Our Saint in His Time
THIS MONTH, I would like to present Saint Anthony against the background of the times he lived in, times every bit as interesting and exciting as ours.
As we all know, our Saint was born in Lisbon, a city which had only a generation before been retaken by the Portuguese from the Almohad Muslim dynasty that ruled both north-west Africa and much of the Iberian peninsula. It is quite possible that his grandfather had taken part in the great siege of Lisbon, together with knights from as far afield as England, and had been rewarded with land outside the city and a town residence within it. Certainly young Fernando (as he was baptised) grew up in the shadow of the newly-built Cathedral, whose first post-conquest Bishop had been Gilbert of Hastings. The Sarum Rite (the usage of England) long continued to be the use of Lisbon, familiar therefore to the future Saint.
A cosmopolitan city
Because Lisbon was a great commercial centre, where the Tagus river meets the Atlantic, the change of political control did not mean a change in trade. Muslim and Jewish merchants still frequented the market-places of the city, and Fernando would have had plenty of opportunities to observe their culture and learn a little of their beliefs. When, later on, he wanted to go as a missionary to Morocco, it was to a people he could envisage as real human beings, dear to God and in need of the Gospel. His Italian biographers write as if Lisbon was ‘at the ends of the earth’ (and it was, to them), but for those living there it was a meeting point for many cultures, from Scandinavia to West Africa and beyond, all linked by the seaways of the Atlantic.
The Abbey of Holy Cross
Fernando was born around 1290 (a little earlier than usually said), and was first educated at the Cathedral school. A bright lad, he joined the Canons of the Abbey of St Vincent in his late teens, but asked to be transferred to the Abbey of Holy Cross at Coimbra a year or so later. Coimbra was the royal capital of Portugal, and Holy Cross offered greater opportunities for study. It is clear that Fernando took the initiative in seeking this move – a young man who knew what he was about.
At Coimbra he was a diligent scholar – his later writings show that he had learnt the Scriptures by heart, and had read extensively in the Fathers, especially St Augustine, St Gregory and St Bernard. According to the custom of the time, he would have gained the expected academic qualifications in Theology, as well as proceeding to priestly ordination. The life of a Canon was one of study rather than manual work (unlike that of the monastic orders), and preaching was expected to be a large part of their priestly ministry.
The Franciscan door
Around 1217, the first Franciscans arrived on the outskirts of Coimbra. It is impossible that their arrival, and their new kind of religious life, passed unnoticed at the Abbey of Holy Cross. Canon Fernando would have been given food for thought regarding his own ambitions. The crisis came when the bodies of five friars sent to Morocco to preach to the Muslims were returned to Coimbra for a state funeral. It is usually said that Fernando was inspired with a desire for martyrdom. My own guess is that he had his own ideas about how the mission to Islam should be conducted. The Italian friars had (by human standards) been indiscreet. They had converted nobody, offended many, and paid the price. (If this seems harsh, we should remember that Francis himself had had a very different reception in Egypt at the same time.) Fernando might justifiably have thought that his own upbringing in Lisbon had prepared him better for such a mission.
Once again, he took the initiative in making a transfer to the new Order, overcoming the objections of his current superiors and gaining an assurance that his new ones would indeed send him to Morocco. He knew what he wanted, and was determined to get it. This is no reflection on his zeal and devotion, but it does indicate a strong will and clear vision. These qualities were soon to meet with a setback no determination could overcome. As we all know, having changed his name from Fernando to Anthony (by no means required or even usual at the time), he succeeded in reaching the land of the Moors, but fell ill throughout his first winter, and was shipped back as soon as Spring arrived. It was a little too soon, because a gale blew his ship far off course, and he was put ashore in Sicily. From there he made his was to Assisi for the General Chapter.
All this must have been traumatic for the young friar. Having ‘loved to see and choose his path’, he found his way blocked at every turn. Not only was he driven from his chosen mission-field, he was sent to a region he did not know at all. From being a well-respected Canon with a good career ahead of him, he reached Assisi as a complete nobody, with no idea what he was to do. Left on the shelf at the end of the Chapter, he was only too glad to be taken on by any Minister Provincial, and assigned as chaplain to the remote hermitage of Monte Paolo. He needed time to sort himself out, to discover what God, not he himself, wanted of him.
