Holy Father Bruno

From the Museo della Certosa is the Italian publication titled, "I Colori del Silenzio". And in that publication is a loving tribute to Holy Father Bruno. It is shared here on this day where around the world the Carthusian Order celebrates the Solemnity of Saint Bruno.

* * * * * *

 

There are lives, my God, which may be approached only with respect, holy grounds where Your mystery shines. No one can contemplate them without being enlightened by You, no one can find them without being inflamed by Your Spirit.

 

On 6 October 1101, Sunday, at the Hermitage of Santa Maria della Torre in Calabria, Italy there were some monks, and in the midst of them a man laid down. Tears were in their eyes and choking cries in their voices. The guide of their souls, their father . . . had reached the time of his birth into eternity. This man is you, Bruno. In this instant, your whole life, more than seventy years, is in your heart, the final offering to the Father.

Behold your first years in Cologne, where you were born, your departure for Rheims in France, that great and celebrated school of theology, your scholarly enlightened intuitions, and your appointment as canon of that church. The face of Archbishop Gervais, his decision of promoting you, at the early age of twenty-eight, to master of the most celebrated school of this time; students from all over Europe flocked together to listen to you, as your fame continually increased; then came the archbishop’s death in July 1067.

 

Behold the newly elected Manasse, his greed, his rages, the first discords, the increasing disorder, the scandals, while the Church reforms herself thanks to the Holy Father, Gregory VII; your sufferings, and the firm decision to voice your displeasure of the papal Legate. In the final months of 1076 came the retaliations of Manasse, depriving you of all your charges and goods – leading to the way of exile, a long and painful fight which lasted four years. At last the decision of the Pope: to depose, to dismiss the bishop from his See, while all eyes looked upon you to be the successor. But . . . in the silence of your heart, suddenly, another Heart! Your exile was the first stage of a long interior pilgrimage.

Behold the call of Christ: to leave everything so as to follow Him, to resume the way of the first fathers of the desert; the astonishment of all, the admiration for you, the light of Rheims, who was already fifty-five years old; then Sèche-Fontaine, the first attempt at solitary life with two other monks, but soon they defected and you searched for a second hermitage.

Behold your new companions: Landuin, two men named Stephen, and Hugh; these four were clerics, and with them were Andrew and Guérin, the first lay brothers. Their faces are still now in your heart, your brothers so beloved. And all seven were united as the flames of the archangels before the Almighty. You asked Hugh, the holy Bishop of Grenoble, for a place to live, hidden in God. Hugh of Grenoble was a friend of your heart. He helped you immediately without reservation; he had a dream about seven stars that guided him into the desert of Chartreuse to glorify God.

 

On June 1084, nearing the feast of Saint John the Baptist, you arrived at the place foreseen in the dream, to begin a great adventure still unknown. Behold your monastery, lost in the mountains, the first years, the ascetic struggle, the peace of the Spirit. Such fire in your souls, such love in your hearts! You, Bruno, already possessed pure praise and cries of amazement: "O Bonitas! O Bonitas!" (O the Goodness! O the Goodness!).

Six years of toils, six years of joy; God, God, God always, only God, together with your brothers! Then, unexpectedly, the trial . . . In the first months of 1090 a courier of the Pope arrived with this message: Urban II, a former student of yours, calls you to his service at his side. The sun sets, it is night. Leaving everything, abandoning all, again, undoubtedly forever, your solitude in God, that blessed solitude, your companions of life, your friends. But in your heart, the "yes", which is your love for God and for the Church. But the tempest overwhelms your brothers, the bewilderment takes them, and they disperse. To be without you, the master, the star of the journey: How could they? This way is so difficult. Everything collapses. Everything! Your heart is on the cross. It is the hour of your passion. Has the beautiful adventure reached its end? "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by! Yet, not my will, but Yours be done." The sky opens, a new day is born. Your brothers again gather in the desert guided by Landuin. Your soul is suffering less, Bruno, at the hour of departure.

 

Behold Rome, the holy city, the heart of Christianity! But Rome is threatened. Shortly after your arrival, the Emperor Enrico IV and his protected, the antipope Clement III, launched their troops towards it. Urban II and his court fled to the south, near the land of the Norman allies. And still another trial: the Holy Father offers you the archbishopric of Reggio Calabria. What were you to do, Bruno? This is such a difficult time for the Church, as a brilliant future opens up for you – a counsellor for the Pope, a trustworthy man, admired by all. But in your soul still resounds the call, continuous, powerful, captivating, even stronger in the splendour of this court: Only God! Only God! To be His, completely His, only His, together with other brothers! Only God! Your heart, a cry of love for Him! Father, will You forget Your son? It is You Who has sown the cry in him . . . Bruno, the Lord responds, Urban II blesses your vocation: yes, you may resume your solitary life. "O Bonitas! O Bonitas! My life and my all, my beloved forever." (Autumn of 1090).

Your heart would like to return to Chartreuse, to find your brothers. But the Pope asks you to stay in these lands and you accept his words as those of Christ. But where to dwell? A friend of the Holy Father, and soon to be your friend, Count Ruggero, offers you a vast desert territory. Behold your hermitage, Santa Maria della Torre, in the woods of the Serre, and the arrival of new companions, and later others, and yet more, up to thirty-three new sons. Nearby the hermitage stands the monastery of Saint Stephen where the lay brothers lead more a life in community; Landuin guides them, your faithful friend.

