St. Elizabeth of Portugal – Advocate for Peace
Introduction
Our journey through the Medieval Era with stories of Christian women who served in the kingdom of God has covered much of the 1000 years of the Middle Ages, from 500 AD to 1500 AD. From Genovefa (423 – 502) through Elizabeth of Hungary (1207-1231) we have told the stories of God’s humble servants. There were queens, abbesses, nuns, Beguines, Franciscan sisters, writers, godly wives, mothers, empresses, social reformers, and many other women who served Christ.
In these last few posts, we have emphasized how Godly families pass the faith on to their descendants. We saw how a godly mother – Blanche of Castile – raised saintly children – St. Louis and St. Isabelle. In our last post we discovered a woman who had a long line of saintly relatives – Elizabeth of Hungary. That line of godly Christian women would continue for many centuries and include Elizabeth’s great niece – Elizabeth of Portugal.
Elizabeth of Portugal – Peacemaker
“Blessed are the poor who live in an age when almsgiving and wage-giving have lovely legends for their authentication. These popular legends are the unofficial canonization of a saint by the poor whose instinct for sanctity is seldom misplaced. Such legends never grew round Don Diniz. — nor Henry VIII, nor another Queen Elizabeth.”[1]
Elizabeth, or Isabel as she was known by her Spanish name, was born in 1271 at Saragossa, Spain. Elizabeth was named after her great aunt, St. Elizabeth of Hungary, the sister of her grandmother, Yolande. Elizabeth followed in her namesake’s footsteps giving food to the hungry and seeing to it that they were paid fair wages for their work.
The two Elizabeth’s had more in common – both were married young, and both desired to follow in Jesus’s footsteps as they shared the gospel. Though wealthy they each gave as much of their wealth to the poor as they could. Both would join the Third Order of St. Francis in their later lives.
Elizabeth’s father was Don Pedro, son of Jayme the Conqueror, King of Aragon. Her mother was Constance, daughter of Manfred, the illegitimate son of Emperor Frederic II. Though Elizabeth’s great aunt Elizabeth of Hungary and grandmother were known for their piety and saintliness, neither of her grandfathers would ever achieve a reputation for holiness. Elizabeath had the illegitimate grandfather on one side and King Jayme on the other side who was a man of war and known for cruelty on the battlefield.
In spite of her less than stellar grandfathers, it is a miracle of the grace of God that this saintly girl showed her devotion to God even when very young. She fasted and prayed regularly. Her father, who was more spiritual than her grandfathers, spoke of her as his angel. Don Pedro praised her for her constant meditation, reading of the bible, and faithful worship. Elizabeth also gave away a large portion of her allowance to the poor. Others said that even at an early age she carried herself like a princess and showed much wisdom and good sense.
Elizabeth was barely twelve years old when she was married. As was typical of European royalty her marriage was a political move. Of course, she was not asked about whether or not she would be happy with her future husband. Her reputation as a beautiful, astute, and pious princess was well-known. King Edward I of England asked for her hand for his eldest son. The King of Naples also sought to marry her to his heir, Robert. Don Pedro was reluctant to part with his daughter whom he loved very much. Finally, he agreed to the proposal by the Portuguese King, Don Diniz. This turned out to be tragic for Elizabeth.
Don Diniz was constantly quarreling with everyone including his family. What a sorry lot Elizabeth married into. Her father-in-law repudiated his lawful wife and married the illegitimate daughter of the King of Castile. Diniz’s brother Alfonso III had been excommunicated by the Pope for resisting the bishops. Though Alfonso had the better claim to the throne, Diniz ruled. Elizabeth had all she could do to keep her faith and patience.
Don Diniz proved to be an unfaithful husband. Elizabeth and Diniz had two children, but Diniz also had seven children with other women. Elizabeth had a daughter, Constance, born on January 3, 1290, and a son Alfonso who was born February 8, 1291. Constance later married King Ferdinand of Castile.
Elizabeth is remembered the most as a peacemaker. She served as peacemaker between adversarial opponents some 12 times. Her efforts were aimed mostly at her own family who caused her the most personal pain and in reality, even financial loss. She was able to bring to pass many truces between political enemies as well.
It was when her son Alfonso was born that the first of many occasions occurred which would eventually win her the title Patroness of Peace. After the birth of their son Alfonso, Diniz and his brother Alfonso quarreled to the point of a civil war. Elizabeth called for an arbitration council of clergy and laity. The royal brothers rejected the terms of reconciliation, but Elizabeth persevered in her efforts. Caring more for peace than for her own desires, Elizabeth effected the truce between the brothers by giving away a good portion of her own possessions to Alfonso’s daughter.
Years later on another occasion in 1323, Elizabeth’s son Alfonso became jealous of one of his father’s illegitimate sons. King Alfonso had been showing the illegitimate son too much favoritism. Rival armies were gathered, and war was imminent until Elizabeth stepped forward. She counted no personal sacrifice too great in order to bring about peace. She even rode alone on mule-back between the two armies who were shooting arrows at each other. She was so focused on her mission of peace that she did not stop to think of the possible cost to herself. She had trust and faith in God that she was doing right. The battle was averted much to the praise and acclamation of the people.
