Greetings,
The other day we were having a discussion about miracles: what constitutes a miracle, do they really happen, why do they happen (or not happen), and do we believe in them? February 10 is the memorial to Saint Scholastica, Virgin (c. 480-547), who was born in Nurisa, Italy. She vowed herself to God and followed her twin brother, Saint. Benedict, to Monte Cassino, where she lived the rest of her life. She founded and was the leader of a group of nuns at Plombario, about five miles from St. Benedict’s abbey. This is an account from the books of Dialogues by Saint Gregory the Great, pope.
Scholastica, the sister of Saint Benedict, had been consecrated to God from her earliest years. She was accustomed to visiting her brother once a year. He would come down [from his monastery] to meet her at a place on the monastery property, not far outside the gate.
One day she came as usual and her saintly brother went with some of his disciples; the spent the whole day praising God and talking of sacred things. As night fell they had supper together.
Their spiritual conversation went on and the hour grew late. The holy nun said to her brother: “Please do not leave me tonight; let us go on until morning talking about the delights of the spiritual life.” “Sister,” he replied, “what are you saying? I simply cannot stay outside my cell.”
When she heard her brother refuse her request, the holy woman joined her hands on the table, laid her head on them and began to pray. As she raised her head from the table, there were such brilliant flashes of lightening, such great peals of thunder and such a heavy downpour of rain that neither Benedict nor his brothers could stir across the threshold of the place where they had been seated. Sadly he began to complain: “May God forgive you, sister. What have you done?” “Well,” she answered, “I asked you and you would not listen; so I asked my God and he did listen. So now go off, if you can, leave me and return to your monastery.”
Reluctant as he was to stay of his own will, he remained against his will. So it came about that they stayed awake the whole night, engrossed in their conversation about the spiritual life.
It is not surprising that she was more effective than he; since, as John says, God is love, it was absolutely right that she could do more, as she loved more.
Three days later, Benedict was in his cell. Looking up to the sky, he saw his sister’s soul leave her body in the form of a dove, and fly up to the secret places of heaven. Rejoicing in her great glory, he thanked almighty God with hymns and words of praise. He then sent his brethren to bring her body to the monastery and lay it in the tomb he had prepared for himself.
Their minds had always been united in God; their bodies were to share a common grave.
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As the recipient and the participant in many miracles, I certainly do believe in them. I also believe that as the Greek in the New Testament indicates, miracles are “signs” from God, intended to provide some message from God for someone, at times not even for the person who directly befits from the miracle. At the same time, I am very reluctant to attribute every unusual circumstance to being a miracle. I am reminded of the old joke: A man had agreed with his family that he would go on a diet, and specifically would give up donuts, which he loved to get from a bakery on the way to work. After a few days of denying himself his pleasure, as he drove toward the bakery, which was in the middle of a busy block, he prayed, “Lord, if it be your will that I should have a donut today, please let there be a parking space right by the bakery.” When he arrived at work carrying a box of donuts his co-workers asked, “What happened to your diet?” He told them of his prayer and very solemnly said, “It was a miracle. God opened up a parking space right in front of the bakery, and I only had to go around the block nine times!”
Yours & His,
DED
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