 

Eleven more years, eleven years of hard work and asceticism, eleven years of light and joy in praise, here, in this rich land of monks and hermits, whose history is blessed with their presence. And so, that your joy may be complete, Bruno, one day found the happiness of a visit: Landuin, who brings with him the love of your first sons, and their fidelity. "O Bonitas! O Bonitas!" -- so as to accept this friend of yours in this land that fills your heart, with an embrace and a gaze.

 

The autumn of life nears the end and your eyes rise towards eternity. Two years have passed since Urban II left this world; a year later, on his return journey, Landuin dies professing the faith in the prisons of the antipope; three months before that, in June, Ruggero died. Bruno, heaven calls you. Now . . .

 

The breath becomes briefer, perspiration bathes you, with your last brothers, you proclaim your faith, a hymn to the Trinity. The instant is near, time opens. Bruno, look at this grand light, so immense: "My Lord and my God."

 

"It is Me My friend, come! Enter into My Heart. Come! Come."

 

"O Bonitas! O Bonitas!"

 

Bruno, stay with us!

 

"I will remain in your hearts."

 

Everything stood still. Silence freezes us in its density. Fire has consumed the last twigs, the flame has vanished. Bruno . . . your face is so beautiful, illuminated by peace; and your eyes, open towards heaven, are overflowing with an infinite tenderness. A hand closes them in the ultimate sleep. Your life is hidden in Him, for all eternity. Fullness of joy! Ocean of love!

 

But your light still shines in our hearts and in your two letters, for your friend Raoul and your brothers of Chartreuse, who will bear witness forever to your mystery. You are so present in them, your profound humanity, finesse, your sweetness and goodness, your harmony throughout, your wisdom, all tenderness and humility, spiritual joy, simplicity - Bruno, all-burning with your love of God, and the God-Love in you.

 

Yes, you are alive forever. And, like a planted seed, from you will rise a tree where different birds will make their nests. Are you not seeing it in the Eyes of God?

 

A life-flame of prayer still consumes itself roundabout you, Bruno; it burns in this place from where now you fly towards heaven, so as to make descend from there a great light of melody and love. Together with the first, behold all your sons and daughters, throughout the centuries, until this day and even further, all of us who, invisibly are around you on this 6 October, in this instant of your great birth, Bruno.

 

Aflame with Heavenly Love

A letter dated this day fourteen years ago was sent by Saint John Paul II to the Carthusian Order on the occasion of the ninth centenary of Saint Bruno’s death. Here are the thoughts expressed by the Holy Father for this celebration.

* * * * * *

To the Reverend Father Marcellinus Theeuwes,

Prior of La Grande Chartreuse, General of the Carthusian Order,

and to all the members of the Carthusian family,

At the time when the members of the Carthusian family celebrate the ninth centenary of their Founder's death, I with them give thanks to God who raised up in His Church the eminent and ever topical figure of Saint Bruno. Praying fervently I appreciate your witness of faithfulness to the See of Peter and am happy to join in with the joy of the Carthusian Order which has in this good and incomparable father a master of the spiritual life. On 6 October 1101, Bruno, aflame with divine love left the elusive shadows of this world to join the everlasting goods for ever. The brothers of the hermitage of Santa Maria della Torre in Calabria little knew that this dies natalis inaugurated a singular spiritual venture which even today brings forth abundant fruits for the Church and the world.

Bruno witnessed the cultural and religious upheavals of his time, in a Europe that was taking shape. He was an actor in the reform which the Church faced with internal difficulties wished to fulfill. After having been an appreciated teacher he felt called to consecrate himself to that unique Good which God is. What is there as good as God? Better still, is there another Good than God alone? Really, a holy soul who has any sense of this Good, of its incomparable splendor and beauty, finds himself aflame with heavenly love and exclaims: "I am thirsting for the strong and living God; when shall I go and see the Face of God?" The uncompromising nature of that thirst drove Bruno, a patient listener to the Spirit, to invent with his first companions a style of eremitical life where everything favors one's response to the call from Christ - Who indeed ever chooses men to lead them into solitude and join themselves to Him in intimate love. By this choice of life in the desert, Bruno invites the entire Church community never to lose sight of the highest vocation which is to remain forever with the Lord.

Bruno, when able to forget his own plans to answer the call from the Pope, shows his strong sense of the Church. He is conscious that to follow the path of holiness is unthinkable outside of obedience to the Church: and shows us in that way, that real following of Christ demands putting oneself into His Hands. In abandonment of self he shows us the supreme love. And this attitude of his kept him in a permanent state of joy and praise. His brothers noticed that his face was always radiating joy, his words modest. To a father's vigor he joined the sensitivity of a mother. These exquisite remarks from the obituary scroll show the fruitfulness of a life given to contemplate the Face of Christ as the source of all apostolic fecundity and brotherly love. Would that Saint Bruno's sons and daughters, as did their father, may always keep on contemplating Christ, that they keep watch in this way for the return of their Master ever ready to open when He knocks; this will he a stimulant call for all Christians to stay vigilant in prayer in order to welcome their Lord!

Following upon the great Jubilee of the Incarnation, the celebration of the ninth centenary of Saint Bruno's death acquires by this fact a supplementary emphasis. In the Apostolic Letter Novo millennio ineunte I invite the entire people of God again to take in Christ their point of departure, in order to permit those who thirst for meaningfulness and Truth to hear God's own Heartbeat and that of the Church. Christ's words: "And lo, I am with you always until the end of the world" (Matthew 28:20) call all those who bear the name of disciples to draw from this certitude renewed energies for their Christian existence and inspiring strength for their path. The call to prayer and contemplation, which is the hallmark of Carthusian life, shows particularly that only Christ can bring to the hopes of men a fullness of meaning and joy.

