St. John Mary Vianney Shrine

St. John Mary Vianney Shrine

Cemeteries, although somber grounds for many, are nonetheless sacred spaces where religion is carved out in every prayer, tear, and flower left for a loved one who has passed away.

Last Sunday, I visited St. John Cemetery in Middle Village, Queens, and was shocked by the amount of people I found there. Admittedly, I have only ever gone to a cemetery one time in the past, but for some reason I had a particular conception of them as being grounds one visited only once in a while, perhaps on the anniversary of the passing of a loved one or on holy days. Yet, cars were lining up to get inside and everywhere individuals were making their way to graves with flowers in their hands.

Toward the back of the cemetery, in section 54, is a shrine commemorating St. John Vianney, Cure of Ars (1786-1859). A number of graves of priests circle the shrine, which lies at the center of the shape. It’s easy to see the reason why St. Vianney would be commemorated in the priests’ section of the cemetery upon reading about his life and humble priesthood. He spent his youth desiring to become a priest and, after much private tutoring, was finally ordained. He was a pastor at Ars and had visions that would lead him to fast and lose sleep to engage in praying for his community. Along with Catherine Lassagne and Benedicta Lardet, he established a home for girls named La Providence where the spiritual and material needs of all those who came would be taken care of. Vianney was a selfless man and in the winter months would spend 11 to 12 hours reconciling people with God. It seemed that instead of growing tired of his service to the community and God, he grew stronger and more determined. He spent countless hours in the service of others (“American Catholic”).

St. John Vianney is portrayed quite simplistically in the shrine. He wears a robe and is holding a chalice in one hand and the Eucharist in the other. This seems to be an appropriate representation of him, given his description of living a selfless life, constantly giving to others and God. Examining the form of the shrine reminds me of the aesthetics of holiness that we explored when discussing how saints were portrayed in Dorothy Day’s The Catholic Worker. Specifically, we looked at the 13^th century Catholic saint Elizabeth of Hungary. While her depiction in the stained glass at St. Bonaventure Church in Philadelphia is lavish and ornate and the early 20^th century sculpture very detailed, the drawing for The Catholic Worker is in black and white and lifts up an image of holiness as simple and ordinary. Every day work can be a site for grace, and work itself a spiritual good. While clearly not as simple as the drawing, the shrine of St. John Vianney is not elaborate, and I think that was done intentionally. The focus is on the service that exemplified his life and that is best depicted through the sacrament of Communion that the saint holds over his heart. He is an exemplar of what a priest should be, the kind of holy man that those buried around his shrine must have been or aspired to be throughout their lives.

Not only can a connection to Dorothy Day be found in St. John Vianney’s embracement of the Eucharist, which Day looked to for spiritual sustenance, but also in his style of life. Vianney’s selflessness is reminiscent of the selflessness of Peter Maurin, who admired the saints and led Day with his example of voluntary poverty. Maurin had “stripped himself throughout life; he had put off the old man in order to put on the new. He had done all that he could do to denude himself to the world, and I mean the world in the evil sense—that world we pledge ourselves to combat, with the flesh and the devil…” (Day, 274-75). Vianney would spend all of his free time consumed in serving God’s people. He also spoke of being awakened in his sleep by the devil, having to cast him out through prayer (“American Catholic”). It is ironic that this is the type of figure Day aspired to be, yet the same figure she hoped not to be made into so as to no be dismissed easily.

It’s impossible to visit a cemetery and not notice death all around you. However, it is something that must be faced constantly. In fact, it is something that several of the protagonists of the novels we have read for the course have had to deal with. Maurin himself in The Long Loneliness and the tragic suicides of Rosie in Dharma Bums and Aunt Aida in A Border Passage are examples of some who have met this fate. Those left to deal with the death of their loved ones were very much like the people I saw leaving flowers on graves. In Peace of Mind, Joshua Liebman’s third law for governing grief states that when death destroys an important relationship, “it is essential that someone be found partially capable of replacing that relationship” (Liebman, 115). Cemeteries are special places that allow one to come to terms with the universe and move on. New relationships can be formed while knowing that the memory of one’s loved one can always be visited if necessary. It is a respectful zone that allows for emotions to be expressed and for closure to be found.

Life may be sad, but it is always beautiful.    

Works Cited

American Catholic. Franciscan Media. Web. 30 April 2015.

Day, Dorothy. The Long Loneliness: The Autobiography of the Legendary Catholic Social Activist. New York: Harper Collins, 1997. Print.

Liebman, Joshua L. Peace of Mind. New York: Carol Publishing Group, 1994. Print.