Catholic Thought discussion

Summary

Chapter 1:
The Benincasa household, Catherine’s childhood, her relationship with her mother, her first mystical experience that initiated her calling, and the growing devotion to commit wholeheartedly to Christ.

Chapter 2:
When Catherine approached marrying age and her parents tried to prepare her for marriage, Catherine rebelled, even cutting her hair off. In retribution, her parents made her a servant in the household and limited her to share a bedroom with her brother. All of this Catherine gladly accepted. She would later discover in this the cell of one’s inner being from which one’s spirituality is nurtured.

Chapter 3:
In time Catherine made her parents aware she would never consent to marriage, and through a family member who was a priest informed them that she had made a vow to Christ to remain a virgin. She made them aware that she wished to join the Mantellate, a third order Dominican group composed of widows. It was her father who was convinced first of Catherine’s calling and consented and arranged for her to join the lay order. He allowed her to have her own bedroom which became her private cell.

Chapter 4:
She spent three years in that private cell, praying and disciplining herself, only to go out to daily Mass. It was in her cell that she had regular visions of meeting Christ, and then for a while Christ disappeared only to have the visions replaced with satanic visions of hedonistic orgies. When the Lord finally returned to her and the visions ended that she realized He was there all along. It was in this time in her cell that many of her insights into the faith came to fruition. Finally her third year ended with a vision of her spiritual betrothal to Christ.

Catherine's poor mother. I loved the image of her carrying her daughter into her bed out of fear that she would destroy her health. I have been around enough anorexia in my life to understand the anguish of the family as they watch a loved one engage in behavior that is life threatening. I also loved watching the mother beg for Catherine's acceptance into the order when she realized that her daughter's severe illness was a result of her thwarted desire. She might not have understood Catherine's spirituality or call, but her love for her daughter is so beautiful.

The vision Catherine had when she was six years old is monumental in her life. She is walking through Siena with her brother and another boy when suddenly she sees some metaphysical beings over a church.

The little girl looked over the valley—it is called Valle Piatta. And then she looked up, over the roof of the church. She saw a sight so wonderful that she could never have dreamed of anything like it: the Saviour of the world sitting on a royal throne, clothed in bishop’s robes, and with the triple crown of the Pope on His head. Beside Him stood the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul, and St. John the Evangelist. The child stood as though rooted to the spot. She stared enraptured at the vision “with eyes both of her body and her soul.” Our Lord smiled lovingly at her, lifted His hand and blessed the child with the sign of the cross, as a bishop does… (p. 11)

With Undset writing this in the 20th century (1940’s I believe) we sense in that paragraph that this was a defining moment in Catherine’s life. And surely it was, but Catherine must have related this experience to her biographer, Blessed of Raymond of Capua, where it was written down (Undset even quotes from it) and if you can step back from Undset’s semi-psychological reading of this experience and understand it from a more hagiographical perspective, you can see various elements of this that would define Catherine’s life. Christ dressed as the Pope, even wearing the Papal tiara, will be important to Catherine later in life as she understands the seriousness of the Pope, being the vicar of Christ, not being in Rome but in Avignon. Saints Peter and Paul were martyrs in Rome, and that established Rome as the center of the Catholic Church. St. John the Evangelist would become Catherine’s intellectual father in essence, where her theology would flow out his Gospel. While this is a defining experience, it is filled with hagiographic imagery that projects to Catherine’s greatest achievement.

I did not know Popes had crowns. According to Wikipedia, “From 1143 to 1963, the papal tiara was solemnly placed on the pope's head during a papal coronation. The surviving papal tiaras are all in the triple form, the oldest being of 1572.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Papal_t... But if you read the entire entry you see they go back way before that. It would also be interesting to know what a bishop’s dress was like back then. Popes wearing white that we see today was a tradition started by Pope Pius V who died a couple of hundred years after Catherine. So Popes must have worn a bishop’s vestments before that. I would imagine a bishop still dressed in red back then.

Irene and Manny, you both brought up elements of the book that also made me pause and think. Lapa's love for her daughter and wish to protect her is so understandable. (I, too, have been around anorexia.) Lapa also comes across to me as a strong woman, perhaps a force to be reckoned with when her wishes were disregarded. She had to be strong to oversee a household of that size.

Catherine's childhood vision made me realize how close to God she was from such a young age. Manny, thanks for your interpretation. I read the scene only from the mystical viewpoint. Miracle comes to mind when I think that the vision may have foreshadowed her future.

Undset is an excellent writer. Despite some presumptions on her part as to how so-and-so might have felt or thought at a certain moment, she presents a lovely portrait of the young Catherine. I came away from these four chapters with a better sense of this saint who I feel a need to understand. I found an intelligent, highly sensitive child, privy possibly to seeing or dealing with adult behavior at too early an age. Talk about presumptions! That's my personal guess. But there was little privacy in the 14th century. Catherine was part of a very large family. Young eyes see much.

