On 21 June, the Church celebrates the memory of St. Aloysius Gonzaga. Nothing earthly attracted him, he lived in contemplation and all his actions were in full conformity with divine designs.
Newsroom (17/07/2024 08:30, Gaudium Press)
“So what are we going to do, Brother Luigi?”, asked Father Provincial as he entered the sick man’s room.
“We are on our way, Father.”
“To where?”
“To Heaven… If I am not stopped by my sins, I hope, through God’s mercy, to go there.”
This was the mood of the young novice of the Society of Jesus, who had interrupted his theological studies due to a serious illness and had been lying prostrate on his bed for three months. Eight days earlier, he had predicted that these would be his last.
“I will die tonight”
In the morning, he asked for the Viaticum, which was only brought to him in the afternoon, as he was thought to still be healthy. He spent the day in acts of faith, petition and adoration. The Jesuit priests could not console themselves at losing their holy brother and tried to persuade him that his time had not yet come. He adamantly replied:
“I will die tonight. I will die tonight.”
Fathers and novices from all the houses, having learned of the prediction of his death, flocked to bid him farewell, to entrust themselves to his prayers and ask for his last advice. Illness had undermined his bodily health, but his soul was growing in holiness all the time. So he cared for everyone with affection, promising to remember them in Heaven.
In the evening, when the rector saw that Louis could still speak easily, he concluded that he would not die that night and ordered the brothers to retire. Only two priests remained in the room to help the sick man, as well as his confessor, St. Robert Bellarmine.
Louis could not hide his deep joy. To go to Heaven, to unite himself definitively with God: it was what he had longed for most during his life!
After a while, he said to his confessor:
“Father, you can do the commissioning.”
The priest immediately did so, with great compassion and devotion. Recollected, calm and confident, Louis awaited the supreme moment, which was not long in coming: at around eight pm, with his eyes fixed on the crucifix he held in his hands, he entered serenely into the terrible pains of agony. Not a single moan left his lips, and his gaze never strayed from the Image of the Crucified. Pronouncing the Most Holy Name of Jesus, he surrendered his soul to God in peace and serenity.
The perfect person constantly thinks of God
Aloysius Gonzaga was one of those beloved souls on whom God pours out graces and gifts in superabundance in order to maintain their innocence. The degree of holiness he reached on this path was extremely high. Nothing earthly attracted him; he lived in contemplation and all his actions were in full conformity with God’s designs.
This is how the famous Dominican Father Garrigou-Lagrange describes a soul in this state of perfection:
“After the passive purification of the spirit, the perfect know God in an almost experiential way, no longer fleeting, but almost continuous. Not only during the hours of Mass, the Divine Office or other prayers, but also in the midst of external occupations, their soul remains turned towards God. So to speak, they do not lose His presence and they maintain their present union with Him.
“We will easily understand the question if we analyze it in contrast to the state of soul of the egoist. The egoist is always thinking of himself and naturally refers everything to himself; he is constantly entertaining himself about his whims, his sorrows or his superficial joys; his intimate conversation, so to speak, is incessant, but vain, sterile and sterilizing for everyone. The perfect one, on the other hand, instead of thinking about himself, constantly thinks about God, His glory, the salvation of souls and, to this end, makes everything converge towards this goal, as if by instinct. His intimate conversation is not with himself, but with God.
Let us take a look at some episodes from St. Aloysius Gonzaga’s earthly life – brief but pervaded by holiness – which are a good reflection of his innocent soul.
Righteousness from early childhood
He was born on 9 March 1568 in the Castle of Castiglione, Italy. He was the first child of Don Fernando Gonzaga, Marquis of Castiglione and Prince of the Holy Empire, and Dona Marta Tana, Lady of Queen Isabella of Valois.
It pleased the Marquise to see how well her son assimilated her motherly instructions on piety from an early age. His father, however, worried, for he feared that devotion would divert him from the career of arms for which first-born sons were destined.
When Louis was five years old, the Marquis was ordered to leave for Tunis at the head of 3,000 Italian infantrymen and, having to review the troops in the city of Casalmaior, he took his son with him to accustom him to the taste of arms. The boy spent a few months there and, in the company of the soldiers, learned some indecent words, which he began to repeat without knowing what they meant.
Back in Castiglione, he was reprimanded by his tutor and not only did he never utter such words again, but he showed great annoyance when he heard someone say them. He was very ashamed of this fault and, when he had become a religious, he used to tell it to “prove” how bad he had been since he was a child.
Devotion to Mary and exemplary virtues
When Louis was nine years old, Don Fernando took him and his brother Rodolfo to the court of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. Divine Providence used the two years he spent in Florence to help him progress along the paths of holiness. Reading a book on the Mysteries of the Rosary caused devotion to Mary to blossom in his soul. His fervent devotion to Our Lady of the Annunciation, venerated in that city, also contributed to this. His heart was so inflamed by the Virgin that he wanted to offer Her his vow of virginity.
The various virtues were already strong in his soul. He had acquired a complete guardianship of his senses, total obedience to his superiors, as well as a profound recollection of soul and elevation of spirit.
God was quickly building a beautiful cathedral in Louis’ soul and, with the simplicity of a child, he allowed himself to be led by his heavenly Father. Having moved to the court of Mantua, he not only kept his habits of prayer, but sublimated them by practising mortification. Forced by the doctors to follow a diet in order to cure himself of an illness, he took such a liking to penance that, going beyond the prescriptions, he gave himself over to the strictest fasts. He considered himself to have had a delicious meal when he ate a whole egg!
