CHAPTER 6 : FIN DE SIECLE: NEW HORIZONS[1] Back in his native Spain, Alemany, "cum permissu superiorum," took up residence in Valencia in the upstairs of a house diagonally across from the old Dominican church, Nuestra Senora Del Pilar. Adjacent to the church was a former Dominican convent now occupied by soldiers and which Alemany hoped might be restored to its former religious use. Here his dream of a Dominican school specifically for missionaries might begin to be realized: young men receiving a Dominican formation in mind and heart but as oriented to the life of a missionary. A French Dominican, Fr. Albert Gebhart, shared the apartment and acted as Alemany's companion and secretary. The former archbishop, now simply Frater Alemany or Frater Sadoc, O.P., as he signed himself, did daily parochial ministry in the church across the street and worked at trying to get his school --both novitiate and studium -- underway. But on the feast of the Epiphany, January 6, 1888, while hearing confessions before Mass he suffered a stroke. He soon recovered from it sufficiently to continue to work at his project and parochial ministry. After suffering a second stroke, however, he died on April 14, 1888, "at the hour of the evening Angelus." He had wished to be buried in his native city of Vich, and so his body was transported there. With due ceremony and with Canon Narvisso Vilarrasa, nephew of his long time companion, preaching the funeral oration, he was buried in the church of Santo Domingo, where many years before, Brother Sadoc Joseph Alemany had vowed his life to God. The remarkable parallel between the lives of Alemany and Vilarrasa continued even to their deaths. Born but three weeks apart and within only a few miles of each other; both exceptionally small of stature but big in intellect and spirit; professed and ordained within the same week, in the same country, city, church; coming to the eastern United States as co-workers in the Order's newest missionary field; traveling to the "wilds" of California together, and together establishing and nourishing the Order there; and finally dying within only three weeks of each other. The differences between them, though major, served mainly to highlight their profounder commonality, their mutual rootedness and brotherhood in Lord, Church, Order. After Alemany left California, Vilarrasa continued to lead the Dominicans. The matter of parish property and use was settled with Alemany's successor, Archbishop Riordan, who recognized and abided by the rights of religious. The Dominicans could breathe more freely, live their full communal religious life and continue -- less frenetically now that the former prelate's pressure was removed -- to do the preaching and other ministry their specific vocation required of them. The ministry, they realized, was important, and in a missionary country, heavy with materialistic secularism and American Protestant individualism, it was urgent. But equally important and pressing, and precisely for the same reasons, was the contemplative life in which the ministry was to be rooted and toward which it was to point as a witness of the realizability of God's Kingdom here and now. The preaching and ministry, yes, but the prayer, liturgical and private, the quiet joyful study of God's Word, the living together in a brotherly love grounded in the love of God -- here was the beginning and the end of the preaching and its fundamental message. Here would appear to be the explanation of
Vilarrasa's tenaciousness in holding to the monastic, communal side of the Dominican
charism for so long a time -- from his novitiate years till his death -- and for the
backing he received in it from his California brothers with few if any exceptions. It was
a life difficult to maintain, not simply because of the demands of the time and place and
of an exacting, active, missionary bishop such as Alemany, but by reason of its very
nature. The contemplative, interior, "at home" life is undramatic, unnoticed,
and its worth graspable only by a vital faith. Thus the temptation, not only for the
western Dominicans, but perennially for the Order at large, to give up on it and become
merely active. Vilarrasa, along with other devoted Dominicans of the time like Jandel and
Cormier, would see to it that the contemplative soul of Dominican life would not be lost
whatever the temptations and pressures to the contrary. Even the energetically apostolic
Lacordaire, often (wrongly) contrasted with the more monastic Jandel, was severe in his
religious observance -- the totality of his Dominican communal life. "The Rule above
all!" was his remonstrance one day to the only other religious left at home when
others were occupied elsewhere. One of his biographers tells of this particular incident
which he claims encapsulates this aspect of the great preacher's life:
This Dominican, at any rate, one of the
greats whose active ministry accomplished so much in a relatively few years for his
Church, Order and country, would not have been altogether sympathetic with any of his brothers, western or otherwise, who neglected
any aspect of the Rule simply because he happened to be alone! It is often said that Alemany and Vilarrasa, as Lacordaire and Jandel, represented the tension inherent in the Dominican vocation: the one driven by ministry, the other retiring into study and contemplation and monastic discipline. This is not quite true. Bishop Alemany and commissary general Vilarrasa are not to be contrasted as Dominicans, for the simple reason that Alemany in California was not formally a Dominican. He was the devoted prelate of his large archdiocese and all his heart was for the fulfillment of this heavy responsibility. By nature and desire he was, apparently, more active than contemplative -- although in his student days and early priesthood he seems to have relished as well as lived the monastic life; while Vilarrasa, though profoundly appreciative of Dominican ministry, by temperament seems to have been much more the monk than the active preacher. But Alemany, whether as simple Dominican or exalted prelate, could not help agreeing with Vilarrasa on the fundamental value of the contemplative and monastic in the life of a Dominican. For that message was written large in the Constitutions and Acts of the Order and the Acts of each biennial congregation of the California community as well as its later provincial chapters, and it was engraved in the lives of the Saints and Blesseds of the Order. Thus the early brethren in California reverenced Vilarrasa far above their archbishop, and cherished him as their leader through some thirty five years. In him they found the realization and promoter of the full Dominican charism with its proper emphasis. His ideal, and his way of working it out, was what they wanted for themselves, even though they might find that in their given time and circumstances it might not easily be fulfilled.[3] There are few direct testimonies about Vilarrasa's virtues, and nothing about whatever vices he may have had. Upon his death there was no eulogy preached. As mentioned in the Monitor's obituary describing the requiem Mass: "There was no sermon preached, as it is a rule of the Dominicans to have no panegyrics preached at the obsequies of members of the Order." Something of a eulogy did appear, however, but quietly and hidden away in the Acts of the 1888 biennial congregation. A brief summary of his life and work is followed by a more intimate note on his person and his final moments:
There is a more extended and grandiloquent
testimony to Vilarrasa, one delivered not at his death but eight years preceding it when
he celebrated his fiftieth jubilee of religious profession on September 30, 1880. At that
jubilee many of the secular clergy and religious priests and brothers, "besides the
whole Dominican family," were present for the morning solemn high Mass at St.
