Pope Gregory VII, whose baptismal name was
Hildebrand, was born at Soana in Tuscany in about 1020. He excelled
in learning, sanctity and every virtue, and rendered extraordinary
service to the whole Church of God. It is related of him that when he
was a little boy he happened to be at play in a carpenter’s
shop when, gathering together the waste pieces of wood, he arranged
them so as that they formed these words of David’s
prophecy, though the boy knew not his alphabet: “He will rule from
sea to sea.” It was God who guided the child’s
hand, and would thus signify that at some future time Gregory was to
exercise an authority that would extend over the whole world. He
afterwards went to Rome and was educated under the protection of
Saint Peter. He was intensely grieved at finding the liberty of the
Church crushed by lay interference and at beholding the depraved
lives of the clergy. He, therefore, while still young, retired to the
monastery of Cluny where strict monastic discipline was then in full
vigour under the Rule of Holy Father Benedict. He there received the
habit. So fervent was he in the service of the Divine Majesty that
the holy religious of that Monastery chose him as their Prior.
But divine Providence having for the general good
destined him to a higher work, Hildebrand was taken from Cluny, and
was first made Abbot of the monastery of Saint Paul’s
Outside the Walls (Rome) and, afterwards, was created Cardinal of the
Roman Church. He was entrusted with offices and missions of the
highest importance under Popes Leo IX, Victor II, Stephen IX,
Nicholas II and Alexander II. Saint Peter Damian used to call him the
most holy and upright counsellor. Having been sent into France, as
Legate a latere by Pope Victor II, by a miracle he compelled the
Archbishop of Lyons to own that he had been guilty of simony. He also
obliged Berenarius to repeat, at a Council held at Tours, his
abjuration of heresy. The schism of Cadolaus was also repressed by
his energetic measures.
At the death of Alexander II, in spite of his own
repugnance and to his great sorrow, Hildebrand was chosen as
Sovereign Pontiff by the unanimous votes, on the tenth of the Calends
of May in 1073. He shone as the sun in the House of God for, being
mighty in work and word, he applied himself to the renovation of
ecclesiastical discipline, to the propagation of the faith, to the
restoration of the Church’s
liberty, and to the extirpation of false doctrines and scandals —
but all this with so much zeal that it may truly be said that no
Pontiff since the time of the Apostles ever laboured or suffered more
for God’s Church, or
fought more strenuously for that same Church’s
liberty. He drove simony out of several provinces. He, like a
dauntless soldier, bravely withstood the impious designs of the
Emperor Henry, and feared not to set himself as a wall for the
defence of the house of Israel. And when that same Henry had plunged
himself into the abyss of crime, Gregory deprived him of communion
with the faithful, and of his kingdom, and absolved his subjects from
their oath of allegiance to him.
At times, when he was saying Mass, several holy
persons saw a dove come down from Heaven, rest on his right shoulder
and cover his head with its wings. This signified that Gregory, in
governing the Church, was guided by the inspirations of the Holy
Ghost and not by the suggestions of human prudence. When Rome was
closely besieged by Henry’s
army, the Pontiff, by the sign of the Cross, quenched a conflagration
that had been raised by the besiegers. When, afterwards, he was
delivered from his enemy by the Norman chieftain, Robert Guiscard,
Gregory repaired to Monte Cassino and thence to Salerno, that he
might dedicate the Church of Saint Matthew the Apostle. After
preaching a sermon to the people of that town, he fell ill, for he
was worn out by care. He had the presentiment that this would be his
last sickness. The last words of the dying Pontiff were these: “I
have loved justice, and hated iniquity: for which cause, I die in
exile.” Innumerable were the trials he courageously went through.
He held several Synods in the city, and enacted regulations full of
wisdom. He was, in all truth, a saintly man, an avenger of crime, and
a most vigorous defender of the Church. After a Pontificate of 12
years, he left this Earth for Heaven in 1085. Many miracles were
wrought by him and through his merit, both before and after his
death. His holy remains were buried with all due honour in the
Cathedral Church of Salerno.
Dom
Prosper Guéranger:
Our Easter Calendar has already
given us the two great Popes, Leo the Great and Pius V. It bids us,
today, pay honour to the glorious memory of Gregory VII. These three
names represent the action of the Papacy dating from the period of
the Persecutions. The mission divinely put upon the successors of
Saint Peter is this: the maintaining intact the truths of Faith, and
the defending the liberty of the Church. Saint Leo courageously and
eloquently asserted the ancient Faith which was called in question by
the heretics of those days. Saint Pius V stemmed the torrent of the
so-called Reformation and delivered Christendom from the yoke of
Mahometanism. Saint Gregory VII came between these two and saved
society from the greatest danger it had so far incurred, and restored
the purity of Christian morals by restoring the liberty of the
Church.
The end of the tenth, and the
commencement of the eleventh, century was a period that brought upon
the Church of Christ one of the severest trials she has ever endured.
The two great scourges of Persecution and Heresy had subsided. They
were followed by that of Barbarism. The impulse given to civilisation
by Charlemagne was checked early in the ninth century. The Barbarian
element had been but suppressed, and broke out again with renewed
violence. Faith was still vigorous among the people, but of itself it
could not triumph over the depravity of morals. The feudal system had
produced anarchy throughout the whole of Europe. Anarchy created
social disorder, and this in its turn occasioned the triumph of might
and licentiousness over right. Kings and princes were no longer kept
in check by the power of the Church for, Rome herself being a prey to
factions, unworthy or unfit men were but too frequently raised to the
Papal throne.
The eleventh century came. Its
years were rapidly advancing and there seemed no remedy for the
disorders it had inherited. Bishoprics had fallen a prey to the
secular power which set them up for sale and the first requisite for
a candidate to a prelacy was that he should be a vassal subservient
to the ruler of the nation, ready to supply him with means for
prosecuting war. The bishops being thus for the most part simoniacal,
as Saint Peter Damian tells us they were, what could be expected from
the inferior clergy, but scandals? The climax of these miseries was
that ignorance increased with each generation and threatened to
obliterate the very notion of duty. There was an end to both Church
and society, had it not been for the promise of Christ that He would
never abandon His own work.
