the energy and cunning of their adversaries," said the same writer, "deceived the world into believing that a little faction had the strength of a whole people behind it.."

The pope's refusal to accept the bishops proposed by the French government had left many sees vacant. In February 1906, immediately after the break with the government, Pius X himself consecrated fourteen French bishops in St. Peter's. It was the act of a great and apostolic statesman. "I have not called you to joy," said the pope, "but to the Cross," and bearing the cross on their breasts they went forth, without stipend, without government protection, intervention or recognition. They went as simply apostolic men – to gain souls to God – and the result of their labours is manifest.

"Destroy the Church in France, and dechristianization will follow," cried her enemies. "A short period of separation," said an orator at the general assembly of the Grand Orient in September 1904, "will complete the ruin of dogma, and the ruin of Church." What really happened?

"Our bishops, priests, and people," wrote George Fonsegrive in 1913, "are absolutely devoted to Rome and obedient to the pope. After the passing of the Separation Law all the orders of the pope were immediately executed. At one word from him our bishops and priests gave up their palaces and their presbyteries and abandoned all their goods. Nowhere else has there been such docility and such unanimity. Our Church is truly and absolutely Roman; therefore every attack on its members attaches them more strongly to the source and centre of their life. Religious life is everywhere increasing in depth and in intensity.. The human mind has found the limits of science, and has felt that they are narrow and hard; all men of culture recognize to-day that our whole life is, as it were, wrapped in mystery. Faith is no longer looked upon as a suspect but as a friend. Those who have it not are seeking it, and those who have found it treasure it. Even those who despair of finding it respect it. And all, or nearly all, recognize that truth can only be where she declares herself, where she is supplied with all she needs to make her accessible to man, that is to say, in Catholicism, and finally in Rome."

VIII
THE POPE OF THE EUCHARIST

At the beginning of the nineteenth century the last remnants of Jansenism were still influencing Catholic teaching in many countries of Europe. This most insidious of heresies, preached by men of austere life and veiled by the plea of reverence for holy things, was a danger to the lax and to the scrupulous alike. It laid down as conditions for approaching the sacraments dispositions of soul which for the greater part of mankind were wholly unattainable; it presented God as the Jehovah of the Old Testament, terrible and awe-inspiring, rather than as the Christ of the New, tender and compassionate to sinners. "I tell you," said St. Vincent de Paul to one of his priests, "that this new error of Jansenism is one of the most dangerous that has ever troubled the Church."

Perhaps the most fatal effect of Jansenist teaching was that it drove the sinner from the sources of grace and the weak from the sources of spiritual strength. Frequent communion, which had been the custom in apostolic times and which had been always upheld in the teaching of the Church, was to the Jansenist a tempting of Providence. In vain did Catholic teachers explain to the people that the Council of Trent "exhorts, asks and beseeches the faithful to believe and venerate these sacred mysteries.. with such constancy and firmness of faith.. that they may be able frequently to receive the supersubstantial bread." Nothing, it was answered, had been laid down as to the necessary dispositions for receiving communion; and how were they to know that they had them? Theologians were divided on the subject, some teaching that very perfect dispositions were required, whilst others maintained that a state of grace and a right intention were sufficient. Another controversy had arisen as to the meaning of the term "frequent communion," some holding that weekly communion came under this heading, others that it did not. Appeals were made from time to time to Rome to decide the question, that the minds of the faithful might be at rest.

In the first encyclical of Pius X where he sets forth as the purpose of his pontificate the restoring of all things in Christ, the frequent use of the sacraments is mentioned as one of the four great means to this end. We have already seen how, when visiting his diocese as bishop, he bade the people make no preparations for his coming save attending Mass and receiving holy communion, declaring that this would be the best welcome they could give him. On the 20th of December, 1906, the Decree concerning Frequent and Daily Communion put an end to all further controversy.

"The primary purpose of the holy Eucharist is not that the honour and reverence due to our Lord may be safeguarded," says the decree, "not that the sacrament may serve as a reward of virtue, but that the faithful, being united to God by holy communion, may thence derive strength to resist sinful desires, to cleanse themselves from daily faults, and to avoid those serious sins to which human frailty is liable." "Frequent and daily communion, as a thing most earnestly desired by Christ our Lord and by the Catholic Church," runs the first clause of the decree, "should be open to all the faithful of whatever rank and condition of life, so that no one who is in the state of grace, and who approaches the holy table with a right and devout intention, can be hindered therefrom."

