Throughout the centuries, there have been remarkable individual
conversions
from Judaism to Catholicism. The story of Francis Libermann
is
unique, for no other Hebrew convert was to exercise such a significant
influence
on the spiritual welfare of the African Continent, as this
nineteenth-century
descendant of Abraham. He was born on April 12, 1804, at Saverne
in
Alsace and was given the name of Jacob by his father Lazarus, a zealous
and
pious rabbi who raised his children faithfully in the precepts of
Judaism.
Jacob grew to love his religion, studying diligently both Bible and
Talmud.
He grew up with a pronounced aversion based on fear of Christians,
particularly
clergy, and as a child fled at the sight of them, convinced – not
always
without reason – that they wished him ill. Jacob was a delicate,
nervous
child and when his mother died, the ensuing grief aggravated his
already
precarious physical condition. Although pious as a child, during the
adolescent
years following his mother’s death he slipped into religious
indifference,
which finally ended in his total rejection of the Jewish faith. About
this
time his eldest brother embraced Catholicism, an event which plunged
him
into even greater religious confusion. One of his companions then
loaned
him a book, a translation of the four Gospels into Hebrew. He read it
avidly,
and was much impressed with the sincerity of its message, but found
himself
unable to accept the miracles of Christ. Further light was on the way,
however,
this time from a most unexpected source. Of all the books ever written,
perhaps
Emile of Jean Jacques Rousseau would be the least calculated to bring
an
inquirer to a knowledge of Catholicism. Astounding as it may seem, it
was
this condemned work which was to set our young on the right road in his
religious
quest. In one section of Emile Rousseau lists the arguments for and
against
the divinity of Christ, and Libermann found himself totally convinced
by
the arguments for His divinity. This was only intellectual conviction
however.
As yet, he was still a long way from theological faith. Then the
conversions
of two of his brothers to Catholicism shook his soul to its depths.
Blanketed
in darkness and distraught by anxiety, he set out for Paris to consult
Monsieur
Drach, another convert from Judaism to the Church. Drach decided that
what
Libermann needed most was some quiet spot he could think. Accordingly
he
arranged that Jacob should remain at the College Stanislaus for some
time.
Shutting himself up in his room the young man gave himself over to
incessant
prayer and reflection, restricting his reading to religious works.
Piteously
he pleaded with divine Providence for guidance. His prayers were
answered.
Light came and he believed absolutely. He describes this
experience
thus:
“I believed all without difficulty. From
that moment
my great desire was to see myself plunged in the sacred font, and my
happiness
was not long delayed. I was at once prepared for the admirable
sacrament
and received it on Christmas Eve. Next morning I was allowed to
approach
the Holy Table.”
This was in 1826. At Baptism he took the name of Francis Mary Paul, the
latter out of devotion for the great Apostle of the Gentiles. There was
a
prophetic touch to the choice, for in many ways he was to emulate the
missionary
exploits of his zealous prototype.
Libermann’s goal now became the priesthood, so he began studies at the
seminary attached to the College Stanislaus. He donned clerical dress
--what a change from the days when he feared the very sight of it! In
December, 1828, he received
minor orders. The way to the priesthood was now open and for this he
began
an intensive preparation. But the very day prior to ordination, he was
struck
down by epilepsy. Then as now, this disease constituted a major
impediment
to ordination. The way was hopelessly blocked, so he abandoned his
plans.
It was one of those seemingly senseless trials, with which God tries
His
faithful servants to bring them closer to Himself. That Libermann, from
its
onset, could accept it humbly and patiently, was positive proof of the
power
of that faith which had brought him, despite parental opposition,
within
the true fold. The trial was, however, a heavy one; so intense
was
the resultant depression that he contemplated suicide by throwing
himself into the River Seine in Paris, and he never kept a knife in his
room, fearful that the temptation to kill himself might prove too
strong.
Meanwhile, what was to be done? He could not hope to become a priest—at
the same time he showed no desire to return to the world. The college
authorities devised a happy solution. He joined the Eudists, taking up
residence at a branch house of the Paris seminary which belonged to the
order. No sooner did he reach their house than he was created master of
novices. At last it seemed that his future was assured and that
eventually he would become a member
of this institute. But this was not to be. God had other plans in store
for
His faithful servant.
Among the many students with whom Libermann had come in contact, two
were to exercise a profound and permanent influence upon him. The first
of these was Frederick Le Vavasseur, who came from Bourbon, an island
in the Indian Ocean, annexed by France in 1645. The other young
man was Eugene Tisserand, whose mother was a daughter of the exiled
General Beauvais, former governor of the island of Haiti in the West
Indies. Eugene was horn in Paris, but he had learned much from
his mother about the deplorable conditions of the Negroes in Haiti.
Both these young men had often conversed with one another about the
religious destitution of the Negroes in their respective areas. For a
long time they had wished to help them, confiding their desires to
Libermann.
