Blessed Marie-Joseph Cassant O.C.S.O
Monk
1878 Agen – 1903
Toulouse
France, February
17, 1903. The anticlerical and antireligious war was at its peak. Georges
Clemenceau, nicknamed «the Tiger,» received in his library Dom Jean-Baptiste
Chautard, the abbot of Notre-Dame de Sept-Fons. The laws expelling religious
congregations just having been enacted, the abbot was pleading his Order's case
before the very anticlerical head of the government commission charged with
deciding their fate. After enduring «the Tiger's» ridicule and mockery of
monks, the Father Abbot, visibly inspired, began to speak: «The Eucharist is
the central dogma of our religion. It must have monks dedicated to adoring it.
Christ is alive—He is present in the Eucharist. Mustn't there be a court to
adore this divine King present among us? It is with our whole being that we
chant, with our whole heart that we pray, because it is to Him whom we love
that we chant. The Mass is the greatest event that can take place on earth. And
the mystery of Communion—God, infinite Love, who comes to fill me with His own
life! Alive with the graces of Communion, we want to pour out the benefits over
all humanity through a joyously austere life, in union with the divine
Crucified.» Visibly moved, the «Tiger» replied, «I understand how one can be
proud of being a monk when one is totally a monk. Consider me your friend!» The
Trappists were not to be expelled. Dom Chautard was unaware that at that
moment, he was being supported by the prayers of a young monk in the Trappist
monastery of Sainte-Marie du Désert, Father Marie-Joseph Cassant.
Attracted to prayer
Pierre-Joseph Cassant was born on
March 7, 1878, in Casseneuil-sur-Lot, near Agen, in southwest France. The next
day, he was born into the life of grace through holy Baptism. His parents were
well-to-do farmers, hard-working and deeply Christian. His older brother,
Emile, was nine years older. The child seemed frail. Very early, Joseph showed
an exceptional attraction to prayer, and his usual game consisted of setting up
improvised altars here or there, before which he would imitate the gestures of
a priest at Mass. His mother later said that he «planned to be a priest from
very young,» and that from then on, «there was nothing he wanted more.»
Joseph was just six years old
when he began school with the Christian Brothers, where he would stay nine
years. He proved himself an excellent friend, kind, devoted, without pride,
affectionate, and unaffected. However, the throng at recess, the boisterousness
of boys with their pushing and shoving frightened him and made him long for the
peace of the fields. In class, a trial awaited him—a profound mental slowness
made his studies difficult for him. His imagination was weak, his memory poor,
his intelligence less than penetrating. Nonetheless his application earned him
satisfactory results. From this he learned, by experience, the truth of the
classic adage, «Labor improbus omnia vincit: Great labor overcomes all
things.» In October 1889, Joseph was admitted to the Congregation of the
Blessed Virgin Mary, an organization of students who promised to honor Mary.
Several months later, he received the scapular of Our Lady of Mount Carmel and,
on June 15, 1890, he made his First Communion. At the end of a parish mission
in 1892, he received the sacrament of Confirmation.
In the spring of 1893, the priest
from Joseph's parish was perplexed—neither he, nor his vicar, nor the director
of the Christian Brothers' school doubted the young man's vocation, but they
questioned his abilities and were convinced that he would not get into the
Minor Seminary. Their solution was to take Joseph on as a boarder at the
presbytery to study under the vicar's direction. Joseph proved to be studious,
and happy to be able to live close to the church and to devote himself
frequently to prayer, although he was sometimes a bit mischievous with the
sacristan. But his difficulties with studies continued, and the parish priest
concluded that he would never reach the level required of a priest charged with
a parish. He therefore advised him to turn to monastic life, which better
suited his aptitudes and his spiritual attraction to prayer and silence; in
this way access to the priesthood, in conditions better suited to his
temperament, would be open. This way of realizing his vocation appealed to
Joseph. In the fall of 1894, he went with his parish priest to the Trappist
monastery of Sainte-Marie du Désert, thirty kilometers from Toulouse. This
first exposure to monastic life captivated the young man. Father André Malet,
the Novice Master at the time, wrote after his first interview with him: «I had
the impression of a very gentle and very deep soul who sought God. I made the
sign of the cross on his forehead and told him, 'Have confidence, I'll help you
to love Jesus.' His eyes filled with tears.»
