St. Monica (Monnica)

Today is a special day in our family, as it is the feast day of St. Monica (or Monnica). Monica is the name my beloved chose for her confirmation in The Episcopal Church eleven years ago.  So, in good fashion we are going to celebrate her feast day tonight by having tamales, margaritas, and taking in the Illinois Symphony Orchestra concert.  I know, Monica was from North Africa, but my beloved is heading to Mexico in a month for a month, so we are on a bit of a kick right now.

St. Monica was born around 331 in North Africa, and later married a certain Patricius who was a pagan from Tagaste (probably modern Algeria).  As she grew in her faith, she eventually brought her husband to Christianity as well.  She was particularly known for her life of prayer in her later years.   One of her sons, Augustine, was ambitious to be a rhetorician, and spent the early part of his life searching the various religions for truth and beauty.  He dabbled in Manichaeism and was known for living a dissolute and disordered life.

Monica’s prayer was for the conversion of her son, and in 387, Ambrose of Milan baptized Augustine.  Augustine, of course, went on to be one of the greatest preachers and theologians of the Post-Nicene era, and his feast is celebrated on August 28.

Stephen Adly Guirgis in his play The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, portrays Monica as a streetwise, foul mouthed, “Saint” who says, "people in heaven don't want to hang with me 'cause they say I’m a nag. It’s true.  You know what I say to that? I say—‘cause I am a nag. And if I wasn’t a nag, I wouldn’t have made it to be no saint, and the Church wouldn’t have no father of the Church named St. Augustine...And when he started messing up, like all the time and constantly, I nagged God---to save him.  I nagged and nagged and nagged, till God got so tired of my ---- that he did save my son.”   This does seem to sum up Monica’s prayer life, a continual appeal to God that her son would come to faith, and a prayer that was answered in time.  I know, the language is rough, and St. Monica, from what we can tell was not a foul mouthed, street wise, Jersey Girl (think a really bad Rizzo), but the play is a good one.  I will not give away the ending.

Here is a reflection on St. Monica in the words of her son from The Christian Classics Ethereal Library edition of St. Augustine’s Confessions, Book IX.13:

But now, with a heart cured of that wound, wherein it might seem blameworthy for an earthly feeling, I pour out unto Thee, our God, in behalf of that Thy handmaid, a far different kind of tears, flowing from a spirit shaken by the thoughts of the dangers of every soul that dieth in Adam. And although she having been quickened in Christ, even before her release from the flesh, had lived to the praise of Thy name for her faith and conversation; yet dare I not say that from what time Thou regeneratedst her by baptism, no word issued from her mouth against Thy Commandment. Thy Son, the Truth, hath said, Whosoever shall say unto his brother, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire. And woe be even unto the commendable life of men, if, laying aside mercy, Thou shouldest examine it. But because Thou art not extreme in enquiring after sins, we confidently hope to find some place with Thee. But whosoever reckons up his real merits to Thee, what reckons he up to Thee but Thine own gifts? O that men would know themselves to be men; and that he that glorieth would glory in the Lord.

I therefore, O my Praise and my Life, God of my heart, laying aside for a while her good deeds, for which I give thanks to Thee with joy, do now beseech Thee for the sins of my mother. Hearken unto me, I entreat Thee, by the Medicine of our wounds, Who hung upon the tree, and now sitting at Thy right hand maketh intercession to Thee for us. I know that she dealt mercifully, and from her heart forgave her debtors their debts; do Thou also forgive her debts, whatever she may have contracted in so many years, since the water of salvation. Forgive her, Lord, forgive, I beseech Thee; enter not into judgment with her. Let Thy mercy be exalted above Thy justice, since Thy words are true, and Thou hast promised mercy unto the merciful; which Thou gavest them to be, who wilt have mercy on whom Thou wilt have mercy; and wilt have compassion on whom Thou hast had compassion.

And, I believe, Thou hast already done what I ask; but accept, O Lord, the free-will offerings of my mouth. For she, the day of her dissolution now at hand, took no thought to have her body sumptuously wound up, or embalmed with spices; nor desired she a choice monument, or to be buried in her own land. These things she enjoined us not; but desired only to have her name commemorated at Thy Altar, which she had served without intermission of one day: whence she knew the holy Sacrifice to be dispensed, by which the hand-writing that was against us is blotted out; through which the enemy was triumphed over, who summing up our offences, and seeking what to lay to our charge, found nothing in Him, in Whom we conquer. Who shall restore to Him the innocent blood? Who repay Him the price wherewith He bought us, and so take us from Him? Unto the Sacrament of which our ransom, Thy handmaid bound her soul by the bond of faith. Let none sever her from Thy protection: let neither the lion nor the dragon interpose himself by force or fraud. For she will not answer that she owes nothing, lest she be convicted and seized by the crafty accuser: but she will answer that her sins are forgiven her by Him, to Whom none can repay that price which He, Who owed nothing, paid for us.

May she rest then in peace with the husband before and after whom she had never any; whom she obeyed, with patience bringing forth fruit unto Thee, that she might win him also unto Thee. And inspire, O Lord my God, inspire Thy servants my brethren, Thy sons my masters, whom with voice, and heart, and pen I serve, that so many as shall read these Confessions, may at Thy Altar remember Monnica Thy handmaid, with Patricius, her sometimes husband, by whose bodies Thou broughtest me into this life, how I know not. May they with devout affection remember my parents in this transitory light, my brethren under Thee our Father in our Catholic Mother, and my fellow-citizens in that eternal Jerusalem which Thy pilgrim people sigheth after from their Exodus, even unto their return thither. That so my mother's last request of me, may through my confessions, more than through my prayers, be, through the prayers of many, more abundantly fulfilled to her.

I would encourage you to read Book IX, chapters 8-13 for a deeper understanding of St. Monica.

Excavations in Ostia have uncovered her original tomb, although here remains were translated to the Church of St. Augustine, Rome, in 1430.

For a different short biography read here.

The Collect for St. Monica (Lesser Feasts & Fasts 2006)

O Lord, through spiritual discipline you strengthened your servant Monnica to persevere in offering her love and prayers and tears for the conversion of her husband and of Augustine their son: Deepen our devotion, we pray, and use us in accordance with your will to bring others, even our own kindred, to acknowledge Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.