How could one doubt for a second that such expression of pure love gives Carthusian life an extraordinary fecundity, as it were, for the missions? In the retreat of their monasteries, in the solitude of their cells, the Carthusians spin Holy Church's wedding garment ("beautiful as a bride decked out for her bridegroom," 1 Revelation 21:3); every day they offer the world to God and invite all mankind to the wedding of the Lamb. The celebration of the Eucharistic Sacrifice is the source and the summit of life in the desert, modeling into the very being of Christ those who give themselves up to His love. Thus the presence and the activity of Christ in this world become visible, for the salvation of all men and the joy of the Church.

At the heart of the desert, where men are tried and their faith purified, the Father leads them on a path of dispossession which questions all logic of having, being successful and finding fleeting happiness. Guigo the Carthusian would always encourage those desiring to follow Saint Bruno’s ideal to follow the example of the poor man Christ, in order to share in His riches. This dispossession passes through a thorough break with the world, which does not mean contempt for the world but a fresh orientation of one's whole life in a tireless search for the unique Good: "You have seduced me, Lord, and I have let myself be seduced" (Jeremiah 20:7). The Church is fortunate to have at its disposition the Carthusian witness of total alertness to the Spirit and a life entirely surrendered to Christ!

So I invite the members of the Carthusian family to remain, by holiness and simplicity of life, like the city on the mountain or the lamp on the lamp stand (cf. Matthew 5:14-15). Rooted in the Word of God, quenching their thirst with the sacraments of Holy Church, upheld by the prayers of Saint Bruno and their brothers, let them remain for the entire Church and at the heart of the world a sort of place for hope and discovery of the Beatitudes, where Love leaning on prayer - source of communion - is called to become logic of life, and source of joy! The cloistered life as an outward expression of the offering up of one's whole life in union with Christ’s, shows the fleetingness of our existence and teaches us to count only on God. It increases the thirst for graces given in meditation of the Word of God. It also is the place for spiritual communion with God and our brothers and sisters, where the restricted character both of space and of contacts favors an interiorization of Gospel values. The quest for God in contemplation is indeed undissociable from love of our brothers, love that makes us recognize the Face of Christ in the poorest of men. Contemplation of Christ lived in brotherly love remains the safest path of all for a fruitful life. Saint John unceasingly reminds us of it: "Beloved, let us love each other, because love is of God, and whoever loves is born of God and knows God" (1 John 4:7). Saint Bruno understood that well, he who never separated the primacy he gave to God in all his life from the deep humanity he showed his brethren.

The ninth centenary of Saint Bruno's dies natalis gives me the occasion to renew my trust in the Carthusian Order in its mission of selfless contemplation and intercession for the Church and the world. Following Saint Bruno and his successors, the Carthusian monasteries never stop awakening the Church to the eschatological dimension of its mission, calling to mind God's marvelous deeds and being watchful in the expectation of the ultimate accomplishment of the virtue of Hope. Watching tirelessly for the Kingdom to come, seeking to Be rather than to Do, the Carthusian Order gives the Church vigor and courage in its mission to put out in deep waters and permit the Good News of Christ to enkindle all of mankind.

In these days of Carthusian celebration I ardently pray the Lord to make resound in the heart of many young the call to leave everything to follow the poor man Christ, on the demanding but liberating path of the Carthusian vocation. I also invite those in charge of the Carthusian family to respond without timidity to the requests from the young Churches to found monasteries on their territories.

In this spirit the discernment and formation of the candidates presenting themselves necessitates renewed attention from the novice masters. Indeed today's culture marked by strong hedonistic currents, by the wish for possessions and a certain wrong conception of freedom, does not make it easy for the young to express their generosity when they want to consecrate their lives to Christ, to follow Him on the path of self-offering love, of concrete and generous service. The complexity of each one's itinerary, their psychological fragility, the difficulties to live faithfully over the years, all this suggests that nothing must be neglected to give those who ask for admission to the Carthusian "desert" a formation spanning all the dimensions of the human person. What is more, particular attention must be given to the choice of educators able to accompany candidates on the paths of interior liberation and docility to the Holy Spirit. Finally, aware that life together as brothers is a fundamental element of the itinerary of consecrated persons, communities must be invited to live unreservedly their mutual love, and develop a spiritual climate and lifestyle in conformity with your Order's charisma.

Dear sons and daughters of Saint Bruno, as I reminded you at the end of my post-synodal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata you should not only reminisce and tell a glorious past history, but make a grand history! Look towards the future, where the Spirit is sending you to do with you still great things. At the heart of the world you make the Church attentive to the voice of the Bridegroom whispering in her heart: "Courage! I have defeated the world" (John 16:33). I encourage you never to give up the intuitions of your Founder, even if the impoverishment of your communities, the drop in vocations and the incomprehension, which your chosen radical lifestyle provokes, might make you doubt the fecundity of your Order and your mission whose fruits in a hidden way belong to God!

It is up to you, dear sons and daughters of the Charterhouse, heirs to Saint Bruno's charisma, to maintain in all its authenticity and depth the specific spiritual path, which he traced for you by his words and example. Your pithy knowledge of God, matured in prayer and meditation of His word, calls the people of God to look further, to the very horizons of a renewed humankind inquest of fullness of meaning and unity. Your poverty, offered for the glory of God and the salvation of the world, is an eloquent contestation of the logic of profit and efficiency, which often closes the hearts of men and nations to the real need of their brothers. Your hidden life with Christ, as the Cross silently planted in the heart of redeemed mankind, remains in fact for the Church and for the world the eloquent sign and the permanent reminder that anybody, yesterday as today, can let himself be taken by Him Who is only Love.