Having defined a right intention as a purpose of pleasing God, of being more closely united with Him by charity, and of seeking this divine remedy for one's weaknesses and defects, the decree goes on to affirm that, although freedom from venial sin is to be desired, it is sufficient that the communicant be free from mortal sin, provided he has a firm purpose of avoiding sin for the future. Preparation and thanksgiving are to be according to the strength, circumstances and duties of the individual. All priests and confessors are to exhort the faithful frequently and zealously to "this devout and saving action."

There was no mistaking this. "The Divine Redeemer of mankind," wrote a priest of the London Oratory, "is to be just as accessible to the struggling beginner whose feet have been ensnared in the meshes of sin, and who is struggling bravely against temptation, as He is to the man or woman who has been purified by many years of painful effort, but who is ever liable to fall. He is needed by the austere religious living in solitude in her cell.. He is needed by the poor dweller in the crowded slums who has so much to contend against – squalor, misery, drink, vice in various forms, and the depressing influences of grinding poverty. Children have need of Him that they may be formed to habits of virtue; youths have need of Him that they may obtain mastery over their passions; maidens have need of Him that they may preserve their innocence untarnished; grown-up men and women have need of Him that they may advance in virtue and carry out faithfully the duties of their state of life; there are none who can afford to neglect the great source of spiritual strength, none who can do without Him."

Rome had spoken, but to many people the news seemed almost too good to be true, and to others so surprising and "new" as to be unwelcome. The old idea that frequent communion was only for holy people was hard to eradicate. Jansenist bugbears about the preparation required and the responsibility incurred frightened the timid. Much insistence was necessary before the objection "I am not good enough" was found to be worthless, but when it was finally done away with the fruits were at once apparent.

"What a wonderful change there would be," Monsignor de Ségur had written some forty years earlier, "if frequent communion could be established in our colleges and schools! Experience shows the influence of communion on a young man's daily life. There is no vice that the regular use of the sacraments will not uproot, no moral resurrection beyond its power to effect." That dream was now on its way to realization. "Confessions," said a Jesuit who was giving a retreat to the students of a large public school, "are child's play now to what they used to be. In the old days they took two or three days – now nearly all the boys are daily communicants, and the confessions of the whole college take little more time than an hour."

"Yes," said a young working-girl to a Sacred Heart nun, "I go every day. I cannot stay till the end of Mass, because I have to get to my work. But there are several of us who are all daily communicants, who take the same train to business, and we get into the same carriage and make our thanksgiving on the way. And we love to think that in that train, full of people who seldom think of God, there is one carriage where He is being adored and worshipped. And we find it such a help in the day's work."

And not girls only. The author will never forget a very early morning Mass in a big London church. The church was full of working men in their working clothes. The procession to the altar seemed never ending, communion was still being given after the Mass was finished. They had come for help and comfort in their daily toil to One who on this earth had been a working man like themselves, One who is "rich unto all that call on Him," and they had learnt the strength of that union.

Was it not the "man in the street" for whom our Saviour came? Were not the crowds who followed Him mostly composed of "men in the street"? And did He not choose from their ranks the Apostles who were to carry His message throughout the world? "In these days," says the decree, "when religion and the Catholic faith are attacked on all sides, and true love of God and genuine piety are lacking in so many places, it is doubly necessary that the faithful should be strengthened, and the love of God kindled in their hearts by this saving practice of daily communion."

"Holy communion is the shortest and surest way to Heaven," said Pius X to the Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament. "There are others, innocence, for instance, but that is for little children; penance, but we are afraid of it; generous endurance of the trials of life, but when they come we weep and ask to be spared. Once for all, beloved children, the surest, easiest, shortest way is by the Eucharist. It is so easy to approach the holy table, and there we taste the joys of Paradise."

A second decree was published in answer to questions regarding the frequent communion of children who had only recently made their first communion, and of the infirm who were suffering from some chronic illness. The answer given was that frequent or daily communion was for young children as well as for their elders, since it was highly desirable that their innocence and goodness should be shielded by so powerful a protection. As for the sick, every facility was to be granted them to receive communion as often as possible. This was followed four years later by a decree which fixed the age of first communion at about the seventh year, the time at which the child begins to use its reason. In some cases it might be earlier; in some it would have to be later; this would depend on the intelligence of the individual child. The pope went straight to the root of the matter.