In order to remedy these evils,
in order to dispel all this mist of ignorance, Rome was to be raised
from her state of degradation. She needed a holy and energetic
Pontiff whose consciousness of having God on his side would make him
heedless of opposition and difficulties: a Pontiff whose reign should
be long enough to make his influences felt, and encourage his
successors to continue the work of reform. This was the mission of
Saint Gregory VII. This mission was prepared for by holiness of life.
It is always so with those whom God destines to be the instruments of
his greatest works. Gregory or, as he was then called, Hildebrand,
left the world and became a monk of the celebrated Monastery of
Cluny, in France. It was there, and in the two thousand Abbeys which
were affiliated with it, that were alone to be then found zeal for
the liberty of the Church and the genuine traditions of the monastic
life. It was there, that, for upwards of a hundred years and under
the four great Abbots, Odo, Maiolus, Odilo and Hugh, God had been
secretly providing for the regeneration of Christian morals. Yes, we
may well say secretly, for no one would have thought that the
instruments of the holiest of reforms were to be found in those
monasteries which existed in almost every part of Europe, and had
affiliated with Cluny for no other motive than because Cluny was the
sanctuary of every monastic virtue. It was to Cluny itself that
Hildebrand fled when he left the world. He felt sure that he would
find there a shelter from the scandals that then prevailed.
The illustrious Abbot Hugh was
not long in discovering the merits of his new disciple, and the young
Italian was made Prior of the great French Abbey. A stranger came one
day to the gate of the monastery and sought hospitality. It was
Bruno, Bishop of Toul, who had been nominated Pope by the Emperor
Henry III. Hildebrand could not restrain himself on seeing this new
candidate for the Apostolic See — of this Pope whom Rome, which
alone has the right to choose its own bishop, had neither chosen nor
heard of. He plainly told Bruno that he must not accept the keys of
Heaven from the hand of an emperor who was bound in conscience to
submit to the canonical election of the Holy City. Bruno, who was
afterwards Saint Leo IX, humbly acquiesced to the advice given him by
the Prior of Cluny, and both set out for Rome. The elect of the
emperor became the elect of the Roman Church, and Hildebrand prepared
to return to Cluny, but the new Pontiff would not hear of his
departure and obliged him to accept the title and duties of
Archdeacon of the Roman Church. This high post would soon have raised
him to the Papal throne, had he wished it. But Hildebrand’s
only ambition was to break the fetters that kept the Church from
being free, and prepare the reform of Christendom. The influence he
had, he used in procuring the election, canonical and independent of
imperial favour, of Pontiffs who were willing and determined to
exercise their authority for the extirpation of scandals.
After Saint Leo IX came Victor
II, Stephen IX, Nicholas II and Alexander II — all of whom were
worthy of their exalted position. But he who had thus been the very
soul of the Pontificate under five Popes had at length to accept the
tiara himself. His noble heart was afflicted at the presentiment of
the terrible contests that awaited him, but his refusals, his
endeavours to evade the heavy burden of solicitude for all the
Churches, were unavailing and the new Vicar of Christ was made known
to the world, under the name of Gregory VII. “Gregory” means
vigilance, and never did man better realise the name. He had to
contend with brute force personified in a daring and crafty emperor
whose life was stained with every sort of crime, and who held the
Church in his grasp as a vulture does its prey. In no part of the
Empire would a bishop be allowed to hold his See unless he had
received investiture from the emperor by the ring and crosier. Such
was Henry IV of Germany, and his example encouraged the other princes
of the Empire to trample on the liberty of canonical elections by the
same iniquitous measures. The two-fold scandal of simony and
incontinence was still frequent among the clergy.
Gregory’s
immediate predecessors had, by courageous zeal, checked the evil. But
not one of them had ventured to confront the fomenter of all these
abuses — the emperor. That great contest, with its perils and
anxieties, was left for Gregory, and history tells us how fearlessly
he accepted it. The first three years of his Pontificate were,
however, comparatively tranquil. Gregory treated the youthful emperor
with great kindness, out of regard for his father who had deserved
well of the Church. He wrote him several Letters in which he gave him
good advice, or affectionately expressed his confidence in the
future. Henry did not allow that confidence to last long. Aware that
he had to deal with a Pope whom no intimidation could induce to
swerve from duty, he thought it prudent to wait a while and watch the
course of events. But the restraint was unbearable. The torrent had
but swollen by the self-imposed check. The enemy of the spiritual
power gave full vent to his passion. Bishoprics and abbeys were again
sold for the benefit of the imperial revenue. Gregory excommunicated
the simoniacal prelates and Henry, imprudently defying the censures
of the Church, persisted in keeping in their posts men who were
resolved to follow him in all his crimes. Gregory addressed a solemn
warning to the emperor, enjoining him to withdraw his support from
the excommunicated prelate under penalty of himself incurring the
bans of the Church. Henry, who had thrown off the mask and thought he
might afford to despise the Pontiff, was unexpectedly made to tremble
for the security of his throne by the revolt of Saxony in which
several of the Electors of the Empire joined. He felt that a rupture
with the Church at such a critical time might be fatal. He turned
suppliant, besought Gregory to absolve him and made an abjuration of
his past conduct in the presence of two legates sent by the Pontiff
into Germany. But scarcely had the perjured monarch gained a
temporary triumph over the Saxons than he recommenced hostilities
with the Church. In an assembly of bishops worthy of their imperial
master, he presumed to pronounce sentence of deposition against
Gregory. He, shortly afterwards, entered Italy with his army, and
this gave to scores of prelates an opportunity for openly declaring
rebellion against the Pope who would not tolerate their scandalous
lives.
Then did Gregory, in whose hands
were placed those keys which signify the power of loosing and binding
in Heaven and on Earth, pronounce against Henry the terrible sentence
which declared him to be deprived of his crown and to have forfeited
the allegiance of his subjects. To this the Pontiff added the still
heavier anathema: he declared him to be cut off from the communion of
the Church. By thus setting himself as a rampart of defence to
Christendom which was threatened on all sides with tyranny and
persecution, Gregory drew down upon himself the vengeance of every
wicked passion, and even Italy was far from being as loyal to him as
he had a right to expect her to be. More than one of the princes of
the Peninsula sided with Henry, and as to the simoniacal prelates,
they looked on him as their defender against the sword of Peter. It
seemed as though Gregory would soon not have a spot in Italy on which
he could set his foot in safety, but God who never abandons His
Church raised up an avenger of his cause. Tuscany, and part of
Lombardy, were at that time governed by the young and brave countess
Matilda. This noble-hearted woman stood up in defence of the Vicar of
Christ. She offered her wealth and her army to the Holy See that it
might make use of them as it thought best, as long as she lived. And
as to her possessions, she willed them to Saint Peter and his
successors.
