Reflections for a New Beginning

The new year ought to begin with high hopes and good examples. Hope, for the energy and optimism we need to take a plan from dream to reality, and good examples to get the wheels spinning and the ideas flowing.

No matter what I want to do, I’m always encouraged by the thought that other people have done it, or at least have made a plan and seen it through. I find that it reduces the apprehension and the fear of failure that can tempt me to give up before I begin.

So I was delighted to find some inspiration in two stained-glass windows I happened to be looking at recently.

I love stained glass. I love color and light, and stained glass is a perfect blend of the two. When the sun is blazing through a stained-glass window that renders its subject with masterly art, I just bask in the beauty. Fortunately, my parish church, St. Augustine’s in Larchmont, has superb stained glass, including three large windows in the sanctuary: Christ the Good Shepherd in the center, directly behind the altar; St. Augustine of Hippo, our parish patron, on the left, and St. Monica, mother of Augustine, on the right. It was latter two that caught my eye.

         Augustine, of course, was a priest, then a bishop, and one of the greatest philosophers in history. He strongly influenced the Church in the fourth and fifth centuries. He also left his formidable imprint on the craft of autobiography with his Confessions, in which he described his early life and his conversion, not only from heresy to faith, but from immorality to a life of virtue and holiness.

         I was mulling over St. Augustine’s achievements when I turned my gaze to the stained-glass window that depicts his mother. Monica was a convert to Christianity whose pagan husband would not permit their children to be baptized. Augustine, of course, rejected Christian teaching at first and lived unmarried with a woman who bore him a son. Monica wept and prayed for years that Augustine would renounce his immoral way of life and embrace Christian faith and virtue. Augustine went to Milan, and Monica, after she was widowed, followed him and settled there, where she continued to agonize over him. Augustine relates in his Confessions that Monica sought the help of a bishop to turn her son’s heart. Augustine does not name the bishop, although it is thought that he was St. Ambrose, bishop of Milan. In any event, the bishop told the distraught mother, “It is impossible that the son of so many tears should perish.” His words would be fulfilled: Augustine left the woman and devoted himself to faith, scholarship and service to Christ and the Church. Eventually he became the bishop of Hippo in his native North Africa.

         I thought about the connection between Monica’s tear-filled prayers and Augustine’s conversion. I wondered whether there might be an aura of humility around that image of St. Augustine. After all, here is a man renowned throughout history for his brilliance, his holiness and his contributions to the faith. But he might never have made it into stained glass had it not been for the woman in the opposite window. No prayers, no conversion. No anguished mother, no saintly son.

         Even the mighty Augustine needed an intercessor who would not give up on him.

         I’m inclined to look at the accomplishments of the great and wise and think, “Look at what they accomplished! Why should I even try? I can’t succeed the way they did.” Whether the goal is spiritual or secular, I tend to assume that the people who achieved great things are beyond my ability to imitate them.

         But that’s the wrong attitude. I’m not called to accomplish anything the way someone else did. I’m called to do what I’m suited to do with my own humble talents, and to do what I need to do as well as I can do it. I imagine that many of us have dreams of something we want to accomplish, or goals we want to reach, including spiritual goals. We need to begin with hope and the dream. Not with doubt and fear of our limitations.

         It’s worth keeping in mind that even those who achieved greatness often had help, including spiritual help, someone praying for them and encouraging them and trying to put them on a better, wiser, holier path. We might not be as far from a truly Christian way of life as Augustine was at first, but we might benefit anyway from seeking a new direction that’s more likely to lead where we need to be.

         I know that I could really benefit from having an advocate like St. Monica. I believe that heaven is filled with them, ready and waiting to help us. The saints are on our side. All we need to do is to seek their friendship through hope-filled prayer. It wouldn’t surprise me if St. Augustine himself was more than ready to lend a hand.