Dominic's, Benicia, and the afternoon banquet in the monastery garden. "All told
there were about seventy priests and religious" present for the celebration, as
reported in the San Francisco Monitor. It was at the banquet that Father
Antoninus Rooney, O.P., spoke the panegyric that would be lacking eight years later at the
great man's funeral. At such an occasion one would expect to hear of nothing but the
virtues of the honoree, and so it was at this particular celebration. In the regrettably
florid language common to much of the oratory of that time, Fr. Rooney had nothing but
praise for his superior. But precisely because of the nature of the celebration, the
person celebrated, and those present -- especially the many Dominicans who would be quick
to sense the false and the exaggerated about one they knew so well -- we can expect that
Fr. Rooney spoke the truth as he and his brother Dominicans, together with the whole of
that audience, perceived and welcomed it.
Allowing for exaggeration due to time and
circumstance, one cannot escape the simple underlying truth in Rooney's eulogy that for
him and his audience Vilarrasa was a great and holy man, loved and esteemed by his
California brethren universally and by the diocesan clergy generally. And perhaps Rooney
saved for his conclusion that last long sentence quoted above because it was most telling
of Vilarrasa, and what his Dominican brothers most appreciated him for, and wanted him to
continue to be for themselves and for the good of the whole Order and Church. He was a
background man, quietly inspiring and training his men to live the fullness of their
Dominican commitment: "from the fulfillment of the Rules of our holy Order,"
i.e. by living their common religious life, they were to become "fervent and zealous
laborers" in the Church, i.e. preachers after the heart of St. Dominic. Again,
Vilarrasa and the thirty Dominicans in his charge at the time were in complete accord as
to the ideal of their Order and the need to be faithful to it, whatever the difficulties
inherent in the actual living out of it. Upon his death one of Vilarrasa's earliest novices... Notes
to ch. 6. Fin de Siecle: New Horizons
[1]. For Alemany and Vilarrasa, same as above. For Vinyes, WDA
XII:1. For other Dominicans mentioned in this chapter cf. their respective files in WDA
XII, if affiliated to the Western Congregation, or WDA XIII if outside the congregation.
For Vallejo, WDA XI:114, and for other locales, their respective files under Roman numeral
XI. For the San Rafael Sisters, cf. The Dominicans of San Rafael... a Tribute... [2]. H.L. Sidney Lear, Henri Dominique Lacordaire: A
Biographical Sketch, London, 1887, p. 211. Lacordaire's other biographers -- his
disciple, Pere Bernard Chocarne, his lay friends M. Foisset and M. de Montalembert, the
latter entitling his biographical sketch "A Nineteenth-Century Monk" -- all
agree on the intensity of Lacordaire's interior, "monastic" life as both the
source and end of the great man's ministry. And at the heart of all was daily Eucharist.
"Those who assisted frequently at his Mass say they could not help being struck with
the exceeding reverence and thoughtfulness with which it was always said; routine and
daily custom seemed quite unable to deaden the solemnity of the act to him. He might
always have been celebrating his first Mass, it was said by one of his brethren... He
always gave some time after saying Mass to the study of Holy Scripture, which with the
Summa were the only books that might always be found on his table." (ibid., p. 213). [3]. R. Coffey (The American Dominicans...) argues the
contrast (and conflict) between Vilarrasa and Alemany as also between Jandel and
Lacordaire as that of the monastic (contemplative) versus active life. Yet he offers no
hard evidence that Alemany did not value the monastic as fundamental to the Order. He
speaks of Vilarrasa as having been formed at "the militant Convent of La Quercia [in
Viterbo], the bellwether of the nineteenth-century Dominican reform movement" (p.
247), and therefore of the strict monastic persuasion. But Alemany received his initial
formation at Santa Maria dei Gradi also in Viterbo and equally strict with La Quercia. And
as Bishop of Monterey in one of his letters to the Generalate in Rome, Dec. 15, 1850, he
asked that novices for California receive their initial formation in the convent of La
Quercia -- hardly the request of one who lacked an appreciation of good monastic
formation. With regard to the supposed clash between Lacordaire and Jandel, again Coffey
offers no convincing evidence. On the contrary, he speaks of the life-long cordial,
mutually respectful relations between the two; and he concedes that there is not the
slightest suggestion of any disagreement over matters of observance in letters between
Jandel and Lacordaire's devoted "liberal" disciple, successor, and biographer,
Fr. Bernard Chocarne: "No hint of any division of opinion, however, is to be found in
any of the correspondence which Chocarne carried on with Jandel from America. Chocarne
returned to his native France in 1869, and later served for three terms as
provincial" (pp. 384-85). Temperaments and emphases certainly differed and there were
divisions in France as elsewhere in the Order due to disagreement in matters of observance
and ministry. But few if any of the best of the Order denied that authentic Dominican life
demanded both the monastic/contemplative and the active/ ministerial, with the
former as ground and ultimate goal of specifically Dominican ministry. |