Catherine's awareness of reality, coupled with her early stirrings of religious fervor, brought her into such a special relationship with Christ that it was obvious to all around her from her childhood. I was listening to Bishop Barron recently and he mentioned Catherine of Siena as one of the saints widely recognized in their own time. He likened her reputation as similar to the acclaim the world held for (St.) Mother Teresa during her lifetime. Their holiness was obvious even to the non-religious.

Back to the book, another passage that I marked was the one where Catherine told her confessor that she couldn't see herself or other people "except in God" - that only through God could see think or see. She used the simile of being underwater, and seeing things around her only through the prism of reflections in the water. I was struck both by her explanation and by the fact it came from an unlettered young woman.

Finally, other passages raise a question for me for those of you of a more philosophical bent. More than once, I detected a sense of dislike toward the physical self. For example, one of Catherine's long quotes was about her visions and how they lead toward Truth, and that through Truth a soul gains a better understanding of God and self. "This makes the soul honour Me [God] and despise itself and that is the meaning of humility." Was Gnosticism a force in the 14th century? If yes, it might also help account for Catherine's intense self-disciplines and a comment such as the quoted sentence.

One of the practices that is critical to Catherine spirituality was the building of a cell from which to communicate with God. She would later come to call this the “cell of self-knowledge.” We see the rudiments of this cell as a teenager as her parents isolate her for resisting marriage.

The Holy Spirit had taught her how to build herself an inner cell, a place of refuge where she could pray and think of her Beloved, and from this no one could recall her; here no one could come and disturb her. “The kingdom of God is within you”: now she understood the meaning of these words, spoken by Him who is truth itself. Within us—it is there that the gifts of the Holy Spirit are poured out upon us to perfect our natural talents, to break down internal and external obstacles. If we passionately desire the true good, the heavenly Guest comes and lives within us—He who has said “Be of good courage, I have conquered the world.” (p. 25)

Here the cell is a physical place, but eventually that cell would grow to within her. Future Dominican mystics, like Meister Eckhart would echo very similar concepts. I’m not sure if they took it from Catherine but it’s possible.

Irene and Gerri, I didn't even see your posts. Neither were registered as new comments and I never received email notifications. I hate it when Goodreads lets me down like that. Good points. I'll get back to you both. It's rather late right now.

Manny, GR has turned off its notifications for the past 5 or 6 days. The buzz on GR is that there has been a rash of spammed porn that they are trying to stop and that is why they turned it off. It is much more difficult to keep up with the threads without my email notifications.

Gerri, to the best of my knowledge, Gnosticism was not a particularly difficult threat during the 14th century. But there was a wide spread spiritual movement toward ascetical penetintial practices. Sin was the focus of much preaching. The suffering, crucified Christ was the focus, not the Resurrected or Glorified image of Christ. The physical passions were more generally associated with sin and temptation then what we might today think of as the psychological aspects of a person. There was an emphasis both on voluntarily sharing in the suffering of Christ by self-inflicted ascetical practices such as private scurging and sustained fasts. Images of hell and purgatory as places of extreme physical suffering were also popular. People were often encouraged to engage in personal discipline in order to minimize the pain of purgatory or avoid the pain of hell by suffering them now. This suffering also served as a reminder of what the person would expect after death if they did not subdue these passions that led to sin during their earthly life. I think that much of this spirituality came from the reality of the historical moment. The plague had ravaged so much of Europe. Disease, poverty, war, a harsh penal system, the lack of effective medical cures or a social safety net meant that most people experienced much concrete suffering. Seeing this suffering as an invitation to share in the suffering of Christ or as punishment for sin helped Catholics make sense of a harsh reality. This interpretation of existence influenced the spiritual practices of the faithful.

Irene wrote: "Manny, GR has turned off its notifications for the past 5 or 6 days. The buzz on GR is that there has been a rash of spammed porn that they are trying to stop and that is why they turned it off. It..."

Oh I did not know that. Thank you. I got notifications today, so maybe they're back to normal.

Irene wrote: "Catherine's poor mother. I loved the image of her carrying her daughter into her bed out of fear that she would destroy her health. I have been around enough anorexia in my life to understand the anguish of the family as they watch a loved one engage in behavior that is life threatening. I also loved watching the mother beg for Catherine's acceptance into the order when she realized that her daughter's severe illness was a result of her thwarted desire. She might not have understood Catherine's spirituality or call, but her love for her daughter is so beautiful."

Haha, yes, Catherine had a contentious relationship with her mother. I think her father understood her better. One thing you have to ralize was that Catherine was going outside the norm. First she was refusing to marry. Second she did not choose to become a cloistered nun. I think if she had I think her parents would have been a little more understanding. They could put that into context. But Third Order for women in her day meant she was essentially joining older women who were widows. She was still a teenager, and so her parents just could not conceptualize what she was doing and really had no way of understanding how she would survive. Her parents fretting over this was quite understandable.