Matilda, then, became a check to
the emperor’s prosperity
in crime. Her influence in Italy was still strong enough to procure a
refuge for the heroic Pontiff where he could be safe from the
emperor’s power. He was
enabled by her management to reach Canossa, a strong fortress near
Reggio. At the same time Henry was alarmed by news of a fresh revolt
in Saxony in which more than one feudal lord of the Empire took part
with a view to dethrone the haughty and excommunicated tyrant. Fear
again took possession of his mind and prompted him to recur to
perjury. The spiritual power marred his sacrilegious plans and he
flattered himself that, by offering a temporary atonement, he could
soon renew the attack. He went barefooted and unattended to Canossa,
garbed as a penitent, shedding hypocrite tears and suing for pardon.
Gregory had compassion on his enemy and readily yielded to the
intercession made for him by Hugh of Cluny and Matilda. He took off
the excommunication and restored Henry to the pale of holy Church but
thought it would be premature to revoke the sentence by which he had
deprived him of his rights as emperor. The Pontiff contented himself
with announcing his intention of assisting at the Diet which was to
be held in Germany. There he would take cognizance of the grievances
brought against Henry by the princes of the Empire, and then decide
what was just.
Henry accepted every condition,
took his oath on the Gospel, and returned to his army. He felt his
hopes rekindle within him at every step he took from that dreaded
fortress within whose walls he had been compelled to sacrifice his
pride to his ambition. He reckoned on finding support from the bad
passions of others and, to a certain extent, his calculation was
verified. Such a man was sure to come to a miserable end, but Satan
was too deeply interested in his success, to refuse him his support.
Meanwhile, Henry met with a rival
in Germany. It was Rodolph, duke of Swabia who, in a Diet of the
Electors of the Empire, was proclaimed Henry’s
successor. Faithful to his principles of justice, Gregory refused at
first to recognise the newly elected, although his devotedness to the
Church and his personal qualifications were such as to make him most
worthy of the throne. The Pontiff persisted on hearing both sides,
that is, the Princes and representatives of the Empire, and Henry
himself. This done, he would put an end to the dispute by an
equitable judgement. Rodolph strongly urged his claims and importuned
the Pontiff to recognise them, but Gregory, though he loved the Duke,
courageously refused his demand, assuring him that his cause should
be tried at the Diet which Henry had bound himself, by his oath at
Canossa, to stand by, though he had good reasons to fear its results.
Three years passed on during which the Pontiff’s
patience and forbearance were continually and severely tried by
Henry’s systematic
subterfuge and refusal to give guarantees against his further
molesting the Church. At length, after using every means in his power
to put an end to the wars that ravaged Italy and Germany, and after
Henry had given unmistakeable proofs that he was impenitent and a
perjurer, the Pontiff renewed the excommunication and, in a Council
held at Rome, confirmed the sentence by which he had declared him
deposed of his crown. At the same time Gregory ratified Rodolph’s
election and granted the Apostolic benediction to his adherents.
Henry’s
rage was at its height, and his vengeance threw off all restraint.
Among the Italian prelates who had sided with the tyrant, the
foremost in subservience and ambition was Guibert, Archbishop of
Ravenna and, of course, there was no bitterer enemy to the Holy See.
Henry made an Anti-pope of this traitor under the name of Clement
III. He had his party and thus schism was added to the other trials
that afflicted the Church. It was one of those terrible periods when,
according to the expression of the Apocalypse, it was given to the
Beast to make war with the Saints, and to overcome them (Apocalypse
viii. 7). The emperor suddenly became victorious: Rodolph was slain
fighting in Germany and Matilda’s
army was defeated in Italy. Henry had then but one wish and he
determined to realise it: enter Rome, banish Gregory, and set his
Anti-pope on the Chair of Saint Peter.
What were the feelings of our
Saint in the midst of this deluge of iniquity from which, however,
the Church was to rise purified and free? Let us listen to him
describing them in a letter written to his former Abbot, Saint Hugh
of Cluny:
“The troubles which have come
upon us are such, that even they that are living with us, not only
cannot endure them, but cannot even bear to look at them. The holy
king David said: According to the multitude of my sorrows in my
heart, your consolations have given joy to my soul (Psalm xciii. 19),
whereas to us, life is often a burden to us, and death a happiness
that we sigh for. When Jesus, that loving Consoler, true God and true
Man, deigns to stretch out His hand to me, His goodness brings back
joy to my afflicted heart. But when He leaves me, immediately my
trouble is extreme. Of myself, I am for ever dying. But insofar as He
is with me, there are times when I live. When my strength wholly
leaves me, I cry out to Him, saying with a mournful voice: If you had
put a burden as heavy as this on Moses or Peter, they would,
methinks, have sunk beneath it. What, then, can be expected of me
who, compared to them, am nothing? You have then, O Lord, but one
thing to do: you youryself, with your Apostle Peter, must govern the
Pontificate you have imposed on me, else you will find me sink
beneath the load and the Pontificate in my person be disgraced.”