Entrusting all the members of the Carthusian family to the intercession of the Virgin Mary, Mater singularis Cartusiensium, star of the evangelization of the third millennium, I give them all an affectionate apostolic blessing, which I extend to all the benefactors of the Order.

Ioannes Paulus II, 14 Maius Anno Domini 2001

Our Lady's Doctor Ecstaticus

One of the most prolific writers of the Carthusian Order was Denys van Leeuwen, but perhaps better known simply as Denys the Carthusian or his Latinized name, Dionysius. Denys was Belgian and a model Carthusian to say the least. After being educated in theology, philosophy and Sacred Scripture from the University of Köln, he entered the Carthusian way of life in 1423. The many hours involved daily in praying the Divine Office, celebrating Mass, praying Our Lady’s Office, as well as other devotional practices - all staples of the Carthusian charism – Denys also nearly on a daily basis spent many hours reciting the Psalter in its entirety. In addition to this, he was no stranger to spiritual reading. A couple of years before his death the list of what he read began to surface. He read nearly every ecclesiastical writer leading up to his time in life. Another monk revealed that Denys also read nearly every summa and most commentaries on Scripture; he was also fond of reading the works of Greek and Arabic philosophers. His favorite writer was Dionysius the Areopagite. As incredible as all this seems, perhaps more mysterious and even miraculous is how he found the time to write so much himself. Like all Carthusians, he was very fond of our Lady. Here are some of his thoughts concerning our Blessed Mother:

From his work, De Prœconio, one should be convinced that as long as Mary is present in the life of a sinful soul, that soul need not despair:

"You are the consolation and the hope of the most guilty of men. He who has recourse to you can never complain of your severity and harshness. To your sons, even to the most ungrateful, you are kindness and tenderness itself; for all, you have the heart of a compassionate and indulgent Mother. Despite your high estate and the exalted privileges which you enjoy in heaven, if the most wretched, the most impure, the most despised of sinners appeals to you for help with a truly contrite and humbled heart, far from disdaining him you welcome him with a Mother’s love. You take him into your arms and, holding him close to your heart, you communicate to him a new warmth and then make his peace with the Judge he fears. How many are the afflicted, the sinners, the utterly abandoned, who rejoice that they have found in you, O Mary most merciful, salvation and life!"

In Volume VII of his Opera Omnia, Denys explains why we pray, "Blessed are you among women," for Mary is indeed "full of grace":

"Many women have gathered together great spiritual treasures, but you, O Virgin most admirable, have surpassed them all. For if, according to Saint Jerome, no one is good when compared to God, in like manner no virgin is perfect in comparison with you."

Also from his Opera Omnia in Volume XXXII, Denys tells the story of a Cistercian’s encounter with our Blessed Mother:

"A Cistercian religious had such a great devotion to our Blessed Lady that he would never sit down to table until he had recited on his knees five decades of the Rosary. Now one day, when his relatives had come to see him, and he was about to share their meal in the company of a few friends, he suddenly remembered that he had not fulfilled his customary tribute to his heavenly Mother. Immediately he arose and withdrew from the company. And as he prayed, whom did he see but our Lady herself, clothed with a magnificent cloak studded with Ave Marias, in letters of gold. He was filled with confusion when, with a sweet smile, the lovely apparition said to him: 'See all the Aves you have said to me.' Then, with a gesture she threw open her cloak and, showing him the inside, added: 'When your Aves have covered this side also, I shall come for you, and take you to my Son’s Kingdom.'"

What a marvellous assurance that as we pray the Rosary, our Lady is indeed listening! With all of Denys literary achievements, none of it took precedence over his commitment to prayer. Perhaps there’s a lesson there, in that, if we are committed to prayer, all those other things in our life that we deem as necessary, our Lord, if He also deems it necessary, will see to it that it is accomplished. Finally, it should be noted that Denys the Carthusian was quite privileged in receiving ecstasies, many of which involved levitation. Because of this, he has been given the title of Doctor Ecstaticus.

A Lenten Spirituality

Today we recall that it was ten years ago when the world had to let go of a great Holy Father, John Paul II. In May of 2001 he had written a Message to the Minims Tertiary. Here are some of his words: 