Most of the people at Diniz’s court were as immoral as he was. Elizabeth was not tempted by any of their enticements. She remained true to her faith in God and her purpose to follow Christ. She continually gave to the poor with a humble attitude. She could have taken advantage of her status to live a luxurious life, but instead she used all of her influence to help those in need. In fact, she insisted that all of her ladies in waiting care for the poor too. Later her bishop testified that Elizabeth invited the lepers into the castle where she would bathe and clothe them herself, even though it was against the law for lepers to come into the castle.
King Diniz died on January 6, 1325. Two days later, Elizabeth began to wear the clothes of a Poor Clare. She declared that now that she was a widow, she could fulfill a long-standing dream of following Christ in this way. She was not officially joining the order, but just following like those in the Third Order of Franciscans. In this way she could continue to control her wealth, which to her meant the ability to give most of it away.
She went on two pilgrimages to Compostella. On the first visit she went as a Queen and gave many gifts to the monastery. On the second visit she went on foot with only two maids and kept her identity a secret. During the famine of 1333 the saintly queen gave away so much money that the court counselors were becoming worried about their finances. Elizabeth merely called on them to trust Him Who feeds the birds of the air.
It was during the end of her life that Elizabeth encountered the only unsuccessful quarrel that she had to deal with. At the age of 65 this widowed, dying Queen left her bed to try and save two kings from their foolish quarrels. In 1336 war broke out between the Portuguese and the Castilians. The “Advocate of Peace” had failed to convince the two kings to reconcile. She was bitterly disappointed.
The next day, Monday the queen’s illness began to advance rapidly. She called for her chaplain and made her last confession. Three days later, with only her daughter-in-law in attendance, Elizabeth spoke her last words.
Maria Mater Gratiae,
Mater Misericordiae,
Tu nos ab hoste protégé
Et hora mortis suspice.
(Mary, Mother of Grace, Mother of Mercy, From the foe shield us, in the hour of death take us.)
On Thursday, July 4, 1336 Elizabeth went to meet her Savior – the Supreme Peacemaker. She was buried in the Convent Church at Santa Clara at Coimbra with her sisters of St. Francis of Assisi. Elizabeth was canonized on May 25, 1625. Her feast day is celebrated on the day of her death – July 4.
[1] Fr. Vincent Mcnabb, O.P. St. Elizabeth of Portugal (Mediatrix Press, MMXV, reprinted in 2015 in the Kindle edition.) Location 101.
Silent Night! Holy Night!
December 24, 2020 by mylordkatie
Silent night, holy night,
Stille nacht, heilige nacht.
Millions of Christians around the world will sing this beloved hymn “Silent Night” during the Christmas season. This favorite Christmas carol has been translated into just about every language in the world. What a joyous thought to know that so many people will be remembering the day of Jesus’ birth in spite of the challenges of the year.
One Christmas Eve 1818 in Oberndorf, north of Salzburg, Father Joseph Mohr knew that St. Nicholas Church would be completely full of people. Father Mohr had a sermon in mind, a message for his flock on this sacred night, but he wanted a carol, something special this Christmas Eve service.
“Silent night, holy night” was the first line from a poem that the young Austrian priest had written two years before. Now he can’t get the phrase out of his mind. “Silent night, holy night.”[1]
Silent night, holy night,
All is calm, all is bright…
“Silent night, holy night” was the first line from a poem that the young Austrian priest had written two years before. Now he couldn’t get the phrase out of his mind. “Silent night, holy night.”
The words won’t go away. “I need a tune!” he said out loud, shaking his head. “I wonder if Franz can help me. I hope it’s not too late.” Franz Gruber was the schoolteacher in the nearby village of Arnsdorf — a gifted musician, organist at the Arnsdorf church, and occasional substitute organist at St. Nicholas. “Franz will help me!” he said to himself. “He can’t resist a musical challenge.”[2]
Elizabeth opened the door at his knock. “Father Mohr, how nice of you to stop by. Franz will be glad to see you.” She took his coat and ushered him in. Franz was picking something out on his guitar.
“Franz, remember that poem I told you about: ‘Silent Night’?” said Mohr. “I know it’s too late to ask, but could you help put a tune to it? I want to sing it tonight for Christmas Eve.”
Gruber’s face lit up. A challenge. A song. He took the lyrics from the priest and began to say them over and over, looking for a cadence. Then he hummed a line and wrote it down.
Mohr soon tired of the process and began to play with the children. But within an hour or so, Gruber seemed to have a melody and was working out the chords on his guitar. “Father, how does this sound?” he called and began to sing the words:
Silent night, holy night,
All is calm all is bright…
He stopped to make a correction in the manuscript, and then continued:
…’Round yon virgin, Mother and Child,
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace!
Sleep in heavenly peace!
Father Mohr was ecstatic. On the second verse Gruber’s deep voice was joined by Mohr’s rich tenor. Elizabeth, baby on her hip, who had been humming along, now joined them on the last verse. The song filled their home with its gentle words and memorable melody.
