{"id":776,"date":"2008-08-27T09:29:21","date_gmt":"2008-08-27T09:29:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/viamedia\/2008\/08\/st-monica.html"},"modified":"2008-08-27T09:29:21","modified_gmt":"2008-08-27T09:29:21","slug":"st-monica","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/viamedia\/2008\/08\/st-monica.html","title":{"rendered":"St. Monica"},"content":{"rendered":"

From today’s Office of Readings, in turn from, of course the Confessions:<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n

Because the day when she was to leave this life was drawing near\u00a0\u2013 a day known to you, though we were ignorant of it\u00a0\u2013 she and I happened to be alone, through (as I believe) the mysterious workings of your will. We stood leaning against a window which looked out on a garden within the house where we were staying, at Ostia on the Tiber; for there, far from the crowds, we were recruiting our strength after the long journey, in order to prepare ourselves for our voyage overseas. We were alone, conferring very intimately. Forgetting what lay in the past, and stretching out to what was ahead, we enquired between ourselves, in the light of present truth, into what you are and what the eternal life of the saints would be like, for Eye has not seen nor ear heard nor human heart conceived it.<\/em> And yet, with the mouth of our hearts wide open we panted thirstily for the celestial streams of your fountain, the fount of life which is with you.
\nThis was the substance of our talk, though not the exact words. Yet you know, O Lord, how on that very day, amid this talk of ours that seemed to make the world with all its charms grow cheap, she said, \u201cFor my part, my son, I no longer find pleasure in anything that this life holds. What I am doing here still, or why I am still here, I do not know, for worldly hope has withered away for me. One thing only there was for which I desired to linger in this life: to see you a Catholic Christian before I died. And my God has granted this to me more lavishly than I could have hoped, letting me see even you spurning earthly happiness to be his servant. What am I still doing here?\u201d
\nWhat I replied I cannot clearly remember, because just about that time\u00a0\u2013 five days later, or not much more\u00a0\u2013 she took to her bed with fever. One day during her illness she lapsed into unconsciousness and for a short time was unaware of her surroundings. We all came running, but she quickly returned to her senses, and, gazing at me and my brother as we stood there, she asked in puzzlement, \u201cWhere was I?\u201d
\nWe were bewildered with grief, but she looked keenly at us and said, \u201cYou are to bury your mother here\u201d. I was silent, holding back my tears, but my brother said something about his hope that she would not die far from home but in her own country, for that would be a happier way. On hearing this she looked anxious and her eyes rebuked him for thinking so; then she turned her gaze from him to me and said, \u201cWhat silly talk!\u201d Shortly afterwards, addressing us both, she said, \u201cLay this body anywhere, and take no trouble over it. One thing only do I ask of you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be\u201d. Having made her meaning clear to us with such words as she could muster, she fell silent, and the pain of the disease grew worse.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Last year, Fr. Z blogged on St. Monica’s tomb which is in Rome.<\/a>
\nThe tomb is in the Church of Sant’Agostino, which also where you can see Caravaggio’s wonderful Madonna di Loreto. <\/em><\/a>
\nSt. Monica, pray for us!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

From today’s Office of Readings, in turn from, of course the Confessions: Because the day when she was to leave this life was drawing near\u00a0\u2013 a day known to you, though we were ignorant of it\u00a0\u2013 she and I happened to be alone, through (as I believe) the mysterious workings of your will. We stood…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":180,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-776","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news"],"yoast_head":"\nSt. Monica - Via Media<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/viamedia\/2008\/08\/st-monica.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"St. Monica - Via Media\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"From today’s Office of Readings, in turn from, of course the Confessions: Because the day when she was to leave this life was drawing near\u00a0\u2013 a day known to you, though we were ignorant of it\u00a0\u2013 she and I happened to be alone, through (as I believe) the mysterious workings of your will. 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The Catholicism comes from her side. Amy grew up in a number of places - Indiana - Washington, DC - Lubbock Texas - Arlington, Virginia - DeKalb, Illinois - Lawrence, Kansas - and Knoxville, Tennessee, where the family settled in 1973. She attended Knoxville Catholic High School, then the University of Tennessee where she majored in history. She received an MA in Church History from Vanderbilt University, where she wrote a thesis on the changing role of women in 19th century American Protestantism, and the ways Scripture was used to justify those changes. She worked as as a teacher in Catholic high schools and a Parish Director of Religious Education and started writing for the diocesan press - the Florida Catholic - in 1988. Amy has written columns for Our Sunday Visitor and Catholic News Service at times over the past twenty years. Her articles have been published in venues ranging from Our Sunday Visitor to the New York Times to Commonweal. She has written 17 books. 18, if you included the as yet tragically unpublished novel. Amy has five children, ranging in age from 26 to 4 and was married to Michael Dubruiel, who died unexpectedly in February 2009. 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