While Eugene was dealing with the Minister, an anonymous letter arrived from Aix denouncing him. The letter gives every indication of having been written by one of the priests of the city who was antagonistic to Eugene. He narrates:
You can let it be known throughout the city, my dear friend for the consolation of worthy people and to the despair of the wicked, that we are recognized by the Government and authorized to continue “the functions that” we have “so happily begun.” These are the very terms of the letter which the Minister has just addressed to “M de Mazenod, superior of the Missions of Aix.”
You will note that M. de Mazenod had never assumed this title in speaking or in writing to the Minister. Apparently it is to belie the author of the anonymous letter which denounced me to the Minister while designating me, such is the regard he has for my person, as “a certain Sieur de Mazenod, priest of this diocese, calling himself a missionary.”
Yes, my dear, will you believe it, in the midst of the unanimous chorus, as the Minister says further, of ecclesiastical, civil and military authorities who hasten to give him the most flattering tributes about me and our work, has been raised the voice of an anonymous wretch who has denounced the Sieur de Mazenod, who calls himself a missionary, as a man whose principles in respect to the hierarchy are most dangerous, who has dared to teach publicly in catechetical instructions that the Pope is infallible, who is at open war with all the parish priests of the city, against whom these same parish priests have brought a judicial complaint before the Vicars General over a grave insult that he took the liberty of perpetrating against them, etc., etc. His Excellency was indignant over the foulness of this man for whom he has the utmost disdain. Instead, he holds this Sieur de Mazenod in real esteem, is well pleased with him and has not judged him anything like as dangerous as M. Anonymous.
Letter to Henri Tempier, 5 August 1817, O.W. VI n.19
The effect of the letter was to give the Minister the opportunity to show the government’s respect for Eugene and to encourage what he was doing in Aix. Instead of destroying Eugene’s cause, it enhanced it. A few days later the Minister received a letter from four of the Aix pastors officially denouncing Eugene for the “insult he had thrown at them.” The Minister refused to take action and referred them to their diocesan authorities. The initiative had backfired and the pastors had lost this round, but were to continue their attack a few months later. The heart of the conflict was not tension between personalities, but around the question of the survival of the Missionaries of Provence.
As is my habit on Sundays I came here to the same date simply a year or two back for my reflection. Today though I came sure that I would be led to a posting which would allow me to write about my thoughts on forgiveness. Oh the strength and cunning of my ego!
Forgiveness surely was a part of what Eugene experienced at some point in regard to the letter writer, but that is not where I was led. Rather I thought of Jesus as I read Eugene’s letter to Henri and Frank’s thoughts. I thought of those who spent so much energy and life in trying to find fault and trap Jesus and how Jesus handled it. And I thought of Eugene, himself emulating the Saviour, co-operating with our Saviour and how he moved through it. It was not with arrogance, there do not seem to be any “I told you so”s. There is simply an implied “I know what I am about” – we see that in Jesus and I see it in Eugene. Both have taken ownership in who they are. For a moment the question of “who am I?” dances before me, something I can come back to later today.
It is this that I believe I am called to. It doesn’t happen magically – poof and suddenly it is there. It seems to come as a result of struggle and letting go, prayer and discernment. Do I dare to follow and emulate Jesus, who is God? Do I dare to emulate and follow Eugene who is saint, founder of a congregation? I dare. I dare with trepidation for this is surely not what God would ask of me. I dare with longing for this is surely for what I have been created. It seems to be a little counter-cultural and yet perfectly natural. I dare by living it, all the while secretly questioning and doubting but risking it nevertheless.
Lord, from the beginning you yourself have formed me. It has been your whisper in my soul, the roaring of your love as it rushes through me and fills all the empty places in my heart. It has been you who has instilled the desire and then given me guidance to be able to make it possible. You have shown me how to pray and how to be, it is you who has drawn me into the silence of your heart, who has given me the courage to dare to follow you and who has led me through the crowds. You hold me and cradle me with infinite tenderness. You have given me St. Eugene and his Oblates. So it is thus that we start another day.