These words of heartfelt grief
depict the whole character of the sainted Pontiff. The one great
object of his life was the reformation of society by the liberty of
the Church. It was nothing but his zeal in such a cause that could
have made him face this terrible situation from which he had nothing
to look for in this life but heart-rending vexations. And yet,
Gregory was that Father of the Christian world who, from the very
commencement of his Pontificate, was full of the thought of driving
the Mahometans out of Europe, and of delivering the Christians from
the yoke of the Saracens. It was the inspiration taken up by his
successors, and carried out under the name of the Crusades. In a
Letter addressed to all the Faithful, our Saint thus speaks of the
enemy of the Christian name whom he describes as being at the very
gates of Constantinople, committing every kind of outrage and
cruelty:
“If we love God, if we call
ourselves Christians, we must grieve over such evils. But we should
do more than grieve over them. Our Saviour’s
example and the duty of fraternal charity impose upon us the
obligation of giving our lives for the deliverance of our
fellow-Christians. Know, then, that trusting in the mercy of God and
in the might of His arm, we are doing and preparing everything in our
power in order to give immediate help to the Christian Empire.” He
shortly afterwards wrote to Henry who, at that time, had not shown
his hostile intentions against the Church. “My admonition to the
Christians of Italy and the countries beyond the Alps has been
favourably received. At this moment fifty thousand men are preparing
and, if they can have me to head the expedition as leader and
Pontiff, they are willing to march to battle against the enemies of
God and, with the " divine assistance, to go even to our Lord’s
sepulchre.” Thus, despite his advanced age, the noble-minded
Pontiff was willing to put himself at the head of the Christian army.
“There is,” says he, “one thing which urges me to do this: it
is the state of the Church of Constantinople, which is separated from
us in what regards the dogma of the Holy Ghost and which must be
brought back to union with the Apostolic See. Almost the whole of
Armenia has abandoned the Catholic Faith. In a word, the greater
portion of the Orientals require to know what is the faith of Peter
on the various questions which are being mooted among them. The time
is come for using the grace bestowed by our merciful Redeemer on
Peter when he thus spoke to him: I have prayed for you, Peter, that
your faith may not fail: do thou confirm your brethren (Luke xxii.
32). Our Fathers in whose footsteps we would walk, though " we
be unworthy to be their successors, have more than once visited those
countries that they might confirm the Catholic Faith. We, then, also
feel urged, if Christ open to us a way, to undertake this expedition
for the interests of the Faith, and in order to give aid to the
Christians.”
With his characteristic good
faith, Gregory went so far as to reckon on Henry’s
protecting the Church during his absence. “This design,” says he
in the same letter to the emperor, “requires much counsel and
powerful co-operation in case God permits us to attempt it: I
therefore come to you asking you for this counsel and co-operation,
and hope you will grant me them. If, by divine favour, I go, it is to
you, after God, that I leave the Roman Church, that you may watch
over her as a holy mother and protect her from insult. Let me know as
soon as may be what, in your prudence, aided by God’s
counsel, you decide on. If I had not greater confidence in you than
people suppose, I should not have written this to you. But as it may
happen that you may not fully believe I have the affection for you
that I profess, I appeal to the Holy Spirit who can do all things, I
beseech Him to make you understand, in His own way, how attached I am
to you, and that He may so guide your soul as to disappoint the
desires of the wicked and strengthen the hopes of the good.”
The interview at Canossa took
place in less than three years from the date of the above letter, but
at the time he wrote it Gregory’s
hopes for carrying out the expedition were so well grounded that he
acquainted the Countess Matilda with his intention. He wrote to her
as follows:
“The matter which engrosses my
thoughts, and the desire I have to cross the seas in order to give
succour to the Christians who are being slain as brute beasts by the
pagans, makes me seem strange to many people and I fear they think me
guilty of a sort of levity. But it costs me nothing to confide it to
you, my dearly beloved daughter, whose prudence I esteem more than
words could express. After you have perused the letters which I am
sending to the countries beyond the Alps, if you have any advice to
offer or, what is better, any aid to give to the cause of God your
Creator, exert yourself to the utmost: for if, as men say, it be a
grand thing to die for one’s
country, it is grander and nobler to sacrifice this mortal flesh of
ours for Christ who is Eternal Life. I feel convinced that many
soldiers will aid us in this expedition. I have grounds for believing
that our Empress (Agnes, the saintly mother of Henry) intends going
with us, and would fain take you with her. Your mother (the Countess
Beatrice) will remain here in Italy to protect our common interests,
and all things thus arranged, we will, with Christ’s
help, be enabled to set out. By coming here to satisfy her devotion,
the Empress, especially if she have you to help her, will doubtless
encourage many to join in this enterprise. As for me, honoured with
the company of such noble sisters, I will willingly cross the seas,
ready to lay down my life for Christ with you from whom I would not
be separated in our eternal country. Send me a speedy answer upon
this project, as also regarding your coming to Rome. And may the
Almighty God bless you and give you to advance from virtue to virtue,
that thus the common Mother may rejoice in you for many long years to
come!”
The project on which Gregory set
his heart with so much earnestness was not a mere scheme suggested by
his own greatness of soul. It was a presentiment infused into his
mind by God. The troubles he had nearer home and which he so
heroically combated left him no time for a long expedition. He had to
engage with an enemy who was not a Turk, but a Christian. Still, the
Crusade so dear to his heart was not far off. Urban II, his second
successor, and like himself a monk of Cluny, was soon to arouse
Christian Europe and give battle to the infidels. But as this subject
has led us to mention Matilda’s
name, we take the opportunity thus afforded us of entering more fully
into the character of our great Pontiff. We will find that this
illustrious champion of the Church’s
liberty, with all his elevation of purpose and all his untiring zeal
in what concerned the interests of Christendom, was as solicitous
about the spiritual advancement of a single soul as any director
could be. Writing to the Countess Matilda he says: “He who fathoms
the secrets of the human heart, he alone knows, and knows better than
I do myself, how interested I am in what concerns your salvation. I
think you understand that I feel myself bound to take care of you for
the sake of so many people in whose interest I have been compelled,
by charity, to deter you when you were thinking of leaving them in
order to provide for the salvation of your own soul. As I have often
told you, and will keep on telling you, in the words of Heaven’s
herald, charity seeks not her own (1 Corinthians xiii. 5). But as the
principal armour with which I have provided you in your battle
against the prince of this world is the frequent receiving of our
Lord’s body and a firm
confidence in the protection of His Blessed Mother, I will now add
what Saint Ambrose says on the subject of Holy Communion.”