But her mother did have a very strong busy-body type of personality who expected to be listened to. She really did not understand Catherine at all until much later in life. Her later in life mother actually joined the band of Catherine's followers who were I think called the Bella Brigada.

Gerri wrote: "Back to the book, another passage that I marked was the one where Catherine told her confessor that she couldn't see herself or other people "except in God" - that only through God could see think or see. She used the simile of being underwater, and seeing things around her only through the prism of reflections in the water. I was struck both by her explanation and by the fact it came from an unlettered young woman..."

What page is that on Gerri? That is a very interesting quote.

She used that underwater imagery frequently. One of her quotes was, "The soul is in God and God in the soul, just as the fish is in the sea and the sea in the fish."

Gerri wrote: "Finally, other passages raise a question for me for those of you of a more philosophical bent. More than once, I detected a sense of dislike toward the physical self. For example, one of Catherine's long quotes was about her visions and how they lead toward Truth, and that through Truth a soul gains a better understanding of God and self. "This makes the soul honour Me [God] and despise itself and that is the meaning of humility." Was Gnosticism a force in the 14th century? If yes, it might also help account for Catherine's intense self-disciplines and a comment such as the quoted sentence."

Actually Catherine was quite physical in her devotion. Blood and suffering and physical touch is there in her spirituality. She was very incarnational. If you're thinking that because of the anorexia, I think it's off base. Her anorexia was a discipline to train her soul. It was not because of hatred of the physical or hatred of her body. She loved people. What I find is the biggest misconception about Catherine is that they don't realize she was such a gregarious person. She was bubbly and joyful, and very charismatic. She had a very outgoing personality. Think of Italian extroverts. Once she comes out of her cell, she was an extrovert.

I just read Irene's reply. Yes I agree with the general comment that the ascetic practices were to subdue one's passions more than any philosophic antipathy toward the physical.

Concerning Catherine ascetic practices, Undset brings up what would be Catherine change of mind early in the book while Catherine is still you.

Many years later Catherine wrote in her book The Dialogue what her heavenly bridegroom had told her, when she was in ecstasy, about physical discipline: “What I demand of my servants is inner virtue and the struggle of the soul, not such external deeds as have the body alone as the instrument. These are means of increasing virtue, but these are not virtues in themselves.” And sometimes a soul becomes enamored of such outward penitential exercise, and then it becomes an obstacle on the way to perfection. Complete trust in the love of Christ and a hatred of one’s own ego; true humility, perfect patience, hunger and thirst for God’s sake and the salvation of the soul—these were signs of a pure heart which has killed sensual desire by the love of righteousness. (p. 30-1)

The writing outside the quotation is in essence a paraphrase of Catherine’s later thought.

Manny, yes I do realize that Catherine was electing a life style that was outside the norm for young women. Undset makes this quite clear. She did say that the family would have supported a vocation to a monastery. And, of course, marriage was what the mother expected. An unmarried woman walking the streets of the town was open to scandal as becomes quite evident. She could have been molested. In a culture of family honor, any scandal concerning Catherine would have negatively impacted all the family members. Living in the individualistic society of our world, I don't know if we realize how intertwined the fate of family members were. Her choice to defy social norms did not just open her to ridicule or dismissal, it opened the entire family to ridicule, to loss of face, to financial ruin, to the nephews and nieces lack of marriage partners and social stability. But as she saw it, her choice also had a huge impact on the standing of these family members in the Heavenly Kingdom which was of far greater consequence than their standing in the kingdom of Siena.

I am reading this well-written book, slowly but surely. I must admit, Ch 1-4 were painful. A mother who is angry at her duaghter. A daughter who is starving and flagellating herself. But I am going to persevere because I know what a great icon of the Church Catherine of Siena is. (in fact, I am at the beginning of Chapter VII and am seeing events that I can embrace.)

Did anyone else get the sense that the entire text of Chapter 1 could be read out as a corrective to our own culture's post-Christian orientation? Undset basically anticipates the standard attacks levelled at the Church, and her prose is so riveting that I think that it could be the starting point to a discussion to which her chronicle of St. Catherine's life is the conclusion.

I have been a little nervous writing my thoughts of the first four chapters. In lieu of this I want to only post one of the major things that had me contacting a few close friends (this includes my Godmother) to make sure I was not overthinking.

Mortification is something that honestly in our time period the Church has not really addressed. And if it has I find it either lacks or tries to bypass. We need to understand that mortification of what St. Catherine had done would not be allowed UNLESS there was approval by a spiritual director. (In her time and present)

A question I wrote in my book was this: How does one discuss the mortification that St. Catherine and other saints have done to a modern audience without it coming across as an excuse for self-harm?

