A worthy wife brings joy to her husband, peaceful and full is his life…Be he rich or poor, his heart is content, and a smile is ever on his face. (Sir. 26:2-4)
St. Monica was a good and generous wife and mother, and we imagine there was a certain paradoxical peace and steadfast trust in her heart amidst her ceaseless tears of persistent anguish. But as far as imparting this same Christian peace and joy to her family, for most of her married life, St. Monica, for all intents and purposes, was a failure. Of course, there were extraordinarily miraculous conversions that took place later in the lives of her family members: her previously adulterous and ill-tempered husband converted to Christianity on his deathbed; and long after he had left his childhood home, her once-wayward son, St. Augustine, transformed into one of the greatest Christian converts of all time. Their eleventh-hour conversion stories are precisely what bring the rest of us hope for our own “wayward” loved ones—and is the reason we love and admire St. Monica so very much! But let’s understand: for almost her entire life, St. Monica would have felt neither worthy of admiration, nor deserving of praise. She would have felt like a failure as both a wife and mother.
You recall, brothers and sisters, our toil and drudgery. (1 Thes. 2:9)
Monica’s family life could aptly be described as one of “toil and drudgery.” Between her hot-headed husband and her cantankerous mother-in-law with whom they lived, Monica must have felt trapped in a prison sentence of a marriage. This was not an age in which women had the “right” to complain to their husbands, but even if it were, theirs was not the kind of marriage in which the two could talk things through in an effort at compromise. Monica’s husband had no concern about what was best for her, so the mistreatment of his wife at the hand of his mother continued. Besides which, Monica’s husband was busy taking care of his own self-interests, which included philandering with other women. It must have been horribly humiliating for Monica, and as a devout Christian, his behavior must have repulsed her. Still, she was obligated to fulfill her marital duties; as such, from their marriage came three sons.
Whatever joy Monica experienced at the birth of her children would have been tempered by the news that her husband would forbid their sons from receiving the sacrament of baptism. And so would begin another painful, long-enduring suffering in the life of Monica. To endure mistreatment at the hand of her husband and his mother was one thing; but at least her faith told her that this would all pass, and that by persevering in trust, she would one day enjoy her eternal reward. But to know that she might lose her children for eternity? This would have been more than Monica could bear. And so, it would have been perhaps here that Monica’s ministry on earth would begin in earnest. Monica’s vocation would be to save her family through the gift of her tears.
In the end, for those of us who love and cherish and admire St. Monica—especially for wives and mothers who can relate to her pain—let’s understand that the best way to honor her is to imitate her, just as we do the Savior Himself. Does this mean we must spend our days sad and anxious until the day our loved ones convert—even if this does not happen until they draw their dying breath? Of course not. People aren’t converted by sad and anxious people.
It is true, Monica shed countless tears, but the tears she shed were not ones of self-pity, but rather, ones intended to heal. Hers were tears of sorrow that coexisted with great peace—and even great hope in her heart. How do we know this? Because St. Monica’s life, for all intents and purposes, initially appeared to be a failure. On the outside, it seemed as though “nothing” was happening and that God was not listening. By human estimation, Monica should have given up by year two or three of her fifteen-year relentless prayer!
But Monica did not give up. She did not lose hope that God would answer her prayer, in His way and in His time. And the only explanation for her persistence is that the grace of God took hold of her heart, so that it was Him in whom she “live[d] and move[d] and ha[d her] being” (Acts 17:28). Monica would have found her refuge and her peace each time she entered the silent refuge of her heart, for it was there that Jesus Christ was with her, restoring her peace, lifting her up in joy, encouraging her to persevere, and promising her that the plan He had for her family was “for [their] welfare and not for woe, so as to give [them] a future of hope” (Jer. 29:11).
If we ourselves feel as though our lives are neither worthy of admiration nor deserving of praise—if we feel like failures, as St. Monica surely once did—let us remember the outcome of her persistence and faithfulness to prayer. In the end, Monica was indeed that “worthy” wife and mother whose peaceful and steadfast trust eventually won over the hearts of her family, bringing “a smile ever on [their] face.”
Author’s Note: This article was adapted from a chapter in 26 Steps with the Saints: Examining the Lives of the Holy Ones.
Image by Sailko via Wikimedia Commons