Joseph's departure for the
Trappist monastery on November 30, 1894, was not without sadness. Tearing
himself away from his parents revealed to him the strength of the ties that
attached him to his family. But very quickly, he entered fully into his new
life: «It's impossible to get bored,» he wrote to his parents, «because every
hour is regulated... The main work is studying and manual labor. A great deal
of time is also spent praying the Divine Office.» A few days later, he wrote,
«I'm very content in this new life that, once you get used to it, is pleasant.»
The life was nonetheless austere: rising at two o'clock in the morning, an
exclusively vegetarian diet, six months of fasting a year, no recreation... On
Epiphany, 1895, he received the monastic habit and the name Brother
Marie-Joseph.
«Full of Jesus»
In Father André's eyes, religious
life was a perfecting, a developing of Christian life, of the life of union
with Christ Jesus. When he spoke of the Cistercian ideal defined by two
words—penitence and contemplation—the Novice Master underscored the
subordination of the first to the second. «By penitence, the monk frees himself
from the hold of the senses; by contemplation, he lives the supernatural life,
he draws his life from God.» For him, the Rule of Saint Benedict was an
apprenticeship in the love of Jesus. «Would it be enough, though, in order to
discover Jesus, to have the text of the holy Rule before your eyes or on your
lips? No—we must be 'full of Jesus.' For Jesus is not found or tasted except
through love, and love craves union with the Beloved.» The supernatural life so
understood is a joining to the Incarnate Word by means of an intense devotion
to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the furnace of charity and symbol of the love God
has for us. To the extent that we conform ourselves to the divine will, even
amidst the bitterest pains, peace and all the goods of Heaven will dwell in our
soul. The path to perfection is primarily a work of interior asceticism, done in
obedience.
During his novitiate, Brother
Marie-Joseph read and studied a great deal, not without difficulty, but with
unflagging perseverance. His instinctive desire to be supported by a structure,
to melt into an organized whole, made community life and obedience easier for
him. He acted with the conviction that he was doing God's will, submitting to
all, as Saint Benedict wanted, and finding contentment in the most ordinary and
humblest of things. But his life was not without struggles. He felt the hidden
stings of self-love and sometimes violent jealousy at the superior intellect or
virtue of others. Very emotional, even the most trivial of events upset him—a
minor problem, a disagreeable word, a personal slip could trigger great
agitation. Thoughts against purity did not spare him. He wrote, «When a bad
thought crosses my mind, if it remains in spite of me, I am not responsible for
it... For it to be a sin that must be confessed, I must have voluntarily
lingered there.» And again, «Put the love of Jesus in the place of bad
thoughts.» He often repeated the short prayer, «All for Jesus!»
A task of
reassurance
The profound relationship of
mutual trust between Brother Marie-Joseph and his Novice Master steadied the
balance of the young monk who had a tendency to fall into scruples. Father
André's understanding, steadfastness, and patience were able to appease his
deep anxieties. But it was sometimes necessary to reassure him several days in
a row, because the brother would remain disturbed by doubts about the
forgiveness of his sins, anxiety about the worth of his confessions, fear of
offending God by imperfect actions or by not responding to grace, of not having
a good death, etc. Despite these constantly recurring fears, Brother
Marie-Joseph was very docile to his director's wise advice. From year to year,
he felt more and more deeply attached to this spiritual father; this affection
itself alarmed him. So Father André reassured him: «I do not find fault with
this feeling, it is natural in the heart of a child. God does not forbid us
from being attached to those we love. On the contrary, it is He who made our
heart and He made it in such a way that it needs to attach itself to one it
loves. So if our love is legitimate and holy, our attachment will be legitimate
and holy. We must govern it, that's all. What must we do to govern it? We must
keep it, like the rest of our being and the rest of our operations, in the
hands of God...» Father André's firm direction often used the sacrament of
Confession to make the young brother progress in his union with the Sacred
Heart of Jesus. «It would be an illusion to want to strive for holiness in
accordance with the vocation that God has given to each one of us without
frequently and fervently receiving this sacrament of conversion and
sanctification,» affirmed Pope John Paul II. «We will never be holy enough not
to need this sacramental purification: humble confession, made lovingly, gives
rise to an ever more delicate purity in our service to God and the motivation
that sustains it. ... Gradually, from confession to confession, the believer
experiences an ever deeper communion with the merciful Lord to the point of
fully identifying with Him, which one finds in that perfect 'life in Christ' in
which true holiness consists» (Address of John Paul II to the Participants
in the Course on the Internal Forum Organized by the Tribunal of the
Apostolic Penitentiary, March 27, 2004)
Brother Marie-Joseph took his
first monastic vows (for three years) on January 17, 1897. After this day of
joy, daily life resumed its monotony. Celebrating the Offices took about seven
hours a day in the church. He found joy there, but also much suffering. More
than once, he was reprimanded for not bowing deeply enough; it was only later
that it became apparent that an illness in his chest made this bending
extremely painful. His reedy and out-of-tune voice did not allow him to sing
with spirit. In addition, his duties weighed on him due to his shyness and his
conviction that he was incapable.