This maybe a little too much for some but I have experience of self-harm (way before I became Catholic) and I do worry that if I had read this book when I was still in that state I could have tried to validate what I was doing.

We have to remember not everyone who reads this book is going to be a well-formed in the teachings of the Church or let alone Catholic. But even my Godmother mentioned that currently the Church has not really discussed mortification.

I should mentioned that I love St. Catherine of Siena. She is one of my patron saints. Maybe it is because I read things in the light of those who do not understand Catholicism or are not well-informed of their faith. Many (especially my Godmother) have told me I think of questions and details that few think about and when someone asks them they have no clear way of answering. To some that is annoying, for that I apologize.

Nikita, I think your question is an excellent one. A contemporary audience often sees anerexia in Catherine's fasting, self harm in her beating herself until the blood ran, her denial of sleep. We have a different spirituality and a different understanding of psychological health and illness. But I also think we need to discuss Catherine's and other saints mortification. We need to ask honest questions about whether it might move into a destructive place. How do we help people that might have psychological difficulties read these stories without having them justify self harm. Is all of Catherine's disciplines still seen as good or does our contemporary lens give us a different perspective? Can we talk about a saint and question things she said and did without being disrespectful? And, what in her spiritual life needs to be held up to our modern world? I suspect that most modern readers would be horrified at many of Catherine's spiritual practices. I wonder how many readers dismiss most of her spirituality out of hand because they are alarmed by some of the things she does to her body. How can we help our age to read her story in a way that finds the beneficial? Yes, she lived in a very different religious culture, so we can't impose our modern norms on her. At the same time, we need to have an honest conversation about the extreme of asceticism she practiced.

Irene wrote: "Manny, yes I do realize that Catherine was electing a life style that was outside the norm for young women. Undset makes this quite clear. She did say that the family would have supported a vocation to a monastery."

Does Undset actually say that? I've read so much on St. Catherine that I lose sight of where my memory is pulling it from. I don't remember reading it in Undset's book.

Irene wrote: "Her choice to defy social norms did not just open her to ridicule or dismissal, it opened the entire family to ridicule, to loss of face, to financial ruin, to the nephews and nieces lack of marriage partners and social stability. But as she saw it, her choice also had a huge impact on the standing of these family members in the Heavenly Kingdom which was of far greater consequence than their standing in the kingdom of Siena.."

Yes, certainly but I don't recall ever seeing a negative impact to her family. I don't think there was a negative impact. Her joining the Matallate (the local third order in Siena at the time) was probably rather discrete. What they did was mostly take care of the ill around town. Given that the Black Plague raged in some of her years, I would think she was a relief to many. While I guess there was a potential for a negative impact on the family, I don't think that ever happened.

Whenever there is a discussion of St. Catherine's life, it's inevitable it seems that her mortifications become a big part of the discussion. I just want to re-emphasize, Catherine repudiated these severe mortifications later in life. Read my comment #12 above and the Undset quote.

Knowing so much about Catherine, I don't feel that this is the most important part of her life. I don't really understand why everyone seems to zero in on this. This was part of medieval culture. Catherine took it a step further than most, but it was (1) not a psychological issue as anorexia is today and (2) she did everything with such intensity it is not surprising she went further than most. If she were a runner today she would have been a marathon/triathlon runner all in one. She did everything to the max.

Joseph wrote: "Did anyone else get the sense that the entire text of Chapter 1 could be read out as a corrective to our own culture's post-Christian orientation? Undset basically anticipates the standard attacks ..."

Catherine of Siena is what is so needed in today's world.

I think why we zero in is because that she is not the only one who did mortifications. Mortifications that she had done some of those what people call the modern day Catholics has done this. You make very valid point, but how many would view that way if they are not well formed or understand what mortifications are. It is more we need to as Catholics who are in the present need to discuss to others the true understanding of the mortifications. As I mentioned for someone who in fact dealt with self-harm for many years this is important thing to discuss. I have meant people who due to not being well formed take something that could be for the good of God and they take it the wrong way. I am sorry that I caused you to be annoyed by my thoughts.

Nikita wrote: "We have to remember not everyone who reads this book is going to be a well-formed in the teachings of the Church or let alone Catholic. But even my Godmother mentioned that currently the Church has not really discussed mortification."

Nikita, I guess we have fasting during Lent and we try to limit excessive indulgences today. As far as I now the church doesn't advocate flagellation. As far as I know the Church has never advocated practices that do harm to ones self. People (I think) took it upon themselves to go overboard. Did the Church actually advocate the Desert Fathers living in a cave or up a pole for a lifetime? My personal perception is it did not, but I am not an expert on this. St. Catherine of Siena is not a saint because of her extreme mortifications.

