Chapter XIII: Raimondo of Capua

Friday, December 14, 2012

Catherine of Siena by Sigrid Undset
Chapter XIII

Here we finally properly meet Raimondo of Capua, the most noted of Catherine's spiritual directors who eventually wrote her biography.

He also apparently knew St. Agnes (then still Blessed Agnes), another holy virgin.  I'm not entirely sure that it is THE St. Agnes, the one I went through a period of admiring a long time ago.  It would be a lovely bit of symmetry - the girl named for Catherine Benincasa having a relationship with St. Agnes, who lived her foot for Catherine to kiss despite having been dead for some time (incorruptible).

There are two very interesting stories in this chapter (well, there are more, but these are the things that struck me).  Especially since they seem a touch contradictory.

The first is, while both Raimondo and Catherine worked tirelessly (or nearly, for they both fell ill) to help plague victims in Siena, Fra Matteo, a mutual friend, nearly fell victim to it.  Raimondo admonished Catherine not to let him die, and she replied that she is not God to grant life and death.  Raimondo in turn admonished her not to play that game with him, her spiritual confessor, who knew that God would never deny her what she asked for.  And so Matteo lived.

At the end of the chapter, Raimondo confessed to her that he sometimes wondered if some of her visions were not flights of fancy.  He asked her to secure a bull for him - a blessing to feel the full weight of his sins and also God's mercy.  He did. The next day he went to her, penitent but still confessing he was not fully convinced.  Then Jesus shown through her for Raimondo to see, and he never doubted her again.

But perhaps these stories do fit.  Raimondo believed in her sincerity, but it is quite another thing to believe in her power and authority.  Dr. Carole Levin, who at long last introduced me to Catherine properly, pointed out that the great female mystics were frequently protected by their supportive confessors and spiritual directors.  Raimondo seems to have been a tireless and powerful (he was political, aristocratically, and by own holy reputation a powerful figure) protector and supporter of her - God's help sent for her.

Because it is one thing to believe in a holy virgin.  After all, all holy men were suppose to tell young nuns to aspire to be like them.  But to see a young, unschooled girl with real power and - what's more - a direct pipeline to God...

It is not easy thing, for all Raimondo blamed himself for still doubting after all the time they spent together and all the wonders he had seen.  I can understand why it took so much - why it took a few miracles on command and a vision of Jesus Himself.

I have dealt with Anti-Stratfordians who can't even bear the thought of the uncollege-educated Shakespeare being merely the greatest poet of his age (and the ones since, in my humble opinion).  Much less a figure like Catherine of power and insight and holy fire?  And a woman too.

I understand.  It reveals something nasty in us - classist and jealous and frightened of our own responsibility to move mountains in His Name.  Raimondo was right to repent it.  But I understand it all too well.

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate.  Our greatest fear is that we are powerful.  Because with great power comes great responsibility.

It makes sense that we try to hide the image of those who are extraordinary or lift them up as spider-bitten super heroes with abilities or resources beyond our own.  It is fearful to think that we could also be so faithful and so holy and so close to God.

And not only because we aren't already.