Friday, June 29, 2007

The Sweet Death of Monnica

Monnica was a humble hand-maid – uneducated, with a love of wine at a young age. One day she was taunted by a fellow worker about her drinking, and the ridicule stung her deeply. The Lord used this for His purposes, as ‘she saw the evil of her fault and instantly condemned the habit’.

When of marriageable age she was given to a husband. Monnica did her best to win him to God, and even endured his infidelity, hoping for him to receive God’s mercy in repentance.

She persevered in the marriage with endurance and meekness. Toward the end of his earthly life, this worthy wife did gain her own husband for God. Never did Monnica again have the problems with him that she had suffered before he became a believer.

Monnica had a son. He nearly died from a stomach affliction as a young boy – she prayed for his recovery, and he did recover. As a teenager he fell into lust and love for everything but God. He became a brilliant student at a young age, a master of rhetoric. He fell out of his mother’s Christian faith and made philosophy his master. Monnica grieved but persevered in her prayers for his soul. Her tears streamed down, watering the soil under her eyes in every place where she prayed. Oh yes, God heard Monnica.

Her son moved away from home to pursue his studies. He continued to reject his mother’s God.

Her son began to become restless in his academic endeavours. He rejected the philosophy he had previously embraced as his master. He despaired to find truth in the world. He had now escaped the chief lie that had held him back from Christ. Monnica never stopped praying for him. She followed him to his new location. She remained steadfast in her faith.

Eventually by the grace of God, Monnica’s son embraced Jesus Christ as mediator between God and humanity. It was Jesus who called to him, “I am the Way and the Truth and the Life”. He turned to Christ.

Monnica rejoiced.

By now she was weary. She said, “Son, for my part, I have no further delight in anything in this life. What I am to do and why I am here any longer, I do not know. My hopes in this world are accomplished. There was one thing that I longed to see while I lived, and that was for you to be a Christian. My God has been more than generous in giving this to me, for I have seen you despise earthly happiness to become his servant. So now what am I doing here?”

Her son did not remember the answer he gave. It was not more than five days later that she fell sick of a fever. [She briefly] regained consciousness… then looking at her family in their surprised grief, she [said], “Here you will bury your mother”.

On the ninth day of her sickness, in the fifty-sixth year of her life, and the thirty-third year of her son's, her righteous and holy soul was freed from the body.

Her son’s name was Augustine.

[Adapted from Augustine’s Confessions.
The picture is of my mother.]

1 comment:

byron smith said...

Excellent retelling!