Elizabeth, daughter of Andrew king of Hungary,
feared God from her infancy and increased in piety as she advanced in
age. She was married to Lewis, landgrave of Hesse and Thuringia, and
devoted herself to the service of God and of her husband. She used to
rise in the night and spend a long time in prayer, and moreover she
devoted herself to works of mercy, diligently caring for widows and
orphans, the sick and the poor. In time of famine she freely
distributed her store of grain. She received lepers into her house,
and kissed their hands and feet. She also built a splendid hospital
where the poor might be fed and cared for.
On the death of her husband, in order to serve God
with greater freedom, Elizabeth laid aside all worldly ornaments,
clothed herself in a rough tunic and entered the Order of Penance of
Saint Francis. She was very remarkable for her patience and
humility. Being despoiled of all her possessions and turned out of
her own house, and abandoned by all, she bore insults, mockeries and
reproaches with undaunted courage, rejoicing exceedingly to suffer
thus for God’s sake. She
humbled herself by performing the lowest offices for the poor and
sick, and procured them all they needed, contenting herself with
herbs and vegetables for her only food.
She was living in this holy manner, occupied with
these and many other good works, when the end of her pilgrimage drew
near as she had foretold to her companions. She was absorbed in
divine contemplation, with her eyes fixed on Heaven. And after being
wonderfully consoled by God, and strengthened with the Sacraments,
she fell asleep in our Lord. Many miracles were immediately wrought
at her tomb, and on their being duly proved, Pope Gregory IX enrolled
her among the Saints.
Dom Prosper Guéranger:
Although the blessed in Heaven shine each with his own peculiar glory, God is pleased to group them in families, as He groups the stars in the material firmament. It is grace that presides over the arrangement of these constellations in the Heaven of the Saints, but sometimes it seems as if God wished to remind us that He is the sole Author of both grace and nature. And inviting them, in spite of the fall, to honour Him unitedly in his elect, He causes sanctity to become a glorious heirloom, handed down from generation to generation in the same family on Earth. Among these races none can compare with that royal line which, beginning in ancient Pannonia, spread its branches over the world in the most flourishing days of Christendom: “Rich in virtue and studying beautifulness” (Ecclesiasticus lxiv. 6) as Scripture says, it brought peace into all the royal houses of Europe, with which it was allied, and the many names it has inscribed in the golden book of the blessed perpetuate its glory.
Among these illustrious names, and surrounded by them as a diamond set in a circle of pearls, greatest, in the esteem of the Church and of the people, is that of the amiable Saint who was ripe for Heaven at the age of 24 years, and who ascended on this day into the company of Stephen, Emeric, and Ladislaus. Elizabeth was not inferior to them in manly virtues, but the simplicity of her loving soul added to the heroism of her race a sweetness whose fragrance drew after her along the path of sanctity her daughter Gertrude of Thuringia and her relatives Hedwige of Silesia, Agnes of Bohemia, Margaret of Hungary, Cunigund of Poland, and Elizabeth of Portugal. All the poetry of those chivalrous times appears in the beautiful pages of contemporaneous writers as they describe to us the innocent child, transplanted like a tender flower from the court of Hungary to that of Thuringia, and her life of devotedness there, with a bridegroom worthy to witness the ecstasies of her lofty but ingenuous piety, and to defend her heroic virtue against her slanderers. To the stewards who complained that during the absence of Duke Lewis she had, in spite of their remonstrances, exhausted the revenues upon the poor, he replied: “I desire that my Elizabeth be at liberty to act as she wishes, provided she leaves me Warteburg and Naumburg.” Our Lord opened the landgrave’s eyes to see transformed into beautiful roses the provisions Elizabeth was carrying to the poor. Jesus crucified appeared in the leper she had taken into her own apartments that she might the better tend Him. If it happened that illustrious visitors arrived unexpectedly, and the duchess having bestowed all her jewels in alms was unable to adorn herself becomingly to do them honour, the Angels so well supplied the deficiency that, according to the German chroniclers of the time, it seemed to the astonished guests that the Queen of France herself could not have appeared more strikingly beautiful or more richly attired. Elizabeth indeed was never wanting to any of the obligations or requirements of her position as a wife and as a sovereign princess. As graciously simple in her virtues as she was affable to all, she could not understand the gloomy moroseness which some affected in their prayers and austerities. “They look as if they wanted to frighten our Lord,” she would say, “whereas He loves the cheerful giver.”