The Pontiff then gives her two
quotations from the writings of this Holy Father, to which he also
adds others from Saint Gregory the Great and Saint John Chrysostom on
the blessings we derive from receiving the Sacrament of the
Eucharist. He then continues: “Therefore, my daughter, we should
have recourse to this greatest of the Sacraments, this greatest of
all remedies. I have written all this to you, beloved daughter of
Blessed Peter, with a view to increase your faith and confidence when
you approach to Communion. This is the treasure, and this is the
gift, more precious than gold and gems, which your soul, out of love
for the King of Heaven, your Father, expects from me, although you
would have received the same in a far better way and one more worthy
of your acceptance, had you applied to some other of God’s
ministers. With regard to the Mother of God to whose care I have
confided you for the past, the present and the future until we are
permitted to see her in Heaven as we desire, what can I say? How can
I say anything worthy of Her whom Heaven and Earth are ever praising,
and yet never so much as she deserves? Yes, hold this as a most
certain truth: that as she is grander and better and holier than all
mothers, so is she more merciful and loving to all sinners who are
sorry for their sins. Be, then, determined never to commit sin.
Prostrate yourself and weep before her with a contrite and humble
heart, and I unhesitatingly promise you this: you will find her more
ready to assist you, and more affectionate, than any mother on Earth
ever was to her child.”
A Pontiff like this who, amid
all his occupations, could devote himself with such paternal zeal to
the advancement of one single soul, was sure to be on the watch for
men whose piety and learning promised well for the interests of the
Church. It is true, there were very few such men, in those times, but
Gregory would find them out wherever they might be. The great Saint
Anselm who was living in the peaceful retirement of his Monastery at
Bec had not escaped the watchful eye of the Pontiff who wrote him
these touching words amid the troubles of the year 1079: “The good
odour of your fruits has spread even to us. We give thanks to God,
and we embrace you with affection in the love of Christ, for we are
well assured of the benefits which the Church of God will derive from
your studies, and of the succour which through God’s
mercy, she will receive from your prayers, united as they are with
those who are of a like spirit. You know, my brother, of how much
avail with God is the prayer of one just man. How much more, then,
must not avail the prayer of many just ones? No, we cannot doubt it.
It obtains what it asks. The authority of Truth Himself obliges us to
believe it. It is He who said: Knock, and it will be opened to you!
Knock with simplicity of heart. Ask with simplicity of heart for
those things which are pleasing to Him. Then will it be opened to
you, then will you receive. And it is thus that the prayer of the
just is graciously heard. We therefore beg of you, brother, of you
and your monks, that you beseech God in assiduous prayer that He may
vouchsafe to deliver, from the tyranny of heretics, His Church and us
who, though unworthy, are placed over it. And that, dispelling the
error which blinds our enemies, He may lead them back to the path of
truth.”
But Gregory’s
attention was not confined to persons of such eminence and learning
as a Matilda or an Anselm. His quick eye discerned every Christian,
however humble his station, who had suffered persecution for the
cause of holy Church. He honoured and loved him far more than he
would the bravest soldier who fought for earthly glory and got it at
the risk of his life. Let us read the following letter which he wrote
to a poor priest of Milan named Liprand, who had been cruelly maimed
by the Simoniacs:
“If we venerate the memory of
those Saints who died after their limbs had been severed by the
sword. If we celebrate the sufferings of those whom neither the sword
nor torture could separate from the Faith of Christ: you, who have
had your nose and ears cut off for his Name, you deserve still
greater praise, for that you have merited a grace which, if it be
accompanied by your perseverance, gives you a perfect resemblance to
the Saints. Your body is no longer perfect in all its parts, but the
interior man who is renewed from day to day is now grander than ever.
Your outward face is maimed, and therefore disfigured. But the image
of God which consists in the brightness of virtue has become more
graceful by your wounds, and its beauty heightened by the deformity
which men have brought on your features. Does not the Church,
speaking of herself, say: I am black, ye daughters of Jerusalem?
(Canticles i. 4). If, then, your interior beauty has not been
impaired by these cruel mutilations, neither has your priestly
character which manifests itself rather by the perfection of virtue
than by that of the body. Did not the Emperor Constantine show his
veneration for a bishop who had had one of his eyes pulled out? Was
he not seen to kiss the wound? Have we not the examples of the
Fathers and the early history of the Church telling us that the
martyrs were allowed to continue the exercise of the sacred ministry
even after their limbs had been mutilated? You then, Martyr of
Christ, must confide in the Lord without reserve. You must
congratulate yourself on having made an advance in your priesthood.
It was conferred on you by the holy oil, but now you have sealed it
with your own blood. The more your body has lost, the more must you
preach what is good, and sow that Word which produces a hundredfold.
We know that the enemies of holy Church are your enemies and
persecutors. Fear them not and tremble not in their presence, for we
lovingly hold both yourself and everything that belongs to you under
our own protection and that of the Apostolic See. And if you should
at any time find it necessary to have recourse to us, we now at once
admit your appeal and will receive you with joy and every mark of
honour when you visit us and this Holy See.”
Such was Gregory, keeping up the
simplicity of the monk amid all his occupations as Pope. And what
engrossing occupations were not these, even forgetting that fearful
contest with tyranny and crime which cost him his life! We have
already mentioned his project of the Crusade which, at a later
period, was enough to immortalise the name of Urban II. As to his
other labours for the good of religion in every part of Christendom,
we may truly say that at no period of the Church’s
existence did the Papacy exercise a wider, more active, or more
telling influence, than during the twelve years of his Pontificate.
By his immense correspondence he furthered the interests of the
Church in Germany, Italy, France, England and Spain. He aided the
rising Churches of Denmark, Sweden and Norway. He testified his
vigilant and tender solicitude for the welfare of Hungary, Bohemia,
Poland, Serbia, even for Russia. Despite the rupture between Rome and
Byzantium, the Pontiff withheld not his paternal intervention with a
view to remove the schism which kept the Greek Church out of the
centre of unity. On the coast of Africa, he, by great vigilance,
succeeded in maintaining three bishoprics which had survived the
Mussulman invasion. In order to knit the Latin Church into closer
unity by greater uniformity in prayer, he abolished the Gothic
Liturgy that was used in Spain and forbade the introduction of the
Greek Liturgy into Bohemia. What work was not all this for one man!
And what a martyrdom he had to go through!
Let us resume our history of his
trials. The Church and society were to be saved by him but, like his
Divine Master, he had to drink of the torrent in the way (Psalm cix.