“Today the penitential proposal of your Rule is very fitting: founded on a ‘Lenten’ spirituality, it is the real novelty of the charism of the family of the Minims in which you share. The invitation to do penance, made by Jesus at the beginning of His preaching (cf. Mark 1:15), puts baptized persons into the condition of being in the world without being of the world. Thus your Rule calls you, with the words of the Apostle John, to affective detachment from the world: ‘Do not love the world or the things in the world’ (1 John 2:15); and with Saint James it reminds you that: ‘Whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God’ (4:4). The explicit exhortation to flee usury, unlawful contracts and every form of avarice stresses how the founder then clearly perceived the changes taking place in society; changes that were to create, by ignoring the evangelical dimension, the social and economic imbalances that we still deplore today. How useful the wise suggestions of the penitent hermit Francis of Paola appear even today: ‘the glory of this world is false and its riches are fleeting. Happy is he who thinks of a good rather than a long life; happy is he who worries more about a pure conscience than a full coffer.’ The need for spiritual action is born. It is achieved in prayer, in contemplation of the Face of Christ and in interior discipline. Your founder led you on the path of inner discipline, demanding of you this spiritual commitment as a necessary condition for belonging to his Order: ‘Whoever wishes to serve God in this kind of life must dominate his flesh.’ He then recalled, in support of the Rule's prescriptions, the words of the Apostle Paul: ‘Put to death ... what is earthly in you’ (Colossians 3:5), because ‘if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body you will live’ (Romans 8:13). The commitment required by your Rule does not enclose you in a totally interior spirituality but, appealing to your special penitential mission, urges you to share what is yours with your needier brothers. The Church's call to love God and neighbor must impel every baptized person. Saint Francis of Paola, follower and imitator of the ancient Fathers, in the Rule that he left you, very wisely combined under one heading, fasting, abstinence and works of mercy, thereby giving you, in the unity of the charism you share with the friars and nuns, the preference for the commitment to an active charity. Then in your code of life there is the exhortation to care for the purity of conscience with the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The words used in this regard retain all their charm, although they are associated with a spirituality that is far from our way of feeling: ‘Jesus the Nazarene’ - he writes – ‘full of flowers, Whose joy it is to stay with the children of man, delights in the flowers of the virtues.’ Lastly you have the invitation to participate in the Eucharist in which you find the source of your fidelity. The founder's words deserve to be remembered for their power of expression: ‘May daily attendance at Mass be for you a wholesome piece of advice, so that fortified with the arms of the Passion of Christ, which are recalled in the Mass, you may be strong and faithful in your observance of the commandments of God. In attending Mass you will also pray that Christ's death may be your life, His pain the mitigation of your pain, His toil your eternal rest.’ By lengthy meditation on your Rule, you will find a new incentive to give even more value to the Sacrament of Reconciliation and to Sunday Mass. May you be accompanied by the Holy Virgin, Mother of the Church and pillar of our hope. For my part, I assure you that I will keep you in my prayers and, while I invoke on your intentions and on your commitment the protection of the founder Saint Francis of Paola and of the holy Patrons, Saint Francis de Sales and Saint Joan of Valois, also Minims Tertiary, I sincerely bless you.”

O Virgin, Receive Our Last Breath

This reflection was written by the Carthusian, Dom Louis Rouvier. It really allows us to take a peak into some Carthusian gems concerning our Blessed Lady. There is some namedropping in this writing which gives us a rare opportunity to read about some Carthusians who have had personal experiences with our Blessed Mother. Unless we were in the Order, these are monks that otherwise we probably would never hear of. Most likely, Dom Louis Rouvier’s intention was that this was to be shared only with his own and other Carthusian Houses. But his thoughts here have found their way outside of monastery walls. There is one name, however, that is mentioned who has some accolades outside of the Order, and that is Dom Henry Kalkar. He was also a writer in the Carthusian Order and was the Prior of several Charterhouses in Germany. He died at 80 years of age in the year 1408 where he was serving as Prior of Cologne. Dom Louis Rouvier, in this writing, also shares some Carthusian prayer customs. The main theme of this reflection is death, and how a strong devotion to our Lady doesn’t come to full fruition until that most mysterious moment of transition from this life into eternity.

* * * * * * 

“In me is all grace of the way, and of the truth; in me is hope of all life and virtue” (Ecclesiasticus 24:25). These words the Church puts on the lips of our Lady in her Office that we say every day. It is at death and only at death that devotion to Mary receives its final fruit. Thus it is particularly with this moment in view that we address to the Queen of Heaven our most ardent entreaties. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us . . . now . . . and at the hour of our death.

In our Carthusian liturgy, five times a day, in the hymn of her Office, the . . . religious repeat to the most powerful Protectress of the dying, the words:

Per tuum, Virgo Filium,
Per Partem, per Paracletum,
Adsis prœsens ab obitum,
Nostrum muni exitum.

O Virgin, by your Son,
By the Father, and the Holy Spirit
Receive our last breath
And protect us at our departure from this world.

What has been her response to a plea made to her name of all that is dearest to her heart?

In this prayer, so frequently renewed, is largely the secret of the interior peace which most always surrounds the death of a Carthusian. Often enough in the course of the ages, God has revealed by exterior signs the efficacy of this assiduous recourse to her who is called Consoler of the Afflicted (Litany of Our Lady).

First, there is the incident recorded in our annals of the professed monk of the Charterhouse of Vallis Christi in Spain, Dom Giles de Bidon, who had the happiness of leading two Moslems to the Christian faith. As he lay dying, a third follower of the Prophet, whom he had tried in vain to convert, entered his cell. The good monk earnestly recommended him to our Blessed Lady, who at that moment had appeared to him to announce his approaching death. Suddenly, touched by grace, the follower of the Prophet asked for baptism, and Dom Giles breathed his last breath in a rapture of gratitude for the supreme consolation granted him (Le Vasseur: Ephemerides, Volume II).

Dom James Saline of the Charterhouse of Porta Cœli, near Valencia, loved to address his Mother often with this greeting: Salve, Sancta Parens (Introit of the Mass of Our Lady). Now, three days before he died, it being a Wednesday, when the community had gathered around him to assist him with their prayer, he said: “Do not be anxious, dear Fathers, I shall not die until next Saturday when you are singing the Salve, Sancta Parens.” And so it came about. At the Introit of the conventual Mass, it being the Mass of Our Lady, as the first words of the Introit were being sung, the soul of the Father took flight (Le Vasseur: Ephemerides, Volume III).