Nikita wrote: "I think why we zero in is because that she is not the only one who did mortifications. Mortifications that she had done some of those what people call the modern day Catholics has done this. You ma..."

I know, some people do jump to conclusions. I think that's why Undset brought up Catherine's latter repudiation of those extreme mortifications early in the book. Just to emphasize this is not how she really wants you to now live. Perhaps this is why I don't focus on it. I've come to understand how Catherine really felt once she fully understood it. As I said I don't think the Church ever really advocated such extreme mortifications, but I don't know.

Chapter four is one of the most important chapters in the book. If you can I would urge you to re-read it. Here she spends three years in her cell in prayer and contemplation and experiencing intense mystical experiences. This is where she lives within her cell of “self-knowledge,” which is really a cell harboring the indwelling of God. Here through the intensity of prayer she meets God within herself. The German Dominican mystics of the century after Catherine would develop this further, but I have to believe they had Catherine as a model. When you really think about this, it is not much different than St. Teresa of Avila’s interior castle writing two hundred years later. Catherine’s cell of self-knowledge is way more important to understanding Catherine than her mortifications.

Remember I said she did everything to the max. For three years she was essentially a hermit, living in her room and only going out for Mass. Once at Mass she stayed at the church in prayer for hours, “a habit which came to annoy even the sisters of her own order and many of the friars’ (p. 38-9). With such intensity she began to have mystical experiences. Here is a key one, one Undset identifies as a “fundamental truth upon which she [Catherine] built her whole life.”

One day while Catherine was praying, Jesus appeared to her and said: “Daughter, do you know who you are and who I am? If you know these two things you will be very happy. You must know that you are that which is not, but I am That Which is. If your soul is possessed of this knowledge the devil will never be able to cheat you, and you shall escape all his snares and all his cunning without suffering. You will never consent to anything which is against My commands. Without difficulty you will attain all the gifts of grace and all the virtues of love.” (p. 40)

“You must know that you are that which is not, but I am That Which is.” That really is at the heart of Catherine’s thought. I have tried to probe the meaning of that for years. I can’t say I fully understand it. On the simplest level, it says we exist and continue to exist only by the grace of God. On a deeper level it seems to say that our existence is only possible as part of the body of Christ. If we separate ourselves from Christ’s body, we don’t actually exist? Perhaps. Perhaps more.

So much of her theology comes out of these three years. In another vision Christ says to her:

“…And because I am the Truth My visions always lead to a greater knowledge of the Truth, and it is of the greatest necessity that a soul gains knowledge of Me and of itself. This makes the honour me and despise itself, and that is the meaning of humility. Visions which come from the devil make the soul which it visits proud, for he is the father of lies and of pride, and the soul is filled with vanity which is the core of all pride.” (41-2)

What are we to make of such visions? Is it Christ who is actually there visiting her or is she imagining all of it? Where does an uneducated teenage girl get such profound thoughts? Were the homilies so good at her church that by listening she absorbed the foundations of Christian thought and was able to build on it? I know the Dominicans were preaching around Siena, but my goodness she must have absorbed everything. But then I do believe Christ visited her. I do believe her mystical experiences were actually encounters with God. I don’t necessarily believe the mysticism of other saints, but I do believe St. Catherine’s. This is rich thought that goes beyond a single person’s deliberation.

Nikita wrote: "I am sorry that I caused you to be annoyed by my thoughts."

Oh Nikita, I just re-read your last line. No, no, you did not cause me to be annoyed. The very fact that everyone brings it up shows me it's a common conception of Catherine. And it's not a misconception. She did do these things and they should be discussed. She's going to do some other yucky things later on as a mortification. It does stand out. But there is so much more to her than this. That's what i want to emphasize. She wouldn't be a saint or famous or a Doctor of the Church if this is the extent of her spirituality.