The book, a means
of prayer
In his prayer, he perseveringly
asked for much. Usually, during mental prayer in community, he read. «When I
don't have a book,» he explained, «if I keep my eyes open, I become distracted;
if I close them, I fall asleep.» In fact, he lived in a state of continual
fatigue. Father André would later say, «There was nothing extraordinary about
Brother Marie-Joseph's prayer. He preferred to think about the mysteries of our
Lord's Passion when he had to pray without a book. He followed this latter
method—meditative reading—whenever he could, because, lacking a good memory and
utterly convinced of his inability to form correct and holy thoughts himself,
he preferred to use those he found in devotional books.» Prayer has no other
goal than to unite us with God. For some, this exchange of intimate friendship
that is prayer is readily established. But for most, it does not come so
easily. Saint Teresa of Avila herself suffered much from this difficulty and
she suggests a remedy that was quite successful for her: «It is good for these
souls,» she affirms, «to devote themselves a great deal to reading, because
they cannot draw from themselves any good thought» (Life, ch. 4).
Although one must follow the action of God when He wants to raise one to a higher
form of prayer—for at such a time any reading would be useless and even
counter-productive—it also would be detrimental to leave one's thoughts being
tossed about at the mercy of distractions and a dryness that is not at all
supernatural or profitable. At such times books remain useful to try to
establish a contact with God that isn't coming about or that has been lost. It
is not a matter of substituting reading for prayer or trying to kill time. If
by this means a conversation with God starts up, one must know how to stop
reading, however fascinating it might be, and abandon oneself to an intimate
exchange with Him. The book might be Holy Scripture, the writings of a Saint,
or another devotional book, according to one's inner attraction or the need of the
soul. One may also, to enter into prayer, make use of a beloved prayer, or look
at a picture, the crucifix, the tabernacle, or contemplate creation. Brother
Marie-Joseph often used for prayer such devotional objects, particularly
pictures. He was partial to ejaculatory prayers: «I always remember,» he noted,
«that a short prayer from the bottom of one's heart, if one can do no better,
is the most pleasing to God.» His desire was expressed in this way: «O Jesus,
grant me the grace that I might be in continual conversation with You.»
Brother Marie-Joseph was also
full of concern for the souls in Purgatory; for them he offered his sufferings
according to a formula allowed him by his spiritual father at the beginning of
his religious life: «My God, I willingly turn over, with all my heart, to the
souls in Purgatory the merits of all the good works that I will do in the
future, the indulgences I will earn, and the prayers in suffrage that will be
offered for me after my death, and I place them all into the hands of the
Immaculate Virgin Mary.»
