A Reflection for the Memorial of St. Monica
“Consider your own calling, brothers and sisters.” (1 Cor 1:26)
There’s a certain set of adjectives that are usually used to characterize women saints. You’ll often hear that they were serene, patient, self-sacrificing, either a virgin or a mother. The characteristics we choose to highlight about them paint a particular picture of how a good woman ought to be.
I’m not here to knock the virtues of a patient, selfless, giving spirit. I don’t know where I would be without the people in my life, men and women, who embody that kind of goodness. But as a young girl growing up Catholic, I sometimes struggled to see myself in women saints because many times it seemed their human complexity was only half-drawn. Yes, they were patient and kind and good. But I also wanted to hear about the strength, zeal and wild spirituality that usually defined the stories of men who became saints. I was confident that women throughout the centuries had all those qualities, too.
That’s why I love St. Monica.
Monica suffers from the half-drawn fate of many ancient holy women, too. If you’ve read St. Augustine’s Confessions, you know most of what there is to know about her. Monica was the mother of Augustine, who became one of most influential figures in Christian history and whose many writings are still widely read today. As we know many women saints to be, Monica was certainly patient and self-sacrificing and a devoted mother.
Monica’s serenity and devotion make her an excellent role model for both men and women—and so do her sense of purpose and her intense vitality.
But I think what I love most about Monica is the way she breathes life into the message of today’s first reading. Paul urges us to “consider our own calling” and describes the incredible vocations God has in mind for those the world thinks “count for nothing.”
Monica, to me, stands out because of her intense sense of purpose. Her faith completely animates her life, and she is determined to share it with the people she loves, no matter how many times they let her down. As Augustine moves from place to place and entertains many different schools of thought throughout his spiritual journey, Monica is by his side, unwavering.
If you’ve read Confessions, you know that Augustine’s soul almost seems to bubble over. His intense desire for meaning, for love and for life come alive on the page, even though he died in 430. I think he got that singularity from his mom. While her son was the one to pen some of the most important theological and philosophical writings ever, it’s undeniable that Monica’s fingerprints are on every page. How cool is that?
It’s imperative to talk about women saints in all their complexity, in their purposeful and virtuous journeys toward eternal life as well as their joys and sorrows in this life. In knowing them more completely, they can be better guides for us in our journeys of faith. Monica’s serenity and devotion make her an excellent role model for both men and women—and so do her sense of purpose and her intense vitality. How blessed are we to walk in the footsteps of such multi-faceted, human, holy women.