7) as the condition of his mission being a successful one. We have
seen how his defenders were defeated in battle, how he was menaced by
the conqueror who had once stood trembling in his presence, and how
there was set up in opposition an Anti-pope whose side was taken by
unworthy prelates. Henry marched on towards Rome, taking with him the
false vicar of Christ. He set fire to that part of the city which
would expose the Vatican to danger. Gregory sent his blessing to his
terrified people and, immediately, the fire took the contrary
direction and died out. Enthusiasm was for a while the feeling of the
Romans who have so often been ungrateful to their Pontiff without
whom, their Rome, with all its glory, sinks into a poor contemptible
town. Henry was afraid to consummate his sacrilege. He therefore sent
word to the Romans that he only asked one condition: it was that they
should induce Gregory to consecrate him emperor of Germany, and that
he would forever be a devoted son of the Church : as to the ignoble
phantom he had set up in opposition to the true Pope, he (Henry)
would see to his being soon forgotten. This petition was presented to
Gregory by the whole city. The Pontiff made them this reply: “Too
well do I know the king’s
treachery. Let him first make atonement to God and to the Church
which he tramples beneath his feet. Then will I absolve him, if
penitent, and crown the convert with the imperial diadem.”
The Romans were earnest in their
entreaties but this was the only answer they could elicit from the
inflexible guardian of Christian justice. Henry was about to withdraw
his troops when the fickle Romans, being bribed by money from
Byzantium (for, then, as ever, all schisms were in fellowship against
the Papacy) abandoned their king and Father, and delivered up the
keys of the city to him who enslaved their souls. Gregory was thus
obliged to seek refuge in the Castle of Sant’Angelo,
taking with him, into that fortress-prison, the liberty of holy
Church. Thence, or perhaps a few days previously to his retiring
there, he wrote this admirable letter in the year 1084. It is
addressed to all the faithful, and may be considered as the last Will
and Testament of this glorious Pontiff:
“The kings of the Earth and the
princes of the priests have met together against Christ (Psalm ii. 2)
the Son of the Almighty God and against His Apostle Peter, to the end
that they may destroy the Christian religion and propagate the
wickedness of heresy in every land. But, by the mercy of God, they
have not been able with all their threats, and cruelties, and
proffers of worldly glory, to seduce those that put their confidence
in the Lord. Wicked conspirators have raised up their hands against
us for no other reason than because we would not pass over in silence
the perils of holy Church, nor tolerate them that blush not to make a
slave of the very Spouse of God. In every country the poorest woman
is allowed, yes, she is assisted by the law of the land, to choose
her own husband. And yet, nowadays, holy Church, the Spouse of God
and our Mother, is not allowed to be united to her Spouse as the
Divine Law commands, and as she herself wishes. It cannot be that we
should suffer the children of this Church to be slaves to heretics,
adulterers and tyrants as though these were their parents. Hence we
have had to endure all manner of evil treatment, perils and
unheard-of cruelties, as you will learn from our Legates.
You know, Brethren, that it was
said to the Prophet : Cry from the top of the mountain, cry, cease
not! I, then — urged irresistibly, laying human respect aside and
raising my mind above every earthly consideration — I preach the
Gospel, I cry out, yes, I cry out unceasingly, and I make known to
you, that the Christian religion, the true Faith which the Son of
God, who came down on the Earth, has taught us by our Fathers, is in
danger of being corrupted by the violence of secular power: that it
is on the way to destruction and to the loss of its primitive
character being thus exposed to be scoffed at, not only by Satan, but
by Jews, and Turks, and pagans. The very pagans are observers of
their laws, though these cannot profit the soul’s
salvation, neither have they been guaranteed by miracles as ours have
been, to which our Eternal King has borne testimony. They keep their
laws and believe them. We Christians, intoxicated with the love of
the world and led astray by vain ambition, we make every principle of
religion and justice give way to covetousness and pride. We seem as
though we had neither law nor sense, for we have not the earnestness
our Fathers had for our salvation, and for the glory of both the
present and future life. We do not even make them the object of our
hopes. If there be some still left who fear God, they only care for
their own salvation, and the common good seems not to concern them.
Where do we now find persons who labour and toil, or expose their
lives, by fatigue, out of the motive of the fear or love of the
Omnipotent God? whereas we see soldiers of this world’s
armies braving all manner of dangers for their masters, their
friends, and even their subjects!
There are thousands of men to be
found who face death for the sake of their liege lord, but when the
King of heaven, our Redeemer, is in question, so far from being
lavish of their lives, Christians dare not even incur the displeasure
of a few scoffers. If there be some, (and, thanks to the mercy of
God, there are still a few such, left among us) — if, we repeat,
there be some who for the love of the Christian law dare to resist
the wicked to their face, not only are they unsupported by their
brethren, but they are accused of imprudence and indiscretion, and
are treated as fools. We, therefore, who are bound by our position to
destroy vice and implant virtue in the hearts of our brethren, we
pray and beseech you, in the Lord Jesus who redeemed us, that you
would consider within yourselves and understand why it is that we
have to suffer such anguish and tribulation from the enemies of the
Christian religion. From the day when, by the Divine will, the
Mother-Church, despite my great unworthiness and (as God is my
witness) despite my own wish, placed me on the Apostolic throne —
the one object of all my labours has been that the Spouse of God, our
Mistress and Mother, should recover her just rights in order that she
may be free, chaste and Catholic. But such a line of conduct must
have caused extreme displeasure to the old enemy, and therefore it is
that he has marshalled against us them that are his members, and has
stirred up against us a world-wide opposition. Hence it is that there
have been used against us, and against the Apostolic See, efforts of
a more violent character than any that have ever been attempted since
the days of Constantine the Great. But there is nothing surprising
in all this: it is but natural, that the nearer we approach to the
time of Antichrist, the more furious will be the attempts to
annihilate the Christian religion.”
These words vividly describe to
us the holy indignation and grief of the great Pontiff who, at this
terrible crisis, stood almost alone against the enemies of God. He
was weighed down, he was crushed, by adversity. But conquered, no!
From the fortress within whose walls he had withdrawn the majesty of
the Vicar of Christ, he could hear the impious cheers of his people
as they followed Henry to the Vatican Basilica where, at Saint
Peter’s Confession, the
mock pope was awaiting his arrival. It was the Palm Sunday of 1085.