Manny, Yes, Undset does say that the family would have probably accepted a vocation to a traditional convent. Unfortunately, I am reading/listening to the audio version from formed.org. It is not easy to go back to find the place where it occurred. It is almost impossible to navigate through their audio books and they are not paginated.
I did not mean to imply that Catherine's vocation ever resulted in social loss for the family. Undset does not indicate it nor does any other biography of Catherine that I have read. I only meant to indicate that fear of scandal would have reasonably been in the back of the mind of family members who could not have seen into the future. They could only have responded to the information at the time the young girl was refusing marriage, was seeking to join this third order for widows, who wished to go about the streets of Siena alone to care for the sick and attend Mass and serve beggars. As it was, even though she was never molested, many rumors circulated around her. And, although she managed to prove herself innocent and holy despite them, it does show that the fear of scandal would have been a reasonable fear in the minds of family members trying to discourage her plans.
Finally, why do contemporary readers give so much attention to her extreme spiritual disciplines? I think there are several reasons. One is that her biographers have put them front and center. These were seen as heroic in her day. Her biography was written within a short time of her death, to a generation that shared her spiritual orientation. So it makes sense that the official biography would highlight these disciplines. However, this official biography has served as the backbone of all future biographies resulting in these practices remaining prominent. Second, they are no longer part of our spiritual culture and have not been for several generations. People are often fascinated in what appears to be exotic. Third, The hagiography of Catherine appears to strongly link her spiritual disciplines with her mystical experiences and her over all sanctity. Although I agree that her life of prayer and charity are the marks of her sanctity, the hagiography does not usually make this clear. Yet we live in a culture where such practices would be viewed as pathological, self-starvation, cutting, self-harm in various guises. Rather than sanctity, they would be treated as signs of psychiatric illness. Any responsible contemporary reading of this biography has to grapple with this dichotomy. Where is the line between spiritual heroism and pathology? When should the community around a person engaging in these disciplines celebrate a desire to enter into the suffering of Christ and when should they intervene to stop the harmful behavior? How can Catherine's story be read and shared in a responsible way that does not allow those prone to self-harm to find a justification? Fourth, our modern understanding of neuro processes has revealed the connection between hallucinations, including those with spiritual content, and extreme deprivations. If figures like Catherine are going to be able to speak credibly to our time, we have to be willing to talk about the neurological impact of her practices. We have to be willing to talk about how we can discern between self-delusions and true spiritual experiences. Of course, the Church would say that it is in the fruit of those experiences. But that is not going to be self-evident to a secular world. This conversation has to be explicit on the part of believers. Fifth, Catherine's later articulation of regret or lack of full endorsement of the most extreme of her practices may be the most telling reason why there is such fascination around them. If the person who came to great holiness through or despite engaging in such extremes later discourages their practice, how should we understand them in the light of our spiritual lives? How do we discern what is healthy spiritual discipline and what crosses the line? How do we distinguish between healthy moderation and spiritual laziness, simply convincing ourselves not to do what is difficult? So I think that Catherine's mortifications are a source of fruitful conversation for our contemporary world. I think they are significant in a way that the practices of the Desert Fathers are not because we see many young people, especially women still engaging in such behaviors even if not for religious reasons. We do not see people regularly camping out on the top of a pole for a decade like St. Simon.

Irene wrote: "Manny, Yes, Undset does say that the family would have probably accepted a vocation to a traditional convent. Unfortunately, I am reading/listening to the audio version from formed.org. It is not e..."

It's ok Irene, I believe you that Undset refers to it.

Irene wrote: "Her biography was written within a short time of her death, to a generation that shared her spiritual orientation. So it makes sense that the official biography would highlight these disciplines. "

This is true and I have wondered if these disciplines were somewhat exaggerated. But I have no way of knowing otherwise. Your lengthy comment is well thought out. I think you are correct. Perhaps it's me that just ignores the mortifications.

I wonder what conclusions we can draw from contrasting the mortifications practiced by saints with the ways many distressed young people practice self-abuse, not just drugs but anorexia (I had a bout with that myself in college,) or deliberately inflicting pain. I knew several.students, some cut themselves, one came to school with self -inflicted eraser burns all over her arms, and other such. Now we call it pathology instead of mortification. Is it a death wish or is it something demonic more than wanting to purify oneself? It's sad that today some of the saints would be sentenced to rehab or therapy sessions in our day, or are we now justified in assuming these habits are unhealthy for anybody? The kids I knew who did those things were either in trouble or abused verbally or physically by family or all those things.

Not all visions in these three years were spiritually wholesome. There was a period where Christ stopped coming, and images of graphic sex came to her.

She never replied to the tempters, but only tried to pray even more earnestly, and chastised her body with firm and strict discipline. Only when the evil spirit said to her, “It is impossible for you to hold out to the end,” she replied, “I do not depend upon myself, but on my Lord Jesus Christ.”

She was thereupon attacked by a crowd of sensual and unchaste thoughts, of abominable visions and devilish illusions. She saw before her men and women who openly before her eyes committed disgusting and infamous acts, while they tried with threatening words and touches to force her to join in their orgies. (p. 44)

It has always struck me that St. Catherine should be the patron saint of those afflicted with porn addiction. Of course the difference is that she doesn’t choose to have them, but at some point if it’s truly an addiction neither can the addicted. Catherine overcomes them. When a demon threatens to have these images before her for her entire life,

Catherine answered, “with holy temerity,” as her biographer expresses it: “I have chosen these temptations as my refuge, and I say that I am happy that I may bear these and all other sufferings, from wherever they may come, out of love for my Saviour and my gentle Bridegroom, and for His honour, as long as He in His eternal goodness wills it.” (p. 45)

And with that the devils disappeared and Christ reappeared, and when she asked Him where He had been, Christ replied, “I was in your heart.” And He goes on to further explain:

“It was My presence which caused the sorrow and bitterness which I know you felt when the devils raged around you. And My grace guarded your heart so that you did not give in to the temptations of the demons. I would not that you should be spared these struggles as you wished, for I was filled with gladness to see how bravely you fought for your crown of honour. But when you offered so chivalrously to suffer every pain out of love for Me, you were immediately freed from these temptations of hell, because it was My will. And because you fought like a hero, you have earned and won still more grace, and I will appear to you more often than before and show you greater confidence than before.” (p. 46)

And so we see her grow in spirituality and confidence. Part of what this period of being within the cell of self-knowledge does is allow her to tap into God from within and give her the confidence that she speaks with Christ’s authority. She will no longer be a shy teenage girl but will have the poise and assurance of any man in the public world. St. Catherine of Siena should be a feminist icon.

I've sometimes wondered if Catherine's asceticism was amplified by hagiographers, particularly those of her own time or shortly after. That aspect of her life does seem to overshadow a strong canon of good works and a spiritual knowledge that far superceded her education. She is so much more than her disciplines.

I've gained good insight from this book discussion already. It helps me to know that Catherine:
- eventually counseled against such strict practices
- lived in a time when sharing in Christ's suffering meant something different than it does today.
- was an all-or-nothing type of person, the type we'd see today devoting their entire life to perfecting a sport or art (and we'd think nothing of their extreme focus).

So now I'm considering other angles, like the amplification by hagiographers who thought it would enhance her reputation. Conversely, what if someone or some people way back when wanted to shift emphasis away from her achievements? She was a rebel who pushed back against her societal norms, a woman who successfully maneuvered in what were then strictly male milieus, and an unlettered woman who was highly intelligent. All could have been viewed as threats and/or so improper that a lesson needed to be imparted to other young women. I mean, my Italian female ancestors couldn't even go out of the house alone in the 19th century. Catherine overstepped many, many bounds in the 14th.

All that was my long way of saying maybe an effort to diminish Catherine's reputation snowballed through the centuries. I mean, St. Francis had his turn at asceticism. Yet ask the average person today and they'll tell you he frolicked with birds and tamed wolves.

Manny, the comment about water is on page 39, near the start of Chapter IV. Raimondo related the story, but Undset says he said it was a simile he took from Catherine herself.

Gerri wrote: "Manny, the comment about water is on page 39, near the start of Chapter IV. Raimondo related the story, but Undset says he said it was a simile he took from Catherine herself."

Ah yes, I underlined that myself. Thank you Gerri.

One last thing on the mortifications. I just finished reading Utopia and I went back to read the Introduction in my edition. Apparently More had a schedule of mortifications too. Whoever wrote the Introduction (strangely it only lists his initials, "H.M.") had this to say about More.

"More’s earnest character caused him while studying law to aim at the subduing of the flesh, by wearing a hair shirt, taking a log for a pillow, and whipping himself on Fridays."

More lived about two hundred years from Catherine. But what crossed my mind was, how severe were these whippings? Was it so severe that it drew blood and scars? Or were they mostly a swing of a rope against the back to cause a slight sting? The difference is significant. Same thing applies to Catherine. The level of pain and damage from the mortifications makes a difference. We're just not told.

I took a couple of classes with Dr. Peter Kreeft and he's fond of noting that in the middle ages, ascetical practices were what we would call extreme because it was a broadly Christian culture and so you really had to go the extra level if you wanted to grow in holiness. Since our culture now is often hostile to the Church, we don't need to put in as much effort ourselves, just try to live honestly and we're mortified by the culture in a sense.

Yes, severe mortifications of the flesh was promoted for penitential purposes. It is not just saints like Francis or Catherine that punish their bodies, many people who sought to grow in holiness did so. My understanding is that, at this period, a scurging that only caused a slight sting would not have been considered a valuable spiritual practice, but a cop out, sort of a person today fasting from meat on Friday only to have a delicious fish dinner. Parades of barefoot penitents wearing sack cloth and publically scurging themselves are repeatedly found in the historical record. Many of the sufferings that communities experienced such as the plague were attributed to punishment for human sin. Preaching emphasised human sinfulness and the accompanying punishment from God, both in this life and afterward. People would often be wipped up into a frenzie of these types of disciplines. Entire religious orders were dedicated to penitential practices.

Irene wrote: "Yes, severe mortifications of the flesh was promoted for penitential purposes. It is not just saints like Francis or Catherine that punish their bodies, many people who sought to grow in holiness d..."

Yes, that has to be the case. And Catherine didn't do anything half way. If you look up an anchoress, you would see they sealed themselves in for life. That's pretty extreme.

Joseph wrote: "I took a couple of classes with Dr. Peter Kreeft and he's fond of noting that in the middle ages, ascetical practices were what we would call extreme because it was a broadly Christian culture and ..."