Dom Cyril Abendaño, a monk of Vallis Christi, after receiving the Last Sacraments, was transported in spirit, as he himself related after coming out of his rapture, to the Spring called Ribas, which gushes forth at the foot of a mountain, at the summit of which is found a grotto where there is a statue of the Madonna. “Our Lady of the Grotto,” he said, “purify me in the fountain.” At that, he came to himself, filled, as he said, with heavenly consolations. And as he lay dying, he had the strength to sing the Salve Regina, and the prayer Sub tuum præsidium (We fly to thy protection, O holy Mother of God). His last prayer was: “O Maria, absque peccati originalis labe concepta . . . O Mary, conceived without sin.”

O most beloved Mother of the Carthusians, continue to grant to the sons of Saint Bruno your assistance at the hour when their eternity is at stake. Extend to all the Houses of the Order the favor which you declared to a novice of the Charterhouse of Montrieux. “I promise,” you told him, “the religious of this House that they will all enjoy in their last moments the perfect purity of conscience, and that they will fall asleep with tranquility and in peace” (Molin: Historia Cartusiana, Volume I). For all our brethren still suffering in exile, we address to you, O heavenly Mother, this prayer which you yourself taught to one of your most devout servants, Dom Henry Kalkar: “O Queen of virgins, surpassing Tabernacle of the august Trinity, Mirror of the angels, Ladder of saints, and sure Refuge of sinners – behold our distress, O loving Mother, and pray for us now and in the hour of our death. Amen” (Le Vasseur: Ephemerides, Volume IV).

Powerful Pleaders to God

On this day in which the Carthusian Order celebrates the Solemnity of Saint Bruno, at Matins the monks will hear and reflect on the Apostolic Constitution, Umbratilem, by Pope Pius XI.

* * * * * *

All those, who, according to their rule, lead a life of solitude remote from the din and follies of the world, have chosen the better part, like Mary of Bethany. They contemplate the divine mysteries and the eternal truths, and pour forth ardent and continual prayers to God that His Kingdom may flourish and be daily spread more widely. They also atone for the sins of other men still more than for their own by mortification, prescribed or voluntary. For no more perfect state and rule of life than that can be proposed for men to take up and embrace, if the Lord calls them to it. Moreover, by the inward holiness of those who lead the solitary life in the silence of the cloister and by their most intimate union with God, is kept brightly shining the halo of that holiness which the spotless Bride of Jesus Christ holds up to the admiration and imitation of all. No wonder, then, that ecclesiastical writers of former ages, wishing to explain and extol the power and efficacy of the prayers of these same religious men, liken their prayers to Moses.

While Joshua was engaged in battle with the Amalekites on the plain and Moses on the top of a hill nearby was praying and beseeching God for the victory of his people, it happened that as long as Moses held his hands raised heavenward, the Israelites conquered, but if from weariness he lowered them a little, then the Amalekites overcame the Israelites; wherefore, Aaron and Hur on either side held up his arms until Joshua left the field victorious. This example most aptly symbolizes the effect of the prayers of the religious we have spoken of, since those prayers are borne up by the august Sacrifice of the Altar on one hand, and on the other hand by works of penance, as by two props typified respectively in a certain way, by Aaron and Hur; it being the usual and indeed the principal duty of these solitaries, as we have remarked above, to offer themselves up to God and devote themselves as propitiatory victims and hostages for peace for their own weal and that of the world - a function which they fulfill in an official way, as it were.

From the earliest times this mode of life, most perfect and at the same time most useful and fruitful for the whole of Christendom more than anyone can conceive, took root. For if we pass over the "Ascetics" who right from the very outset of our religion used to live so austerely, though in their own houses, that Cyprian considered them as "the noblest part of Christ's flock," it is known that many of the faithful in Egypt, persecuted under the Emperor Decius on account of their religion, had fled into the desert parts of the land and had found by experience that the solitary sort of life they led there was most profitable for attaining perfection, they continued that way of living even after peace had been granted to the Church. The number of these anchorites was so immense that there were said to be as many inhabitants in the wilderness as there were citizens in the towns. Some of them went to live far away from all human society, while others, under the leadership of Anthony, began to live in lauras. That was the origin of the common life - life in community - which, gradually evolved, organized and ruled by certain definite laws, was quickly propagated throughout all the countries of the East and then spread over Italy, Gaul, and Proconsular Africa, while monasteries rose up on all sides.

The monks, each one in the privacy of his cell, unoccupied with any exterior ministry and having nothing to do with it, should fix their thoughts exclusively on things of heaven, wonderful was the benefit that accrued from it to Christian Society. Nevertheless, in the course of time the institution so pre-eminent, that is called the contemplative life, declined somewhat and lost in vigor. The reason was that, although the monks, as a rule, shunned the care of souls and other exterior ministry, yet they came by degrees to combine the works of active life with their pondering on divine things and their contemplation. They thought that they ought to comply with the earnest request of the bishops and assist in the labors of the secular priests who were not able to cope with the many needs of the faithful, or, that it behoved them to take charge of popular instruction - an object of Charlemagne’s solicitude. Moreover, owing to the widespread disturbances of these times, monasteries had perhaps suffered some harm and had slackened.