The sacrilege was committed. On the previous day Guibert had dared to
ascend the Papal throne in the Basilica of Saint John Lateran. And on
the Sunday, while the people held in their hands the Palms that
glorify the Christ whose Vicar was Gregory, the Anti-pope took the
crown of the Christian Empire and put it on the head of the
excommunicated Henry. But God was preparing an avenger of His Church.
The Pontiff was kept a close prisoner in the fort and it seemed as
though his enemy would soon make him a victim of his rage when the
report suddenly spread through Rome that Bobert Guiscard, the valiant
Norman chieftain, was marching on towards the city. He had come to
fight for the captive Pontiff and deliver Rome from the tyranny of
the Germans. The false Caesar and his false Pope were panic-stricken.
They fled, leaving the perjured city to expiate its odious treason in
the horrors of a ruthless pillage.
Gregory’s
heart bled at seeing his people thus treated. It was not in his power
to prevent the depredations of the barbarian troops. They had done
their work of delivering him from his enemies, but they were not
satisfied. They had come to Rome to chastise her, but now they wanted
booty, and they were determined to have it. Not only was the Saint
powerless to repress these marauders. He was in danger of again
falling into Henry’s
hands, who was meditating a return to Rome, for he made sure that the
people’s angry humour
would secure him a welcome back, and that the Normans would withdraw
from the city as soon as it had no more to give them. Gregory,
therefore, overwhelmed with grief, left the capital and, shaking off
the dust from his feet, he repaired to Monte Cassino where he sought
shelter and a few hours of repose with the sons of the great
Patriarch Saint Benedict. The contrast of the peaceful years he spent
when a young monk at Cluny, with the storms that had so thickly beset
his Pontificate, was sure to present itself to his mind. A wanderer
and fugitive, and abandoned by all save a few faithful and devoted
souls, he was passing through the several stations of his Passion,
but his Calvary was not far off, and God was soon to admit him into
rest eternal. Before descending the holy mount, he was honoured with
the miraculous manifestation which had been witnessed on several
previous occasions. Gregory was at the altar offering up the Holy
Sacrifice when suddenly a white dove was seen resting on his shoulder
with its beak turned towards his ear, as though it were speaking to
him. It was not difficult to recognise, under this expressive symbol,
the guidance which the saintly Pontiff received from the Holy Ghost.
It was the early part of the year
1085. Gregory repaired to Salerno where his troubles and life were to
be brought to a close. His bodily strength was gradually failing. He
insisted, however, on going through the ceremony of the dedication of
the Church of Saint Matthew the Evangelist, whose body was kept at
Salerno. He addressed a few words in a feeble voice to the assembled
people. He then received the Body and Blood of Christ. Fortified with
this life-giving Viaticum, he returned to the house where he was
staying and threw himself upon the couch, from which he was never to
rise again. There he lay, like Jesus on His Cross, robbed of
everything and abandoned by almost the whole world. His last thoughts
were for Holy Church. He mentioned to the few Cardinals and Bishops
who were with him, three from whom he would recommend his successor
to be chosen: Desiderius, Abbot of Monte Cassino who succeeded him
under the title of Victor III, Otho of Chatillon, a monk of Cluny who
was afterwards Urban II, Victor’s
successor, and the faithful Legate Hugh of Die whom Gregory had made
Archbishop of Lyons.
The by-standers asked the dying
Pontiff what were his wishes regarding those whom he had
excommunicated. Here again, he imitated our Saviour on His Cross. He
exercised both mercy and justice: “Excepting,” said he, “Henry,
and Guibert the usurper of the Apostolic See, and them that connive
at their injustice and impiety, I absolve and bless all those who
have faith in my power as being that of the holy Apostles Peter and
Paul.” The thought of the pious and heroic Matilda coming to his
mind, he entrusted this devoted daughter of the Roman Church to the
care of the courageous Anselm of Lucca, thereby imitating (as the
biographer of this holy Bishop remarks) our dying Jesus who consigned
Mary to His Beloved Disciple John. Gregory’s
last blessing to Matilda drew down upon her thirty years of success
and victory.
Though so near his end, yet was
Gregory as full of paternal solicitude for the Church as ever he had
been. Calling to him, one by one, the faithful few who stood round
his couch, he made them promise on oath that they would never
acknowledge Henry as emperor until he had made satisfaction to the
Church. Summing up all his energy, he solemnly forbade them to
recognise anyone as Pope unless he were elected canonically and in
accordance with the rules laid down by the holy Fathers. Then, after
a moment of devout recollectedness, he expressed his conformity to
the Divine Will (which had ordained that his Pontificate should be
one long martyrdom) and said: “I have loved justice and hated
iniquity: for which cause, I die in exile!” One of the bishops who
were present respectfully made him this reply: “No, my Lord, you
cannot die in exile, for, holding the place of Christ and the holy
Apostles, you have had given to you the nations for your inheritance,
and the utmost parts of the Earth for your possession.” Sublime
words, but Gregory heard them not: his soul had winged its flight to
Heaven, and had received a martyr’s
immortal crown.
So that Gregory was conquered by
death, as Christ Himself had been, but as the Master triumphed over
death, so too would he have his disciple triumph. Christianity, which
had been insulted in so many forms, rose again in all its grandeur.
Nay, on the very day that Gregory breathed his last at Salerno,
Heaven seemed to give a pledge of this resurrection for on that day —
the 25th of May 1085 — Alphonsus VI entered with his victorious
troops into the city of Toledo and there, after four centuries of
slavery under the Saracen yoke, he replanted the Cross of Christ. But
the Church had need of some one who would take Gregory’s
place in defending her against oppression. The need was supplied. The
martyrdom of our Saint was like a seed that produced Pontiffs imbued
with his spirit. As he had prepared his own predecessors, he also
prepared worthy successors. There are few names on the list of the
Popes more glorious than those that begin with Victor III (Gregory’s
immediate successor), and continue to Boniface VIII inclusively, in
whom was recommenced the struggle for which our great Pontiff so
heroically lived and died. Scarcely had death put an end to his
trials in this valley of tears than victory came to the Church, for
her enemies were defeated, her sacred law of celibacy was everywhere
re-enforced, and the canonical election of her bishops was secured by
the suppression of investitures and simony.