That does make sense. Aren't we lucky then!

One other thing. We do offer up our pains to the Lord as they come. I know I do. That is still a good Catholic practice. I encourage it. I jammed several of my fingers on my right hand last week and it's been sore all the way to mid palm. Every time I feel that pain I offer it up to the Lord in the hopes it eases the pain in His hand on the cross.

There is one more important incident in chapter four that should be highlighted, and that is Catherine’s mystical betrothal to Christ. A number of saints – seventy-seven according to New Advent Catholic Encyclopedia https://www.newadvent.org/cathen/0970... - have undergone a mystical marriage (Saints Catherine of Alexandria, Teresa of Avila, St. Mary Magdalen de' Pazzi, etc.) with Christ. Here’s how Undset depicts Catherine of Siena's.

Around Christ there now appeared His blessed mother, the apostle St. John the Evangelist and St. Paul, and David the poet-king bearing a harp upon which he played beautiful melodies. As is the custom at betrothals the mother, the Virgin Mary, stepped forward and took Catherine’s right hand. She lifted it up towards her Son, and bade Him bind His bride to Him in faith as He had promised. Jesus put a beautiful ring on her finger; it was adorned with a brilliant diamond surrounded by four large pearls. He spoke the solemn words which the bridegroom says to his bride: “I here betroth you as My bride in perfect faith, which for all time shall keep you pure and virgin, until our marriage is celebrated in heaven with great rejoicing. My daughter, from now on you must undertake without protest all the works which I come to demand of you, for armed with the power of faith you shall triumphantly overcome all your opponents.”

The vision disappeared. But afterwards the maiden could always see this engagement ring on her finger, although it was invisible to others. (p. 49)

This scene has been depicted in several paintings of Renaissance art. It should be pointed out that this is an engagement, and not the actual marriage. The actual marriage is to happen in heaven. Here the engagement ring is said to be a diamond. There is an alternative version to this story where the ring is actually Christ’s flesh. In a particular letter, St. Catherine says this to a nun, referring to the nun’s marriage to Christ.

"He has espoused you - you and everyone else - and not with a ring of silver but with a ring of his own flesh. Look at the tender little child who … when he was circumcised, gave up just so much flesh as to make a tiny circlet of a ring!"

So to Catherine, the ring all women who consecrate their lives to Christ is made up of Christ’s foreskin. This is the alternative legend to Catherine’s engagement ring. I said that Catherine was very incarnational. I believe the alternative.

What a marvelous discussion for the first week. I’m a little late to getting to the second week’s summary. If I finish the read tonight I will get it up. Otherwise it may have to wait until tomorrow. Thank you for making this a great first week. St Catherine would be proud. Please continue if you have more thoughts.

Finally catching up! ...and it took me two days just to read all the comments in this first section, lol.

I never cease to be amazed how different saints are from the rest of us. How they see the world is not easily comprehensible to us. When Terese of Lisieux was a child she says that she wasn't good at games, she preferred thinking in her room, which she later recognized as being in prayer. Now what child doesn't like to play games? I have yet to meet one. Catherine keeps to herself as well. Being in the presence of God is so superior than anything else the world can offer.

Let me explore another avenue on the mortifications. I think we have to keep in mind Catherine was still very young full of the fervor of youth. Overdoing things is part of that age group. Parents have to constantly bring their over-reaching teenagers back onto solid ground.

Mortifications are still part of our culture. They have shifted into other realms and are practiced with religious-like fervor. I am thinking especially of cult-like exercising, or the stricter side of voluntary diet plans such as paleo, keto, all meat, vegetarianism, and veganism. In a secular culture we no longer worship the transcendent but the material: in this case we worship the body, its shape and abilities and part and parcel of it is how we feed it in hopes of staying super healthy. The "spiritual directors" are personal trainers and nutritionists who follow the same regimen. If anyone dares to mention some of these might be a tad excessive and/or conter-productive to overall health, you get branded a heretic faster than you can blink.

Funny how the patterns repeat themselves... To me wearing a the medieval hairshirt or modern-day veganism has about the same appeal, none whatsoever. Yet because we are in closer proximity to the latter we tend to be more accepting of those who practice it. I imagine if you asked a medieval chap what he thought of aerobics (after you explained it to him), he'll think you addle-brained and at the same time wonder why anyone should get all worked up over a bunch of monks walking barefoot in the snow. He may not want to do it, but hey, if they pray for me miserable sinner while they're at it, who am I to object?

Manny wrote: "“You must know that you are that which is not, but I am That Which is.” That really is at the heart of Catherine’s thought. "

This quote blew me away. It points to the center of our very existence. God created the world ex nihilo, out of nothing, and everything flows from there. To entrust the young Catherine with such deep mystical concepts no mortal can fully penetrate is astounding.