Christmas Eve at St. Nicholas Church, Oberndorf, 1818
That night, December 24, 1818, the song filled St. Nicholas Church at Midnight Mass. Mohr sang tenor, Gruber bass, and the church choir joined the refrain of each verse, while Mohr accompanied on the guitar. By the time the last notes died away, the worshipers were a-buzz with joy and wonder at the song. On Christmas Day, the song was being hummed and sung in dozens of homes around Oberndorf. “Silent night, holy night.”
And in Oberndorf, they would sing their beloved carol again and again each Christmas. The song might have stayed right there had it not been for an organ builder named Karl Mauracher, who came to repair the pipe organ at Arnsdorf in 1819 and made several trips to Oberndorf over the next few years, finally building a new organ for St. Nicholas in 1825.
The Song Finds Its Way to Emperors and Kings — and to America
Whether Mauracher found the music and lyrics on the organ or they were given to him by Gruber, we don’t know. But he carried the song to the Ziller Valley east of Innsbruk, where he shared it with two local families of travelling folk singers, the Rainers and the Strassers, who began to sing it as part of their regular repertoire. The following Christmas of 1819, the Rainer Family Singers sang “Stille Nacht” in the village church of Fügen (Zillertal).
Three years later they sang it for royalty. Emperor Francis I of Austria and his ally Czar Alexander I of Russia were staying in the nearby castle of Count Dönhoff (now Bubenberg Castle). The Rainer Family performed the carol and were invited to Russia for a series of concerts.
In 1834 the Strasser Family Singers sang “Silent Night” for King Frederick William IV of Prussia. He was so taken with what the Strassers called their “Song of Heaven,” that he commanded it to be sung by his cathedral choir every Christmas Eve. It spread through Europe and in 1839 the Raniers brought the song to America as the “Tyrolean Folk Song.” Since then it has been translated into over 300 languages and dialects.
Various English translations blossomed, but the definitive English version of the song was penned by Rev. John Freeman Young and first published in The Sunday-School Service and Tune Book (1863).
Why Is “Silent Night” So Popular?
Why has “Silent Night” become our most beloved carol? Is it the words — tender, intimate, gentle? Or the tune — so peaceful, so memorable, so easy to play or pick out with one hand on the piano?
It is not a joyous, fast-paced carol like Handel’s “Joy to the World.” Nor theologically-rich like “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” by Charles Wesley. Nor does it have a complex tune like “Angels We Have Heard on High.”
Rather, “Silent Night” is quiet and reflective, calling us to meditate on the scene. It is the ambience conveyed by both the gentle words and melody that create from this carol an oasis of peace.
“All is calm, all is bright.”
It calls us to dwell on the Madonna and Child —
“‘Round yon Virgin, mother and Child,
Holy Infant, so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace.”
You feel as the shepherds do who “quake at the sight.” You can imagine as “heavenly hosts sing Alleluia.” And you begin to sing “Alleluia to the King” right along with them.
Rays of backlit brilliance highlight many a religious painting, but here the picture of light is painted in words:
“Glories stream from heaven afar….”
“Son of God, love’s pure light,
Radiant beams from Thy holy face….”
Just Who is in this manger? What is the significance of this birth? What is Christmas about — really? Perhaps most of all, “Silent Night” is beloved because it reminds us in its simple, but exceedingly clear way, the truth behind it all — the truth that changes everything:
“Christ, the Savior is born!”
Sing it again this Christmas and let its gentle peace wash over you and its bold assertion renew your soul.
“Jesus, Lord, at thy birth!
“Jesus, Lord, at thy birth!”
In spite of the fact that there were many unusual challenges in 2020 and that it looks as though they will continue into 2021, may we all take comfort in the fact that Jesus is Lord, Savior, Redeemer and coming King! Alleluia!
God bless you all this Christmas!!
[1] The rest of this story is reprinted from: Joyful Heart Renewal Ministries authored by Dr. Ralph F. Wilson. You can go to his website and see this and many more heartwarming stories at: joyfulheart.com
[2] This was of course, Franz Gruber, Schoolteacher and Organist and the now famous composer of the music. —– While the first few paragraphs of this story have been fictionalized, the historical events are true. Joseph Mohr (1792-1848) wrote the words to “Silent Night” in 1816 while priest at Mariapharr. On Christmas Eve 1818, he asked his friend Franz Gruber (1787-1863) to write the tune for Mass that evening at St. Nicholas Church in Oberndorf where Mohr had been assigned in 1817. The author was careful to rely on recent historical research into the origin of the carol, much of it gathered since 1995, when a manuscript of the carol in Mohr’s hand was found, dated 1820-1825. Some of the most helpful (and accurate) information sources are: Bill Egan’s Silent Night Museum, Egan’s article “Silent Night: The Song Heard ‘Round The World,” “Silent Night, Holy Night — Notes,” Hyde Flippo’s “Silent Night and Christmas,” the Stille Nacht Gesellschaft by Manfred Fischer, director of the Silent Night Museum and Chapel in Oberndorf, Austria.
Posted in Social Commentary | Tagged Franz Xavier Gruber, Joseph Mohr, Silent Night | 1 Comment »