Consequently it was highly important for the Church that this most holy form of life, which had been kept unimpaired for so many centuries in monasteries, should be restored to its pristine vigor, so that there should never be lacking men of prayer who, unimpeded by any other care, would be perpetually besieging the Divine Mercy and would thus draw down from heaven benefits of every sort upon men, too neglectful of their salvation. According to His great kindness, God, Who is ever attentive to the needs and well-being of His Church, chose BRUNO, a man of eminent sanctity, for the work of bringing the contemplative life back to the glory of its original integrity. To that intent Bruno founded the Carthusian Order, imbued it with his own spirit and provided it with those laws which might efficaciously induce its members to advance speedily along the way of inward sanctity and of the most rigorous penance, to the preclusion of every sort of exterior ministry and office: laws which would also impel them to persevere with steadfast hearts in the same austere and hard life. Through nearly nine hundred years the Carthusians have so well retained the spirit of their Founder, that unlike other religious bodies, their Order has never in so long a space of time needed any reform.

Who can help feeling admiration for these men, shut off completely and for all their lifetime from the society of men in order to give themselves up to a sort of hidden and silent apostolate for the eternal salvation of their fellow-creatures? They live each one in the solitude of his cell all the year round and never leave it for any reason nor under any stress of any need. At fixed hours of the day and night they assemble in the sacred temple, not merely to chant the Divine Office without modulation, as is the custom in other Orders, but to sing the whole of it with a lively and full voice in lifelike, molded tones - according to the very ancient Gregorian melodies of their choir books, and with the accompaniment of no musical instrument. How should God who is so merciful, fail to grant the prayers of those most pious brethren who thus raise their voices to Him in behalf of the Church and of sinners who need conversion? Wherefore, just as Bruno never lacked the esteem and benevolence of our predecessor, Urban II, who, having had that very learned and holy man for his master in the school of Rheims, later on, when he was Pope, took him for his counselor and made use of him in that capacity, in like manner the Carthusian Order has continuously enjoyed the special favor of the Apostolic See, commendable as that Order has ever been for the simplicity together with a certain holy rusticity in the way of living of its members. We ourselves bear the Carthusian monks no less good-will and we wish as much as anyone that so valuable an institution should spread and increase.

For, if ever it was needful that there should be anchorites of that sort in the Church of God it is most especially expedient nowadays when we see so many Christians living without a thought for the things of the next world and utterly regardless of their eternal salvation, giving reign to their desire for earthly pelf and the pleasures of the flesh and adopting and exhibiting publicly as well as in their private lives pagan manners altogether opposed to the Gospel. And there are perhaps some who still deem that the virtues which are misnamed "passive" have long grown obsolete and that the broader and more liberal exercise of active virtues should be substituted for the ancient discipline of the cloister. This opinion our predecessor of immortal memory, Leo XIII, refuted, exploded and condemned; and no one can fail to see how harmful and baneful that opinion is to Christian perfection as it is taught and practiced in the Church.

It is, besides, easy to understand how they who assiduously fulfill the duty of prayer and penance contribute much more to the increase of the Church and the welfare of mankind than those who labor in tilling the Master's field; for unless the former drew down from heaven a shower of divine graces to water the field that is being tilled, the evangelical laborers would reap forsooth from their toil a more scanty crop. It is hardly necessary to say what great hope and expectation the Carthusian monks inspire in us, seeing that since they keep the rule of their Order not only accurately but also with generous ardor, and since that rule easily carries those who observe it to the higher degree of sanctity, it is impossible that those religious should not become and remain powerful pleaders with our most merciful God for all Christendom.

Prayer:

All powerful, eternal God, You prepare dwelling places in heaven for those who renounce this world. We humbly beg of Your boundless clemency that through the intercession of our blessed Father Bruno, Your Confessor, we may faithfully fulfill the vows of our profession, and safely attain those things You have promised to all who persevere in Your friendship. This we ask through our Lord Jesus Christ Your Son, Who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Sancte Pater Bruno

From the Museo della Certosa is the Italian publication titled, "I Colori del Silenzio". And in that publication is a loving tribute to Holy Father Bruno. It is shared here on this day where around the world the Carthusian Order celebrates the Solemnity of Saint Bruno.

* * * * * *

There are lives, my God, which may be approached only with respect, holy grounds where Your mystery shines. No one can contemplate them without being enlightened by You, no one can find them without being inflamed by Your Spirit.

6 October 1101, Sunday, at the Hermitage of Santa Maria della Torre in Calabria, Italy there were some monks, and in the midst of them a man laid down. Tears were in their eyes and choking cries in their voices. The guide of their souls, their father . . . had reached the time of his birth into eternity. This man is you, Bruno. In this instant, your whole life, more than seventy years, is in your heart, the final offering to the Father.

Behold your first years in Cologne, where you were born, your departure for Rheims in France, that great and celebrated school of theology, your scholarly enlightened intuitions, and your appointment as canon of that church. The face of Archbishop Gervais, his decision of promoting you, at the early age of twenty-eight, to master of the most celebrated school of this time; students from all over Europe flocked together to listen to you, as your fame continually increased; then came the archbishop’s death in July 1067.

Behold the newly elected Manasse, his greed, his rages, the first discords, the increasing disorder, the scandals, while the Church reforms herself thanks to the Holy Father, Gregory VII; your sufferings, and the firm decision to voice your displeasure of the papal Legate. In the final months of 1076 came the retaliations of Manasse, depriving you of all your charges and goods – leading to the way of exile, a long and painful fight which lasted four years. At last the decision of the Pope: to depose, to dismiss the bishop from his See, while all eyes looked upon you to be the successor. But . . . in the silence of your heart, suddenly, another Heart! Your exile was the first stage of a long interior pilgrimage.

Behold the call of Christ: to leave everything so as to follow Him, to resume the way of the first fathers of the desert; the astonishment of all, the admiration for you, the light of Rheims, who was already fifty-five years old; then Sèche-Fontaine, the first attempt at solitary life with two other monks, but soon they defected and you searched for a second hermitage.

