The Incorrupt Body of the Saint
The Secret of the
Curé de Ar
Compiled, Partially Adapted, and Arranged
by Pauly Fongemie

SOURCE USED:

Cited directly from:

The Curé of Ars, Patron Saint of Parish Priests
Fr. Bartholomew O'Brien
with Imprimatur and Nihil Obstat, 1956
TAN BOOKS


+ + + + + + +

HIS DEATH

In the last year of his life, an old-time friend, the holy and apostolic Pauline Jaricot, visited him. Providence seemed to have abandoned her at this period of life, leaving her in a pitiable and impoverished condition. No doubt this was the price she had to pay to win the blessings of God in the years to come for the great society she inspired---The Propagation of the Faith. The good Curé, touched by her destitution, tried to make her comfortable as well as comfort her. "I beseech you;" Pauline pleaded, "do not think of the cold. I am used to it. It will be much better if you warm my soul with a few sparks of faith and hope:" His visit with her was short. Pilgrims were coming. Thousands of them! They feared the Curé's life was near its end, and they longed at least to see, to touch, to hear him---possibly to speak with him and receive from him absolution before the end. So the Curé blessed Pauline, gave her a wooden cross as a silent symbol of resignation, and returned to his post in the confessional. The summer of 1859 in Ars was stifling. The hot July air in the little church seemed thick and sour from the crowds that gathered---for a last time, because they knew the Curé's time was short. The Curé suffered cruelly; he had fainted several times, and yet, the people came. "Ah;" he said in his faint whisper, "sinners will kill the sinner." He was now over seventy-three years old, having spent forty-one years at Ars. Friday, July 29, 1859, was Father Vianney's last day of full duty as the parish priest of Ars. He was faithful to duty to the end because he once said, "I know not whether I have properly discharged my duty ... Oh, how I fear death! Ah! I am a great sinner!" At one o'clock in the morning, as usual, he went to his post in the confessional. The Confessions were endless, and the air in the church seemed to be on fire. Over and over again, attacks of suffocation seized him; fever, burning and burning again, compelled him to leave the church---but for only a moment's rest. At eleven o'clock he gave his catechism lesson. No one heard him, but everyone knew he was preaching on his favorite subject: love for Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, because he kept turning to the tabernacle, weeping as he preached---preaching with his eyes more than with his lips. Then back again to the confessional. There he spent the afternoon and the evening; and when the hour was late, fully worn out, and leaning on the arm of Brother Jerome, he left his little church. He left the altar, his pulpit, his confessional, his dear Philomena and all his saintly friends: Our Lady and St. Joseph, and trudged wearily back to his rectory---never again to return. On Saturday, July 30, the Curé of Ars did not rise from his bed. One o'clock came, but there was no Curé in church. He called for someone, and faithful Catherine Lassagne hurried in. "It is my poor end," the Curé whispered. "Go and call my confessor." "I shall send for the doctor;" said Catherine. "It is useless. The doctor can do nothing." "St. Philomena will cure you," hopefully suggested the weeping Father Toccanier. "Oh," sighed the Curé, "St. Philomena can do nothing now!"   This time, in his last hour, the enemy was not permitted to tempt the poor Curé. He did not seem to suffer as he did in 1843. All seemed so peaceful! Even the horrible fear of death that had beset him his whole life long had vanished. "How sweet it is to die," he once had said, "if one has lived on the cross!" Soon Father Beau, his faithful confessor for over thirteen years, arrived and heard his last Confession. Dr. Saunier, who had treated him in 1843, came; and there also came a Sister of St. Joseph who brushed away the flies from his face, bathed in perspiration. "Leave me with my poor flies," he seemed to say; "the only thing that worries me is sin." All his dear friends gathered: Catherine, who was ever loyal; his good teaching Brothers, Athanase and Jerome; his beloved assistant, Father Toccanier; the members of the des Carets family, to whom he had been a father; his penitents, parishioners, and pilgrims. They forced their way into his room. "He was our parish priest before he became yours," they argued with Brother Athanase who was acting as guard as they poured into the room. Those who could not enter knelt outside. Now and then a small bell tinkled. It told them that someone was lifting the Curé's arm in blessing.   On Tuesday, August 2, Father Beau made his way through the weeping crowd as he carried Holy Viaticum to his saintly penitent. Some twenty priests walked in procession carrying lighted tapers. "How kind the good God is," murmured the Curé. "When we are no longer able to go to Him, He Himself comes to us!" Having hoped against hope that St. Philomena would miraculously intervene for the cure of her cherished priest, Father Beau had put off Extreme Unction. Finally, the Curé had insisted on the Last Sacraments. He received them with the faith of a Saint. As he lingered on, someone broached the subject of his place of burial. Weak as he was, on Wednesday the Curé was approached. "At Ars ..." he whispered. "... my body is not much." His Bishop came, embraced him but said little. Father Vianney smiled. At ten o'clock that night, his assistant gave him the apostolic blessing and the plenary indulgence. By midnight, the fast-failing Curé still had strength to recite the prayers for the dying. He kissed the missionary cross fervently and grasped it firmly as he waited for His beloved Master. Thursday, August 4, 1859, came. Conscious and at peace, the Curé rested in the arms of Brother Jerome. Each minute, each second seemed his last. At two o'clock, worn out, he who had borne the burden of the day's heat, even from the first hour in the Master's vineyard, fell asleep. Worthy of his hire, John Marie Vianney, the Curé of Ars was born in Heaven.

VIEW THE CURRENT RELIQUARY OF THE SAINT'S BODY


Contact Us

HOME-----------PRIESTS-------------SAINTS

www.catholictradition.org/Priests/vianney10C.htm