Teacher of Theology
It was probably a very happy time at Monte Paolo: saying Mass for the brothers, spending time in prayer and contemplation, and being content with the menial task of washing the dishes. Bliss! But it was still not what God wanted him to do for ever. The story of how Anthony’s gift for preaching was discovered at an Ordination ceremony is well known, and I will not repeat it, but it was followed by a commission from the superiors of the Order to preach in northern Italy, where the Saint became well known, and probably for the first time came to the notice of Cardinal Ugolino, Protector of the Order and a personal friend of St Francis.
Ugolino was very concerned that the Friars, in order to be effective preachers of the Gospel in the face of heresy, should receive a sound theological training. Francis, as is well known, had reservations about intellectual study for his brothers. However, he was prevailed upon to write to Anthony (addressing him jocularly by the title ‘my Bishop’, just as he sometimes referred to Ugolino as ‘my Pope’) asking him to teach theology to the brothers, as long as it did not hinder the spirit of prayer.
How was Anthony to fulfil this commission? There is reason to believe that he began to give some lectures in Bologna, but (presumably at the General Chapter of 1224) he was given his first responsibility as a religious superior, being sent to Limoges as Custos. Limoges was in the Province of Aquitaine, which at that time was under the rule of the English Crown. It is interesting, then, to see that for a little while Anthony was a subject of the King of England! We do not know a great deal about this time in France, but if we piece together odd details from early authors we can infer that he visited Arles (where he preached at a Provincial Chapter), Montpelier, Toulouse, and Bourges (where he preached at a Church Synod). He also fulfilled his duty of oversight over the Franciscan communities in the Limoges area.
Ark of the Testament
Most importantly, it was during this time that Anthony began work on the ‘Sunday Work’, or ‘Work on the Gospels’, the set of Commentaries that we now usually call his ‘Sermons’. How was he to teach Theology to the friars? He could not lecture in the traditional way to such a diverse and scattered Order, so he decided to write a book of instruction, giving preachers the raw materials from which they could construct their own sermons.
I believe most of his actual writing was done in the Winter season, when it was difficult to travel on preaching missions. There were two such winters in the Limoges period, 1224/5 and 1225/6. On October 3, 1226, the beloved Founder, Francis, died and news was sent to all the Provinces summoning local superiors to the General Chapter of Pentecost 1227 to elect a successor. Anthony probably set out in the Spring of 1227, and at the Chapter he was appointed Provincial in northern Italy, making his residence probably at Padua. During the next three years he was very much involved in the internal politics of the Order, which was divided over the correct interpretation of Francis’s vision. He visited Rome with other Provincials, and around this time preached to the Curia, gaining from the Pope (by now Gregory IX, the former Cardinal Ugolino) the friendly nick-name ‘Ark of the Testament’. His period of Office ended in 1230 at the Chapter at Assisi marred by unseemly wrangling at the reburial of Francis’ remains in the crypt of the new Basilica. Anthony’s health was failing, and he may have been glad of the excuse to leave the hot-house of Franciscan politics.
The close of the day
Anthony had by now completed his work on the Gospels, and being freed from administrative responsibilities gave himself anew to the work of preaching. He began a follow-up work on the Saints and Festivals in the Winter of 1231/2, interrupting it for one last mission to the City of Padua in Lent 1232. His closing days are well known: retiring for rest at Camposampiero, he rendered his glorious soul to God at Arcella (Padua) on June 13, 1232.
Anthony was no plaster saint – he was a man of his time, involved in all its turmoil, but passionate in his over-riding aim, to bring men and women to conversion and to closer union with Jesus Christ. His likeness (skilfully sculpted from his actual skull) shows a man of lively aspect, and with a slightly quizzical look. It is a friendly face, a kindly face. Through his writings he still speaks to us; by his life he still inspires us; by his prayers he still aids us.