Behold your new companions: Landuin, two men named Stephen, and Hugh; these four were clerics, and with them were Andrew and Guérin, the first lay brothers. Their faces are still now in your heart, your brothers so beloved. And all seven were united as the flames of the archangels before the Almighty. You asked Hugh, the holy Bishop of Grenoble, for a place to live, hidden in God. Hugh of Grenoble was a friend of your heart. He helped you immediately without reservation; he had a dream about seven stars that guided him into the desert of Chartreuse to glorify God.

On June 1084, nearing the feast of Saint John the Baptist, you arrived at the place foreseen in the dream, to begin a great adventure still unknown. Behold your monastery, lost in the mountains, the first years, the ascetic struggle, the peace of the Spirit. Such fire in your souls, such love in your hearts! You, Bruno, already possessed pure praise and cries of amazement: "O Bonitas! O Bonitas!" (O the Goodness! O the Goodness!).

Six years of toils, six years of joy; God, God, God always, only God, together with your brothers! Then, unexpectedly, the trial . . . In the first months of 1090 a courier of the Pope arrived with this message: Urban II, a former student of yours, calls you to his service at his side. The sun sets, it is night. Leaving everything, abandoning all, again, undoubtedly forever, your solitude in God, that blessed solitude, your companions of life, your friends. But in your heart, the "yes", which is your love for God and for the Church. But the tempest overwhelms your brothers, the bewilderment takes them, and they disperse. To be without you, the master, the star of the journey: How could they? This way is so difficult. Everything collapses. Everything! Your heart is on the cross. It is the hour of your passion. Has the beautiful adventure reached its end? "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by! Yet, not my will, but Yours be done." The sky opens, a new day is born. Your brothers again gather in the desert guided by Landuin. Your soul is suffering less, Bruno, at the hour of departure.

Behold Rome, the holy city, the heart of Christianity! But Rome is threatened. Shortly after your arrival, the Emperor Enrico IV and his protected, the antipope Clement III, launched their troops towards it. Urban II and his court fled to the south, near the land of the Norman allies. And still another trial: the Holy Father offers you the archbishopric of Reggio Calabria. What were you to do, Bruno? This is such a difficult time for the Church, as a brilliant future opens up for you – a counsellor for the Pope, a trustworthy man, admired by all. But in your soul still resounds the call, continuous, powerful, captivating, even stronger in the splendour of this court: Only God! Only God! To be His, completely His, only His, together with other brothers! Only God! Your heart, a cry of love for Him! Father, will You forget Your son? It is You Who has sown the cry in him . . . Bruno, the Lord responds, Urban II blesses your vocation: yes, you may resume your solitary life. "O Bonitas! O Bonitas! My life and my all, my beloved forever." (Autumn of 1090).

Your heart would like to return to Chartreuse, to find your brothers. But the Pope asks you to stay in these lands and you accept his words as those of Christ. But where to dwell? A friend of the Holy Father, and soon to be your friend, Count Ruggero, offers you a vast desert territory. Behold your hermitage, Santa Maria della Torre, in the woods of the Serre, and the arrival of new companions, and later others, and yet more, up to thirty-three new sons. Nearby the hermitage stands the monastery of Saint Stephen where the lay brothers lead more a life in community; Landuin guides them, your faithful friend.

Eleven more years, eleven years of hard work and asceticism, eleven years of light and joy in praise, here, in this rich land of monks and hermits, whose history is blessed with their presence. And so, that your joy may be complete, Bruno, one day found the happiness of a visit: Landuin, who brings with him the love of your first sons, and their fidelity. "O Bonitas! O Bonitas!" -- so as to accept this friend of yours in this land that fills your heart, with an embrace and a gaze.

The autumn of life nears the end and your eyes rise towards eternity. Two years have passed since Urban II left this world; a year later, on his return journey, Landuin dies professing the faith in the prisons of the antipope; three months before that, in June, Ruggero died. Bruno, heaven calls you. Now . . .

The breath becomes briefer, perspiration bathes you, with your last brothers, you proclaim your faith, a hymn to the Trinity. The instant is near, time opens. Bruno, look at this grand light, so immense: "My Lord and my God."

"It is Me My friend, come! Enter into My Heart. Come! Come."

"O Bonitas! O Bonitas!"

Bruno, stay with us!

"I will remain in your hearts."

Everything stood still. Silence freezes us in its density. Fire has consumed the last twigs, the flame has vanished. Bruno . . . your face is so beautiful, illuminated by peace; and your eyes, open towards heaven, are overflowing with an infinite tenderness. A hand closes them in the ultimate sleep. Your life is hidden in Him, for all eternity. Fullness of joy! Ocean of love!

But your light still shines in our hearts and in your two letters, for your friend Raoul and your brothers of Chartreuse, who will bear witness forever to your mystery. You are so present in them, your profound humanity, finesse, your sweetness and goodness, your harmony throughout, your wisdom, all tenderness and humility, spiritual joy, simplicity - Bruno, all-burning with your love of God, and the God-Love in you.

Yes, you are alive forever. And, like a planted seed, from you will rise a tree where different birds will make their nests. Are you not seeing it in the Eyes of God?

A life-flame of prayer still consumes itself roundabout you, Bruno; it burns in this place from where now you fly towards heaven, so as to make descend from there a great light of melody and love. Together with the first, behold all your sons and daughters, throughout the centuries, until this day and even further, all of us who, invisibly are around you on this 6 October, in this instant of your great birth, Bruno.