An experience to
have
From childhood Brother
Marie-Joseph wanted to be a priest, and, while accepting the possibility of not
becoming one if his abilities did not allow him to, he persisted
enthusiastically towards this goal. The Eucharist was not a banal devotion for
him. «To live,» he wrote, «to be able to receive Communion every day if I do
not manage to be a priest, if Jesus allows.» In the Eucharist, Brother
Marie-Joseph saw Jesus tenderly welcoming all who trust in Him to be cured of
their spiritual illnesses: «O my Jesus, how good You are to give Yourself to
me, so wretched, so burdened with iniquities. You want me to receive You into
my heart, poor as it is, because You know that in receiving You I receive life,
and You want to make me live.» In his Encyclical on the Eucharist, Pope John
Paul II wrote, «It is pleasant to spend time with Him, to lie close to His
breast like the Beloved Disciple (cf. Jn. 13:25) and to feel the
infinite love present in His heart. If in our time Christians must be
distinguished above all by the 'art of prayer,' how can we not feel a renewed
need to spend time in spiritual converse, in silent adoration, in heartfelt
love before Christ present in the Most Holy Sacrament? How often, dear brother
and sisters, have I experienced this, and drawn from it strength, consolation
and support!» (Ecclesia de Eucharistia, April 17, 2003, no. 25). Brother
Marie-Joseph did not separate Communion from the sacrifice of the Mass, from
which he drew the strength to carry the Cross. Recalling the Masses celebrated
throughout the whole world, he wrote, «Each day the victim of Calvary travels
throughout the whole world, to immolate Himself continually for the glory of
His Father and the salvation of the world..., the crippled, the sick, the
afflicted can, at any hour of the day or night, during the long hours made so
difficult by suffering and insomnia, these poor souls can say, 'at this moment,
at such a place, a priest mounts to the altar, offering the Victim of
propitiation, the Victim of expiation.' »
Priest and victim
On June 24, 1900, Brother
Marie-Joseph made his perpetual vows. However, on the path to priesthood, the
obstacle presented by his difficulty with his studies was made worse by his
theology professor who did nothing to make it easier for him, but rather
treated him as incapable and judged him unfit for the priesthood. And other
problems were added: violent pains in his head and stomach kept him from
applying himself as much as he would have liked to. However, he was comforted
by reassurance from the Father Abbot and Father André, both of whom believed
that he would be able to finish his studies and be ordained. In fact, on
October 12, 1902, he was ordained to the priesthood at the hands of Bishop
Marre, a former monk of Sainte-Marie du Désert, who had been named auxiliary
bishop of Reims in 1900. The next morning he celebrated his first Mass before
the community. Here he was, a priest for all eternity! From then on, he would
strive to implement the ideal that would be outlined by Pope Paul VI: «Many
saints have wanted to unite the priesthood and monastic life, because they see
a harmony between the consecration of the priest and the consecration of the
monk. In fact, true solitude, in which one is occupied only with God, the
complete renouncement of one's property in this world, and the renunciation of
one's own will—all of which are practiced by those who enter a
monastery—prepare the priest's soul in a very special way to offer holily the
Eucharistic Sacrifice, which is the source and summit of all Christian life.
Moreover, when this total gift of self, by which the religious consecrates
himself to God, is added to the priesthood, the priest particularly resembles
Christ, Who is at once priest and victim» (Paul VI, Letter to the
Carthusians, April 18, 1971).
«In my own flesh»
The new priest's health was never
very strong, but for some time Father Marie-Joseph had suffered from disturbing
ailments: tremendous tiredness and chest pains. Shy and discreet, he almost
never spoke about these problems, not wanting to draw attention to himself or
trouble his superiors. However, from the beginning of 1902, it was necessary to
admit the obvious: the young monk was wasting away. The doctor diagnosed only severe
fatigue, but in reality it was a case of tuberculosis. Therefore, on the very
day of his first Mass, Father Joseph went, on his superiors' orders, to his
parents' home for a period of rest and to regain his deteriorating strength. In
spite of this two months' rest, his health declined rapidly. When he returned
to his dear monastery, with complete lucidity, he prepared himself to die. The
daily celebration of the Holy Sacrifice helped him to unite his sufferings to
the Savior's, following the example of Saint Paul, who said, in my flesh I
complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of His body, that
is, the Church (Col. 1:24). «When I am no longer able to say Holy Mass,»
said Father Marie-Joseph to his spiritual father, «the Heart of Jesus can draw
me from this world, for I no longer have any attachment to the earth.»
In the last weeks of his life,
the young priest suffered greatly. Lying down, he suffocated; seated, he had to
endure the pain of deep bedsores. Father André spent long periods with him
encouraging him to trust in the Sacred Heart. On Wednesday, June 17, 1903,
while his spiritual father was celebrating the Mass of the Most Blessed Virgin
Mary for his intention, Father Marie-Joseph passed away in his armchair in the
infirmary.
During Father Marie-Joseph's
beatification on October 3, 2004, Pope John Paul II gave him as an example in
these words: «Father Marie-Joseph always put his trust in God, in contemplation
of the mystery of the Passion and in communion with Christ present in the
Eucharist. Thus, he permeated himself with the love of God and abandoned
himself to Him, 'the only true happiness on earth,' detaching himself from
worldly goods in the silence of the Trappist monastery. In the midst of trials,
his eyes fixed on Christ, he offered up his sufferings for the Lord and for the
Church. May our contemporaries, especially contemplatives and the sick,
discover from his example the mystery of prayer, which raises the world to God
and gives strength in trial!»
Dom Antoine Marie osb.
http://www.clairval.com/lettres/en/2005/09/08/2070905.htm