"The pages of the Gospel witness to the very great affection shown by Christ to little children when He was on earth," he begins. "It was His delight to be in their company; He was wont to lay His hands upon them, to embrace them, to bless them. And He was indignant at their being turned away by His disciples, whom He rebuked in these grave words: 'Suffer the little children to come unto Me and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven'." After having pointed out that in the earliest days of the Church holy communion was given even to babies, and that if later for good cause the age of reason or of discretion was fixed as the time for first communion, this did not presuppose that a fuller knowledge was required for the reception of the holy Eucharist than for the sacrament of penance. The decree went on to deplore the postponement of first communion until twelve, thirteen or fourteen years of age, according to local customs. "Even if this ensures a fuller understanding of the sacred mysteries, a careful sacramental confession and a longer and more diligent preparation," it continues, "the gain in no wise balances the loss. The innocence of childhood, deprived of this most powerful protection, is soon lost; bad habits have time to grow and become strong. The little ones, being in the happy condition of their first candour and innocence, stand in great need of that mystical food, on account of the many snares and dangers of the present time." "As soon as children begin to have a certain use of reason, so as to be able to conceive devotion to this Sacrament," says St. Thomas Aquinas, "then may it be given to them."

In order that the above-mentioned abuses should be entirely removed and that "children from their tenderest years should cling to Jesus Christ, live His life, and find protection from the dangers of corruption", regulations concerning their first communion were laid down and ordered to be observed in every part of the world.

The decree caused a certain commotion in some Catholic countries. Once more the remnants of Jansenist teaching arose to frighten the faithful. Would a child of seven understand the reverence due to the Sacrament? was the question anxiously asked – children of that age are so thoughtless. The objection had already been answered by Monsignor de Ségur: "To communicate well, it suffices to receive the Saviour with a good will. This is found just as much in children as in adults. The child loves Jesus Christ; it wishes to have Him; why, then, not give Him to the child? Thoughtlessness is no obstacle to holy communion, unless it is wilful. Children are thoughtless – yes, but they are good and affectionate; and because of their need of love, we must give their love its true food."

Another objection, and one that seemed more plausible, was that sometimes a late first communion tended to preserve children from much that was evil; for this reason it was often delayed as long as possible, an apparent safeguard which the new decree threatened to do away with altogether. Experience has long since proved that here again the good obtained far outbalances the bad.

As for the argument that such little children cannot understand what they are doing, those who have the task of preparing them for their first communion have a different tale to tell. "I have found it much easier," writes one who has had much experience, "to prepare little children than those who are older – the preparation is so much more objective than subjective. It is more a realization of how lovable, how desirable, how loving our Lord is, than a preoccupation of how they can make themselves worthy – or less unworthy – to receive Him… The actual first communion appears to the little ones as the very loving embrace of a much-loved Father; to the older ones it is more a welcome to a loved and honoured guest, with – if I may so put it – the preoccupations of a hostess."

The pope delighted in the letters he received from many little first communicants thanking him for their joy at being admitted to the holy table; he loved children dearly and they returned his affection, crowding round him, speaking to him without the slightest fear or shyness, and giving him their confidence at once. He loved to give them communion with his own hands; there was an affinity between the white-souled pontiff and the white-souled children who knelt at his feet – the innocence that had fought and conquered and the innocence that was as yet untried. All the little first communicants of Rome, gentle or simple, were invited to the Vatican. He would give them a short instruction suited to their understanding, ending with the hope that their last communion would be as fervent and loving as the first. Then he would talk to them, and they to him, simply and without any ceremony. Unconventional sometimes were the appellations by which they called him. "Yes, Pope," would be the answer to a question. But the very little ones, seeing the gracious white figure bending over them and looking up into the gentle holy face of him that spoke, would sometimes answer softly, "Yes, Jesus."

An Englishwoman who had a private audience with the pope brought her little boy of four to receive his blessing. While she was talking the child stood at a little distance looking on; but presently he crept up to the pope, put his hands on his knees and looked up into his face. "How old is he?" asked Pius, stroking the little head.

"He is four," answered the mother, "and in two or three years I hope he will make his first communion."

The pope looked earnestly into the child's clear eyes. "Whom do you receive in holy communion?" he asked.

"Jesus Christ," was the prompt answer.