Intense supernatural life
Back at his father’s house, he was filled with extraordinary mystical graces. When he began to consider the divine attributes, he would experience such great consolation that he would shed enough tears to soak several handkerchiefs. Sometimes he would be so overwhelmed that he would completely lose his outer senses. His whole mind was set on the supernatural, and all his words were about the things of God.
In 1580, Cardinal Charles Borromeo, Pope Gregory XIII’s Apostolic Visitor, arrived in Castiglione. The Cardinal was very surprised to see how that little “angel” discoursed on religious topics. After talking to him for two hours, the Cardinal decided to give him the Holy Eucharist for the first time.
At the age of thirteen, he felt the religious call. As he was still very young, and he did not tell his parents, but he redoubled his austerities. He abolished the use of the fireplace in his room; he would get up at dawn and, on his knees, pray for a long time, even during the rigours of the Lombardi winter.
Increasingly restless at the sight of his son’s progress along the path of piety, the Marquis of Castiglione decided, in order to distract him, to go with the whole family to Madrid and place him as a page to King Philip II’s son. Louis, however, with his soul anchored in God, remained firm and resolute in his intentions, amidst the pleasures and honours of the court.
Obtaining paternal permission
“What religious order am I called to?” – the young page asked himself. He chose the Society of Jesus. In addition to the noble function of teaching to which it was dedicated, the reason for this choice was the fact that Jesuits were forbidden by rule to ascend to any office unless by direct order of the Pope. Thus, he would renounce not only worldly honours but also ecclesiastical honours forever.
Shouts of anger and threats of flogging were the Marquis’ response to his son’s request to give himself to God in the Order founded by St. Ignatius. He used his influence to get some high ecclesiastical dignitaries to try to dissuade him from his vocation, or at least to get him on a path that would lead to the possible honours of the cardinalate. They were no more successful than the furious waves of the sea on the rock. His father then asked him to wait until he returned to Italy before deciding. He could not accept losing such a gifted son, in whom he had placed all the hopes of the princely Gonzaga house.
So began two arduous years of struggle to win his father’s permission to abandon everything and follow Christ. It was the most difficult – and perhaps the most glorious – phase of his life. This struggle ended with a moving episode: one day the Marquis, looking through the keyhole of his son’s room, saw him kneeling and flagellating himself. Only then did he bend and give him the longed-for authorization.
Joy at entering the house of the Lord
Once the Marquis had authorized his public renunciation of his rights as a first-born son, Louis entered the novitiate of the Society of Jesus in Rome. Everywhere he went, the noble religious left behind the soft odour of his virtues. He stripped himself of everything that reminded him of his former position, seeking humiliation and the last place. He even blushed with shame when he heard his family’s nobility being praised.
The novices fought for a place beside him during recreation time, for the pleasure of taking part in his elevated conversations, and they considered his personal belongings to be real relics. In the study of philosophy and theology, he was so wise that he defended a thesis in front of three Cardinals and other authorities with applause.
When his superiors saw the value of the jewel they had in their hands and, at the same time, the fragility of his health, they multiplied their concern for him. They resorted in vain to a change of scenery, in the hope that this would do him good. In view of the failure of this therapy, the Rector ordered him not to dwell on lofty thoughts for a certain period, as perhaps they were harming him…
Providence allowed this misunderstanding to make that “angel’s” qualities of soul shine even brighter. This time, the obedience he loved so much cost him great effort: leaving his constant state of prayer – he confessed to one of his companions – was an enormous torment, because as soon as he was distracted, his thoughts flew to the consideration of the divine mysteries.
Victim of Charity
In 1591, his charity towards his neighbour found an excellent opportunity to expand into heroism: to help the poor victims of the plague that was ravaging the Eternal City. It was not long, however, before he himself was infected. But God, who had decided to pick this lush lily so early, did not want to take it away before it had given off its last perfumes. Three months of a burning fever, accepted with total self-denial, ended his 23 years on earth.
His confessor, St. Robert Bellarmine, affirmed that St. Louis had lived a perfect life and had been confirmed in grace. Later, St. Magdalene of Pazzi would say of a vision she had of the immense glory that this son of St. Ignatius of Loyola enjoyed in Heaven: “As long as he lived, Louis always kept his gaze on the Word, and that is why he is so great. Oh, how much he loved on earth! That is why today in Heaven he possesses God in a sovereign fullness of love.”
Louis Gonzaga was beatified by Paul V in 1605 and canonized on 13 December 1726 by Benedict XIII, who declared him the Patron Saint of Youth.
A model of holiness in love
“In the evening of our life, we will be judged according to love.” It is to this love, in total surrender, that God calls us from our youth, just as he did to the rich young man in the Gospel: “Come and follow me!” (Mt 19:21).
May today’s youth – so lacking in role models and so confused about love – not adopt the attitude of the rich young man, saddened by having to let go of the things of the world, but rediscover the example of their patron, St. Aloysius Gonzaga. Pope St. John Paul II encouraged this in his address to the young people of Mantua:
“St Louis is undoubtedly a Saint to be rediscovered in his high Christian stature. He is a model also for the youth of our time, a teacher of perfection and an experienced guide on the path to holiness. ‘The God who calls me is Love, how can I circumscribe this love, when the whole world would be too small for it?’ – reads one of his notes.”[5]
Extracted, with adaptations, from: MATOS, Maria Teresa Ribeiro. “The God who calls me is Love. In: Heralds of the Gospel. n. 102, June 2010, p. 34-37.
Compiled by Sandra Chisholm
