The Glorious Duty of Man
From the catechetical instructions by Saint John Mary Vianney, Priest (1786-1859)
The glorious duty of man: to pray and to love
Narrated by Frank Dugan, Huntington Beach, California
My little children, reflect on these words: the Christian’s treasure is not on earth but in heaven. Our thoughts, then, ought to be directed to where our treasure is. This is the glorious duty of man: to pray and to love. If you pray and love, that is where a man’s happiness lies.
Prayer is nothing else but union with God. When one has a heart that is pure and united with God, he is given a kind of serenity and sweetness that makes him ecstatic, a light that surrounds him with marvelous brightness. In this intimate union, God and the soul are fused together like two bits of wax that no one can ever pull apart. This union of God with a tiny creature is a lovely thing. It is a happiness beyond understanding.
We had become unworthy to pray, but God in his goodness allowed us to speak with him. Our prayer is incense that gives him the greatest pleasure.
My little children, your hearts are small, but prayer stretches them and makes them capable of loving God. Through prayer we receive a foretaste of heaven and something of paradise comes down upon us. Prayer never leaves us without sweetness. It is honey that flows into the soul and makes all things sweet. When we pray properly, sorrows disappear like snow before the sun.
Prayer also makes time pass very quickly and with such great delight that one does not notice its length. Listen: Once when I was a purveyor in Bresse and most of my companions were ill, I had to make a long journey. I prayed to the good God, and, believe me, the time did not seem long.
Some men immerse themselves as deeply in prayer as fish in water, because they give themselves totally to God. There is no division in their hearts. O, how I love these noble souls! Saint Francis of Assisi and Saint Colette used to see our Lord and talk to him just as we talk to one another.
How unlike them we are! How often we come to church with no idea of what to do or what to ask for. And yet, whenever we go to any human being, we know well enough why we go. And still worse, there are some who seem to speak to the good God like this: “I will only say a couple of things to you, and then I will be rid of you.” I often think that when we come to adore the Lord, we would receive everything we ask for, if we would ask with living faith and with a pure heart.
Source: The Liturgy of the Hours – Office of Readings – August 4th
Saint John Vianney (1786-1859) was born at Dardilly, France, on May 8, 1786 and grew up as a shepherd on his father’s farm. Early on, he was attracted to the priesthood and, at twenty, began studies at Ecully under Abbe Balley. He found great difficulty with his studies, especially with Latin. Though an ecclesiastical student, he was drafted through an error into Napoleon’s army. He deserted but was able to return home when Napoleon granted amnesty to all deserters in 1810. The following year he was tonsured and went to the major seminary at Lyons in 1813.
Still beset by difficulties with his studies he was finally ordained in 1815 after the decision was made that his deep spirituality and goodness more than offset deficiencies in his studies. In 1818 he was appointed cure’ of Ars, where he spent the rest of his life. He labored to improve the indifferent religious attitude of his parishioners. His war on immorality, indifference, and frivolities was unceasing, making him some enemies. Eventually he was able to reform the entire village. His reputation as a spiritual director and confessor (he often spent sixteen to eighteen hours a day in the confessional) spread, and a shrine he built to St. Philomena became a place of pilgrimage.
Though he had the gift of insight into men’s minds and souls, he was often referred to scornfully for his lack of learning and rejected for higher positions by his superiors. He was subjected to continuing diabolical attacks and beatings from Satin over a thirty-year period. Attracted all his life to the Carthusians, he left Ars three times in search of solitude but returned each time to aid the sinners who sought him in ever-increasing numbers. He refused all honors offered him late in life and died at Ars on August 4, 1859 at the age of 73. Today, he is venerated as the beloved “Cure’ of Ars” and was canonized a saint in 1925 by Pope Pius XI, and declared the patron of parish priests in 1929.