Gregory had been the instrument
used by God for the reformation of the Christian world, and although
his memory be held in benediction by all true children of the Church,
yet his mission was too grand and too grandly fulfilled not to draw
down upon him the hatred of Satan. The Prince of this world (John,
xii. 31) hen took his revenge. Gregory was, of course, detested by
heretics, but that could scarcely be called an insult: he must be
rendered odious to Catholics. Catholics must be made ashamed of him.
The devil succeeded and, it may be, beyond his expectations. The
Church had passed her judgement, but her judgement, her canonisation,
had no weight with these cowardly, temporising, half Catholics, and
they persisted in calling the Saint simply and reproachfully,
“Gregory the Seventh.” Governments styling themselves Catholic
forbade his being honoured as a Saint. There were even bishops who
issued Pastorals to the same effect. The most eloquent of French
preachers declared his Pontificate and conduct to be un-Christian.
There was a time, and that not so
very long ago, when these lines would have exposed the writer to a
heavy penalty as being contrary to the law of the land. The Lessons
of today’s feast were
suppressed by the Parliament of Paris in 1729, and those who dared to
recite them were to be punished by the forfeiture of their property.
Thank God all this is now passed and the name of Saint Gregory VII is
honoured in every country where the Roman Liturgy is in use. Yes,
this glorious name will remain now to the end of the world on the
universal Calendar of holy Church as one of the brightest glories of
Paschal Time. May it produce the same enthusiastic admiration, and
bring the same blessings, upon the faithful of these our times as it
did on our Catholic forefathers of the Middle Ages!
* * * * *
Our Paschal joy is
increased by your triumph, Gregory, for in you we recognise an image
of Him who, by the announcement of His glorious Resurrection, raised
the world from its fallen state. Divine Providence had prepared your
Pontificate and made it an era of regeneration for society which was
then oppressed by the tyranny of barbarism. Your courage was founded
on confidence in Jesus’
word and nothing could daunt you. Your reign on the Apostolic See was
one long combat, and because you hated iniquity and loved justice,
you had to die an exile. But in you was fulfilled the prophecy which
had been spoken of your Divine Master: “If he will lay down his
life for sin, he will see a long-lived seed” (Isaias liii. 10), A
glorious succession of six and thirty Popes continued the work which
thy heroism had begun: the Church had regained her liberty, and Might
was made subservient to Right. It was a period of triumph. It passed.
War was again declared, and has never since ceased. Kings and
emperors and governments have rebelled against the Spiritual Power.
They have thrown off obedience to the Vicar of Christ. They have
refused to ackmowledge the control of any authority on Earth. The
people, on their part, have revolted against their governments, that
is, against a power which has ceased to have any visible and sacred
connection with God. And this two-fold revolt is now hurrying society
on to destruction.
This world belongs
to Christ, for He is the King of kings, and Lord of lords (1 Timothy
vi. 15) and to Him has been given all power in Heaven and on Earth
(Matthew xxviii. 18). It matters not who they may be that rebel
against Him. Be they kings or be they people, they must inevitably be
chastised, just as were the Jewish people who said in their pride:
“We will not have this man to reign over us!” (Luke xix. 14).
Pray, O Gregory, for this world which you rescued from barbarism, and
which is now striving to relapse into degradation. The men of this
generation are ever talking of Liberty. It is in the name of this
pretended Liberty that they have un-Christianised society, and the
only means now left for maintaining order is outward violence and
force. You triumphed over brute force by making the laws of Right
acknowledged and loved. You gave the world what it had lost — the
Liberty of the sons of God, the Liberty of doing one’s
duty — and it lasted for ages. Come, noble-hearted Pontiff, aid
this Europe of ours a second time. Beseech our Lord Jesus Christ to
forgive the wickedness of them that have driven Him from the world
and scoff at His threat of returning on the day of His triumph and
His justice. Yes, pray Him to have mercy on the thousands among us
who call themselves Christians — and perhaps are so, yet who are
led astray by the absurd sophistry of the times, by blind prejudice,
by a godless education, by high-sounding and vague words, and who
call by the name of progress the system of keeping men as far as
possible from the End for which God created them.
From the abode of
peace where you are now resting after your labours, look with an eye
of affectionate pity on Holy Church whose path is beset by countless
difficulties. Everything conspires against her: remnants of by-gone
laws that were made in times of persecution, the frenzy of pride
which chafes at everything that favours subordination of rank or
authority, and the determination to secularise society by scouting
every element of the supernatural. In the midst of this storm of
irreligion, the Rock on which you, O Gregory, once held the place of
Peter, is furiously beaten by the waves of persecution. Pray for our
Holy Father, the Vicar of Christ. Pray that the threatening scourge
may be turned from Rome. The followers of Satan, as Saint John
prophesies in the Apocalypse, are come upon the breadth of the Earth
and have encompassed the camp of the Saints and the beloved City
(Apocalypse xx. 8). This Holy City was your Spouse when you were
Pontiff here on Earth. Watch over her now. Disconcert the plots that
are laid for her ruin. Rouse the zeal of the children of the Church
that, by their courage and generous offerings, they may labour for
the noblest cause on Earth.
Pray, too, for the
Episcopal Order of which the Apostolic See is the source. The
Anointed of the Lord have never had greater need of your intercession
than now when they have to contend with a world that has openly
divorced itself from the laws of God and His Church. May they be
endued with strength from on high, courageous in the confession of
Truth and zealous in warning the faithful against the errors that are
now so rife against Faith and Morals. The power of the Church, in
these our days, is confined to the sanctuary of the souls of her
devoted children. External support is everywhere denied her. The Holy
Ghost whose mission is to maintain the Church of Christ will indeed
assist her even to the consummation of the world, but He does His
work by instruments, and these must be men who are detached from the
world, men who are not afraid to be unpopular, and men who are
resolved, at every risk, to proclaim the teachings of the Sovereign
Pontiff. Great, by the mercy of God, is now the number of Pastors of
the Church who are all that He would have them be, who is the Prince
of Pastors (Peter v. 4) as Saint Peter calls him. Pray for all that
all may, like you love justice and hate iniquity, love truth and hate
error, and fear neither exile, nor persecution, nor death: for the
disciple is not above the Master!