The time soon came when she herself had to give generously without counting the cost. First there was the cruel separation from her husband, Duke Lewis, on his departure for the Crusade. Then the heart-rending scene when his death was announced to her, just as she was about to give birth to her fourth child. And thirdly the atrocious act of Henry Raspon, the landgrave’s unworthy brother who, thinking this a good opportunity for seizing the deceased’s estates, drove out his widow and children and forbade anyone to give them hospitality. Then in the very land where every misery had been succoured by her charity, Elizabeth was reduced to the necessity of begging, and not without many rebuffs, a little bread for her poor children, and of seeking shelter with them in a pig-sty. On the return of the knights who had accompanied Duke Lewis to the Holy Land, justice was at length done to our Saint. But Elizabeth, who had become the passionate lover of holy poverty, chose to remain among the poor. She was the first professed Tertiary of the Seraphic Order, and the mantle sent by Saint Francis to his very dear daughter became her only treasure.
The path of perfect self-renunciation soon brought her to the threshold of Heaven. She who 20 years before had been carried to her betrothed in a silver cradle, and robed in silk and gold, now took her flight to God from a wretched hovel, her only garment being a patched gown. The minstrels, whose gay competitions had signalised the year of her birth, were no longer there. But the Angels were heard singing as they bore her up to Heaven: “The kingdom of this world have I despised for the love of Jesus Christ my Lord, whom I have seen, whom I have loved, in whom I have believed, whom I have tenderly loved.” Four years later, Elizabeth, now declared a Saint by the Vicar of Christ, beheld all the nations of the holy Empire, with the emperor himself at their head, hastening to Marburg, where she lay at rest in the midst of the poor whose life she had imitated. Her holy body was committed to the care of the Teutonic Knights, who in return for the honour, made Marburg one of the head-quarters of their Order and raised to her name the first Gothic church in Germany.
Numerous miracles long attracted the Christian world to the spot. And now, though still standing, though still beautiful in its mourning, Saint Elizabeth’s at Marburg knows its glorious titular only by name. And at Warteburg, where the dear Saint went through the sweetest episodes of her life as a child and as a bride, the great memorial now shown to the traveller is the pulpit of an excommunicated monk, and the ink stain with which, in a fit of folly or drunkenness, he had soiled the wall, as he afterwards endeavoured with his pen to profane and sully everything in the Church of God.
* * * * *
What a lesson you leave to the Earth, as you mount up to Heaven, O blessed Elizabeth! We ask with the Church, for ourselves and for all our brethren in the faith: may your glorious prayers obtain from the God of mercy that our hearts may open to the light of your life’s teaching, so that despising worldly prosperity we. may rejoice in heavenly consolations.
The Gospel read in your honour today tells us that the kingdom of Heaven is like a hidden treasure and a precious pearl: the wise and prudent man sells all he has to obtain the treasure or the pearl (Matthew xii.). You well understood this good traffic, as the Epistle calls it (Proverbs xxxi.) and it became the good fortune of all around you: of your happy subjects, who received from you succour and assistance for both soul and body, of your noble husband, who found an honourable place among those princes who knew how to exchange a perishable diadem for an eternal crown: in a word, of all who belonged to you. You were their boast, and several among them followed in your footsteps along the heavenward path of self-renunciation. How is it that others, in an age of destruction, could abjure their title of children of Saints and draw the people after them to deal so wantonly with the sweetest memorials and the noblest traditions? May our Lord restore to His Church and to you the country where you experienced His love. May your supplications, united with ours, revive the ancient faith in those branches of your stock which are no longer nourished with that life-giving sap, and may the glorious trunk continue, in its faithful branches, to give saints to the world.
Also on this day according to the ROMAN
MARTYROLOGY:
The birthday of St. Pontian, pope and martyr, who,
with the priest Hippolytus, was transported to Sardinia by the
emperor Alexander, and there, being scourged to death with rods,
consummated his martyrdom. His body was conveyed to Rome by the
blessed Pope Fabian, and buried in the cemetery of Callistus.
At Samaria, the holy prophet Abdias.
At Rome, on the Via Appia, the birthday of St.
Maximus, priest and martyr, who suffered in the persecution of
Valerian, and was buried near Pope St. Sixtus.
At Caesarea in Cappadocia, St. Barlaam, martyr,
who, though unpolished and ignorant, yet armed with the wisdom of
Christ, overcame the tyrant, and by the constancy of his faith
subdued fire itself. On his birthday, St. Basil the Great delivered a
celebrated discourse.
At Ecijo, the blessed bishop Oispinus, who
obtained the glory of martyrdom by decapitation.
At Vienne, the holy martyrs Severinus, Exuperius
and Felician. Their bodies, after the lapse of many years, were found
through their own revelation, and being taken up with due honours by
the bishop, clergy and people of that city, were buried with becoming
solemnity.
The same day, St. Faustus, deacon of Alexandria,
who was first banished with St. Denis in the persecution of Valerian.
Later, in the persecution of Diocletian, being far advanced in age,
he consummated his martyrdom by the sword.
In Isauria, the martyrdom of Saint Azas and his
military companions, to the number of one hundred and fifty, under
the emperor Diocletian and the tribune Aquilinus.
And in other places, many other holy martyrs,
confessors and virgins.
Thanks be to God.