From: richarra@gmail.com   
      
   April 16th - St. Benedict Joseph Labre (RM)   
      
   Born at Amettes (near Boulogne), Arras, France, March 26 (25?), 1748; died   
   in Rome, April 17 (16?), 1783; beatified in 1860; canonized in 1881.   
   Since God leads each of us in our own way, our spiritual life will assume an   
   pattern totally different from that of anyone else. Each of us is one of a   
   kind. Our spirituality then should also be one of a kind. This is shown   
   dramatically in various people's lives.   
      
   The story of Saint Benedict caught my eye and my heart. He was born in 18th   
   century France in Amettes, then in the diocese of Boulogne-sur-Mer, to a   
   family of prosperous shopkeepers. His mother claimed to feel his sanctity   
   while she carried him in her womb. Because of his piety he was sent to an   
   uncle who was a parish priest at Erin for his education in Latin, grammar,   
   and mathematics to prepare him for the religious life.   
      
   A domestic servant in his uncle's house, probably jealous, used to knock   
   Benedict about when they were alone and forced the youngster to perform   
   chores beyond the strength of his years. Since Benedict seemed to find this   
   odious treatment amusing, the bully was disarmed.   
      
   In freedom from the prying eyes of his preoccupied elders, little Benedict   
   tried his hand at austerities, the recipes for which he found in the dusty   
   library of the presbytery. In addition to almsgiving that gives so much   
   pleasure to the giver, he adopted a minor practice in austerity that was   
   more sane than them all: every night he would replace his pillow with a   
   plank of oakwood. Once upon being surprised while sleeping in this way, he   
   explained, without ostentation: "I do it in order not to sleep too deeply."   
      
   He made steady progress in his studies until he was 16. Then, suddenly, he   
   was unable to learn any more. His uncle died of cholera after he and   
   Benedict had ministered to other victims in the parish. Is this the reason   
   he could learn no more? Or was it because Benedict was overcome by the dark   
   night of the soul, as Saint John of the Cross calls this state, in which God   
   forms the soul and prepares it for union with himself?   
      
   After his uncle's death, he walked 60 miles to La Trappe to become a monk.   
   He was irresistibly drawn to the very austere order. But he was denied   
   entry. He vainly applied numerous times between 1766 and 1770 for entry into   
   the Trappists, Carthusians, and Cistercians, but each time was sent home.   
   For some of the communities he was too young; others, after admitting him,   
   found him to be suffering such spiritual tortures that they couldn't let him   
   stay; to still others, the failure of his physical health was proof that he   
   could not observe the rule and, therefore, must be rejected.   
      
   Finally, Benedict realized that God must have something else in store for   
   him. He went home and told his parents that he felt God was calling him to   
   Rome. Perhaps because he was the eldest of 15 children, they were reluctant   
   but finally gave him their blessing. Off he went on foot to Rome, begging   
   his way.   
      
   Those who have never begged say that it's painful only the first time, but   
   this isn't true. One does not knock on all doors in the same way. It is not   
   true that the same words invariably come to mind in front of different   
   faces. Each time is the first time. How tempting then to deprive yourself of   
   a stale piece of bread which even the dogs would forego and to not ask.   
   Begging is not easy. Try stretching out your own hand and you will see how   
   difficult it is to swallow pride and ask for help.   
      
   Saint Vincent de Paul understood that the beggar needs us and deprives   
   himself of us because we deprive ourselves of him. A beggar is a man who is   
   completely at our mercy, and whom we never thank for the opportunity to act   
   in God's Name.   
      
   The saint wandered to Italy to seek admission there into a strict monastery   
   or community of hermits. In Italy he experienced inner enlightenment and   
   clearly recognized that it was God's will that, like Saint Alexis, he was to   
   leave his home, his father and mother, and everything that was agreeable in   
   the world, in order to lead a new life, a life of rigorous penance, in the   
   midst of the world, as an eternal pilgrim.   
      
   From the moment of this recognition, his soul was filled with perfect peace,   
   and all attempts made by confessors to bring him back to an ordered life,   
   with work, failed.   
      
   Benedict Joseph wandered. For the next three or four years he wandered about   
   western Europe, going from shrine to shrine. He went to Santiago de   
   Compostella in Spain, to Aix-en-Provence and Paray-le-Monial in France, to   
   Assisi, Loreto, and Bari in Italy. He paid repeated visits to Einsiedeln and   
   to German sanctuaries, made a pilgrimage every year to Loretto, and   
   continued to make Rome his city of perpetual pilgrimage. He always traveled   
   on foot, slept in the open or in some corner, his clothing rags, his body   
   filthy, picking up food where he could, and sharing any money given to him.   
      
   As he traveled in his sack-cloth cinched with a rope, he carried with him   
   only his perpetual nourishment: the Imitation of Christ, the New Testament,   
   and a breviary. His rosary was made from the berries of wild rose bushes,   
   which he would eat when they began to wear out.   
      
   He finally settled in Rome in 1774, where he found his vocation as a tramp,   
   wandering the streets with other vagrants. How could this be a vocation? He   
   dressed in rags and wandered from shrine to shrine. Eventually he became   
   widely known as one of the homeless who roamed the streets accepting crumbs   
   of food and clothes that the charitable would give him.   
      
   During the day he spent most of his time in churches with perpetual   
   adoration; at night he wandered to the seven major basilicas. He quenched   
   his thirst at the fountains; he lived from remnants of food found in the   
   streets. He slept for a few hours under an arch of the Coliseum at the   
   station of the Cross named "Simon of Cyrene helps Jesus to carry the Cross."   
   As time went on people began to realize that there was something different   
   about this tramp. He became known as the 'beggar of the Coliseum' or the   
   'beggar of the perpetual adoration.'   
      
   It was rumored that he was of high birth but had committed a murder or other   
   heinous crime and now sought atonement. Alms given to him burned in his   
   hand; he passed them on to other who he deemed more needy. He was once   
   beaten by a man who thought Benedict had spurned his offer of money because   
   he gave it away.   
      
   His soul hovered constantly over the greatest mysteries of the faith. And,   
   just as all water streams to the sea, so everything carried him on to the   
   mysteries of the Most Holy Trinity. "When I contemplate the crowning of   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)