The latter had listened to their accounts with sympathetic attention,
but
declined to become further involved. The two did not give up, however,
and
eventually Libermann became convinced that his true vocation lay along
this
path. He went to Rome seeking approval for his plans. A year was spent
in
the Eternal City—a period of difficulties, disappointments, prayer,
discussions with Church officials, and pilgrimages to holy shrines. One
anecdote of his sojourn has been preserved for us. On February 17,
1840, he was presented to Pope Gregory XVI. Laying his hand on the
visitor’s head, it was that the Holy Father was visibly moved. “Who
is he whose head I touched?” inquired the Pope after the meeting.
An account of Libermann was given, which having ended, the Vicar of
Christ said: “Sara un santo -- He will be a saint !”
Libermann’s new institute was in due course approved under the title:
“Congregation
of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.” By now the epileptic fits had
completely
disappeared and on his return he was raised to the priesthood. At last
he
could go forward in all humility to consolidate the main work of his
life!
The novitiate opened with three members: Libermann himself, Le
Vavasseur
and a deacon named M. Collin. By the end of 1842 there were a dozen in
residence
and the next year this number doubled.
One of the most zealous confreres to be accepted by Libermann at this
early period was Father Jacques Desire Laval. Hearing that
Libermann planned to send missionaries to the Negroes, he applied for
admission and was accepted. When Bishop Collier requested help from
Libermann, the latter appointed Father Laval to go to Mauritius, the
first member of the congregation to leave for fields afar. So fruitful
were his labors on the island that he has earned for himself the title
“Apostle of Mauritius.” His beatification cause was introduced in
1918. Father Le Vavasseur left for Bourbon in February
1842, and Father Tisserand for Haiti soon after. But unfortunately they
were unable to continue their labors in either place, the British
prohibiting mission
work on the former island, while on the latter, the French did
likewise. These
were severe reverses, but they did not dampen Libermann’s ardor. On the
contrary,
it continued to glow even more fervidly. From this time forward he
began
to think of establishing missions on the African mainland itself. After
extensive
negotiations with the bishop and the French government, all
difficulties
were resolved, and on August 31, 1843, the missionaries of
Libermann—seven priests and three brothers —left the motherhouse at La
Neuville for Bordeaux. Their way led through Paris, to the shrine of
Our Lady of Victories, that hallowed spot which loomed so prominently
in the history of his congregation. On September 13th, the contingent
sailed for the west coast of Africa.
After the usual voyage, the ship docked at Gabon, an island some miles
off Dakar. Here the missionaries spent a few days, during which they
visited the
mainland then resumed the journey, reaching Cape Palmas towards the end
of
November, much later than they had anticipated, the delay being due to
heavy
tornadoes. Sunday, December 3rd, feast of St. Francis Xavier, the great
apostle
of the Indies, was celebrated with special ceremonies. A solemn
procession was held during which Exsurgat Deus and Magnificat were
chanted. The missionaries preached through an interpreter, as though to
let it be known that paganism was still in the ascendant and was
determined to remain so, a fetish sacrifice was being conducted within
earshot of the proceedings.
Things seemed to be moving smoothly enough until the fevers started.
All three of the brothers caught malaria; two recovered and were able
to staff missions in Africa, but the third died. All of the seven
priests who had made
the voyage also caught malaria, only two were able to stay on as
missionaries in Africa; a third had to return home to France, and the
other four died of
the fever. One of those who died, Father de Regnier, wrote Libermann
from his death bed:
“Tell my family and my friends that I am
happy to have left all for our Divine Master. If I had to do it again,
I would do
it a thousand times, and I would not change my position for all the
honors in the world. Courage, my dear Father, when all seems lost! Then
will Mary show her power and save everything. ‘Whether we live or die:
we belong to our Lord and Mary.’”
How did Libermann react to these tragedies? The following extract
from a letter which he wrote at this time gives us an insight into the
thoughts and emotions that surged through him on learning of the deaths
of his missionaries.
“We are in need of much consolation, for
great misfortunes have befallen us in Guinea. The blows our Lord rains
down upon us are too heavy not to make us see in them an extraordinary
act of His Providence. Everything gave hope for this mission, so vast
and so abandoned. Reports from
every quarter indicated that with some slight losses we might firmly
establish
ourselves. But God has judged differently. He tries us most severely.
His
holy name be blessed!”
Bowed with grief but unbroken in spirit he still continued to nurse
hopes for the future. The Guinea coast had been entrusted to him for
evangelization, and he was determined to carry on, come what may.
Conversing one day with a friend he said:
“I have sad news to give you about Guinea.
Do not
be cast down. Adore the Divine Will and remain peaceful. The losses are
heavy,
but from I hope for the salvation of that immense region. If God
demands that
for His glory we should all perish we must prostrate ourselves before
Him
and let Him act!”
