THREE MINUTES WITH THE SAINTS
Do You Need Some Inspiration as a Writer? Here’s a Saint Who Can Help
Even the Church knows writers need a patron
Writers will go to radical extremes in the search for inspiration (or worse, to overcome the dreaded and feared writer’s block). From burning incense in front of a marble bust of William Shakespeare to offering rum to one of Hemingway’s six-toed cats at his old house in Key West, the quest for that magical spark never ends. While, sadly, most of these superstitious activities never work (though I still need to get to Key West to check on that one), there is a place you can turn when seeking supernatural aid with your writing, from one of the oldest institutions in the world: the Catholic Church.
I saw some of you roll your eyes, possibly because (like me) the nuns so scarred you in elementary school that the mere sight of a penguin at the zoo causes you to sob hysterically or because you’re an Evangelical who (like my ex-wife) thinks that Pope Francis is a nice guy but still the anti-Christ. Whatever your qualms, hear me out; you don’t have to convert to the Church of Rome to access this assistance (though we will gladly welcome you). You simply need to ask for the intercession of St. Francis de Sales, the patron saint of writers.
If you’ve never heard of St. Francis de Sales, this week’s “Three Minutes with the Saints” installment will fix that, while also (hopefully) helping you with that writer’s block. Francis de Sales was born in the Duchy of Savoy (now southern France) near Geneva on August 1, 1567. He came from a noble family, and it was expected that he would follow his father into a career in law and politics; Francis, however, felt a very different calling. After completing studies at the Universities of Paris and Padua in 1592, he told his father that he wanted to become a priest.
His father was initially opposed to this but relented after the intervention of the Bishop of Geneva (the bishop actually lived in nearby Annecy because Geneva was controlled by Calvinists). He was ordained in 1593, and after a year as provost of the cathedral in Annecy, he was sent in 1594 as a missionary to the Chamblais region, an area recently reclaimed by Savoy after decades of control by the Genevans.
After this lengthy period of Calvinist control, the region’s 60,000 inhabitants had nearly all converted to Calvinism, with only a few Catholics left. Many leaders in Savoy, including his father, favored a forced reconversion to the Church, but Francis disagreed. After meeting little success with his preaching, he changed tactics and instead put his arguments on paper. These tracts, pamphlets, and broadsides explaining the ancient faith to the people were widely distributed and widely read. Roughly four years later, at least 40,000 had responded to his writings and returned to the Catholic faith.
In 1602 he was named Bishop of Geneva (still located at Annecy) and spent the rest of his life working throughout his diocese and writing countless letters of spiritual direction. One set of these letters was brought by a noblewoman to her parish priest, who collected them into the book we now know as The Introduction to the Devout Life.
The Introduction to the Devout Life put forth the revolutionary idea that piety was not reserved for the clergy alone, but that every person could and should live a devout life based on whatever their particular calling in life was. It was hugely popular during his lifetime and remains so today, not just among Catholics but with Christians of all denominations. Two other well-known books of his are The Art of Loving God and The Catholic Controversy, the latter being a collection of the tracts he wrote to the people of Chamblais.
Following a stroke, Francis died at Lyon on December 28, 1622, at the age of 55. It is said his final word was “humility” (something said by no other writer, ever). He was canonized on April 19, 1665, and named a Doctor of the Church in 1877. His feast day is January 24, and he is the patron saint of writers, journalists, and the deaf.
At a time when Europe had been devastated by a century of religious warfare intended to convert opposing sides with the sword, Francis instead took up the pen. He proved that words do indeed have more power than force of arms, an encouragement to writers and a lesson to everyone today. So when you’re looking for inspiration at the keyboard, forget the bust of Shakespeare and have a chat with St. Francis instead.
That’s “Three Minutes with the Saints,” frustrated writers edition. As you go through your busy schedule this week, remember these words of wisdom from French novelist Leon Bloy:
“The only real sadness, the only real failure, the only great tragedy in life, is to not become a saint.”
Have a great week.
If you enjoyed this story, you can support my writing directly by leaving a tip below using the small (and kind of weird) hand icon (you tip waiters and bartenders, so why not writers?).