Father Tisserand was now appointed prefect apostolic of Senegambia, but
he never reached his destination, for the ship on which he was outward
bound foundered during a violent storm off the African coast and all
were lost. Not daunted by this new catastrophe, Libermann left for Rome
where he succeeded in having two ecclesiastical territories, Senegambia
and the Guineas, erected into a single vicariate, a jurisdiction
running a distance of almost 5,000 miles! Bishop Truffet was to
administer this vast area. He was a man burning with zeal for souls,
and high hopes were entertained for his future. But Bishop
Truffet was only six months in Africa, when he too was struck down
by death.
No news had been heard of Father Bessieux, who had been one of the
original seven priests to go to Africa, and he was presumed to have
succumbed to fever along with the others. Great was the delight
of all when, like a bolt from the blue, a letter arrived from Father
Bessieux describing his trials and requesting more missionaries!
Libermann dispatched three new missionaries to Father Bessieux. A
letter from the first of these describes the condition in which he
found Father Bessieux:
"Father Bessieux himself came out in the
same canoe
to take us off the Caiman. He was so worn and pale as to be hardly
recognizable.
On landing, our first visit was to the chapel which occupied the center
of
a miserable wooden hut. An empty gin box, lined with calico and with a
stone
slab to cover the aperture served as tabernacle. An old herring barrel
covered
with muslin formed a pedestal for a little statue of the Blessed
Virgin.
Three or four children, who already knew a few words of French, and
some
catechism, formed the whole hope of the mission. The “treasury” was
empty
except for a few lengths of cheap muslin, some leaf tobacco and a
half-penny."
Soon after this Father Bessieux was nominated vicar apostolic.
Prospects seemed brighter, and from this period onward, coordination,
consolidation and expansion began to characterize the effort. Libermann
was to prove himself well-versed in mission strategy and tactics, never
forgetting that the paramount necessity was personal holiness in the
priest. He wrote:
“Let them always be mindful of a great
maxim, a
fundamental one for all those who wish to work for the glory of God and
the
salvation of souls. It is this: we must always work for our own
sanctification, and that not only by never losing sight of it, but even
by making it our only
care. As a necessary consequence, all those who work seriously at
becoming men of renunciation, interior men, men living only in the love
of God,
dead to themselves and alive solely and fully to God and in God—such
never fail to do important and efficacious work for the salvation and
sanctification of souls—but their great occupation is their own
progress. They seek only to please their divine and adorable Master,
and this with all their power. Hence, they do all that is agreeable to
Him and, thereby, while hardly seeming to aim at it, they procure the
sanctification of their brethren, with a zeal and efficiency of which
many others together would be incapable.”
He was also a staunch advocate of the basic missiological concept of
adaptation. On this subject he expressed himself as fo1lows:
“Become Negroes with the Negroes… Act
towards them
as servants towards their masters. Adopt their customs and manner and
habit,
as servants do those of their master. Perfect them, sanctify them, show
them
their lowliness and make them, slowly but surely into a People of God.
That
is what St. Paul refers to as becoming all to all, to win all to Jesus
Christ.”
In 1840, when the proposa1 had first been made to establish Libermann’s
congregation, it had been objected that an institute for the conversion
of
the black race was already in existence. This was the Congregation of
the
Holy Ghost founded by Claude Francis Poullard des Places, a young
French
nobleman. As time wore on, priests of this institute were to be found
not
only at work in France itself, but also in Canada, India, China, South
America,
the West Indies and Africa. When the French Revolution erupted in 1789,
the
Congregation of the Holy Ghost, like every other religious community in
the
country, was suppressed; the government confiscated its property and
its
members dispersed. Only one confrere, Fr. Bertout, survived.
Ecclesiastical
authorities in Rome were well aware of these difficulties and in the
interests
of maximum efficiency, decided in 1848 to fuse the respective
institutes
founded by both des Places and Libermann. The latter was created
superior
general, while the retiring head of the Holy Ghost Fathers was named
vicar
apostolic of Madagascar. The newly-joined societies became known as:
The
Congregation of the Holy Ghost and Immaculate Heart of Mary.
The persistent worries attached to his office, as well as the physical
labors involved, always weighed heavily upon Libermann. His health had
never been robust, considering his nervousness as a child and epilepsy
when a young man,
and about 1850 serious symptoms began to show themselves. Stomach
trouble worsened and medical examination revealed that ossification of
the liver had
set in. At the start of December, 1851, he took to his bed, but an
improvement enabled him to return to Paris. Here he had a relapse and
this time he lay down, never to rise again. With the liveliest
dispositions of faith and love he waited for death. Towards the end of
January he received the last sacraments, offering up his sufferings,
which were those of a martyr of charity, for the
missions and his priests, lie died on February 2, 1852, while Vespers
were
being chanted and precisely at the words: “Deposuit potentes de sede
et
exaltavit humiles. He has put down the mighty from their seats
and
exalted the humble.” His remains lie within the enclosure of Notre
Dame
de Gard, in a simple tomb, hewn out at the foot of the cemetery cross,
a
modest monument being the only decoration. Pius IX declared him
Venerable in 1876.
|
