When my wife and I moved our young family to Thailand almost ten years ago, the most obvious choice for our church was an English-speaking Redemptorist parish in downtown Bangkok, a stone’s throw from the U.S. Embassy, and thus attracting many American expats. I knew nothing about the Redemptorists, nor their founder St. Alphonsus Liguori. Yet it did not take long to appreciate the charism of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, as the Redemptorists are otherwise known. There was confession directly before (and during) every single Mass, meaning the penitent (if he so desired) could always receive the Eucharist, and the parish was admirably invested in ministering to the large asylum-seeker population.
Once, at a parish used book sale, I noticed a lightly-worn copy of the selected writings of St. Alphonsus Liguori, costing the equivalent of less than two dollars. I devoured it every Sunday for months, a remarkable gem of spiritual and moral insights. Why, I wondered, is this eighteenth-century Italian Doctor of the Church so little known, even among devout Catholics, with the intellectually-inclined far more likely to be familiar with the writings of St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Teresa of Avila, or St. Therese of Lisieux? Why “Pints with Aquinas” but no “Coffee with Liguori”; a Thomistic Institute, but no Ligourian one?
Thankfully some Catholics are seeking to rectify this sad disparity. Dan Burke’s Finding Peace in the Storm: Reflections on St. Alphonsus Liguori’s Uniformity with God’s Will and Stephen Kokx’s St. Alphonsus for the 21st Century: A Handbook for Holiness aim to bring the brilliance of St. Alphonsus to contemporary Catholics. Their efforts are long overdue, contributing to what I hope may in time become a broader movement promoting Liguorian studies, similar to the academic interest in Augustinianism or Thomism.
There’s certainly good reason to study Liguori, who, besides founding a religious order, was a prolific writer, composer, musician, artist, philosopher, and theologian. He served as a bishop of Sant’Agata dei Goti , where he addressed clerical abuses, sold his carriage and episcopal ring, and even suspended priests who celebrated the Mass in less than fifteen minutes! He was undoubtedly brilliant: before pursuing a religious vocation, Liguori was a successful lawyer, graduating with doctorates in civil and canon law from the University of Naples at age sixteen.
Liguori was named patron of confessors and moral theologians by Pope Pius XII in 1950. The Church also bestowed upon him the title “Prince of Moral Theologians,” and gave unparalleled latitude to confessors to follow St. Alphonsus’s opinions in regards to morality and spirituality. There is plenty of Liguorian guidance from which to choose: the bishop penned more than one hundred works on spirituality, theology, and mariology (the Blessed Virgin reportedly appeared to him several years after he was ordained a priest).
Dan Burke, a well-known spiritual writer and speaker in his own right, chooses Liguori’s Uniformity with God’s Will for further reflection, offering a commentary of one of Liguori’s most famous texts. Burke explains:
My promise to you, dear reader, is this: if you read this treatise, meditate upon it, and make St. Alphonsus’s thoughts your thoughts, the wind and waves of the storms of life, rather than dashing you against the rocks of despair, will become the means of your ascent up the narrow way to union with God in this life and in the next; and in this life, you will surely know peace in the midst of the storm.
Having just read Liguori’s short book via Burke’s helpful hand, I cannot attest to this promise, though it is undoubtedly a masterpiece of devotional literature.
“The man who follows his own will, independently, of God’s, is guilty of a kind of idolatry,” writes Ligouri. “Instead of God’s will, he adores his own in a certain sense.” That may sound harsh, but is it not true? And this is accurate not only for those who dismissively deny the Christian faith as little more than antiquated superstition, but even for the faithful. How often, I wonder, have I prioritized my own will over Christ, not even necessarily by overt sin, but complaining over the frustrations He sends me, or simply avoiding Christ in prayer and meditation? “If, devout soul, it is your will to please God and live a life of serenity in this world, unite yourself always and in all things to the divine will.”
What this means, as Liguori explains, is to “unite ourselves to whatever dispositions God makes of us.” It’s easy to purport to do this when most everything goes as we expected: we have a productive day at work, no appliances or vehicles malfunction, our conversations with friends and family are pleasant. But what about the days when we suffer even little inconveniences that unnerve us, or interactions that leave us angry and bitter? “It takes saints to unite themselves to God’s will when things go wrong and are painful to self-love,” observes Liguori. “Our conduct in such instances is the measure of our love of God.” That seems to cut to the heart of the matter.
Though St. Alphonsus is never condescendingly shaming, his words have a blunt provocativeness that exposes our self-righteousness and sense of confidence. “While God does not will the sin, He does will our humiliation, our poverty, or our mortification, as the case may be.” It is so simply stated, but so obviously accurate: the events that occasion my weakness and brokenness are actually willed by God to bring about my repentance and self-surrender to Christ. “We must not, therefore, consider the afflictions that come upon us as happening by chance or solely from the malice of men; we should be convinced that what happens, happens by the will of God.”
Someone who appreciates this candidness is Stephen Kokx, a Catholic reporter whose interactions with St. Alphonsus might very well have saved his life, as his book explains through personal testimony that connect with the writings of the saintly Doctor. Amidst debilitating physical illness and frightening spiritual warfare, Kokx encountered St. Alphonsus. “Where has this been my entire life?… Why don’t priests speak like this anymore? When did the Church stop teaching this?” Thankfully, she didn’t—we simply largely forgot about this treasure-chest.
Kokx’s St. Alphonsus for the 21st Century gives the novice an idea of the breadth of Liguori, covering the saint’s writings on perfection, love, prayer, the Eucharist, the religious life, sin, and spiritual warfare. Kokx does a good job of sprinkling beautiful quotations throughout these topics. In his chapter of love, for example, he offers us this gem:
The constant prayer of a Christian soul must be: ‘Jesus, give me Thy holy love; Mary my mother, obtain for me the love of God; my Guardian Angel and all my holy patrons, intercede for me that I may love my God with my whole heart and soul.’ The Lord is generous in the bestowal of His gifts; but He is especially bountiful in giving His love to those who seek it.
It leads one to wonder: how often does our spiritual life suffer deprivation simply by refusing to show up and implore God and the saints for the grace to love Him?
Yet Liguori is not all warm and fuzzy. He elsewhere warns that God has “determined for each one the number of sins to be pardoned him, which being completed, God will pour out His chastisements upon him and pardon him no more.” That’s enough to make anyone indulging in habitual sin to think twice! “He who sins and is determined to sin again and is not desirous at all of repentance is not at all worthy of God’s mercy. God bears our faults for a time but not forever.”
Nevertheless, Liguorian spirituality, even when it engenders a certain bitter remorse in the conscience, is ultimately one of great hope, mercy, and wonder. In his reflections on prayer and the Eucharist, St. Alphonsus writes:
It is not permitted in the world for persons of all ranks to speak alone with kings; but with Jesus Christ, the KIng of kings, both nobles and plebeians, rich and poor, can converse at their will, setting before Him their wants, and seeking His grace; and there Jesus gives audiences to all, hears all, and comforts all.
That is great news, and a reason to run, with all speed and humility to Christ, whether in silent prayer, the Eucharist, or the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Would that all our parishes (and priests) would embrace that dogged determination to reconcile sinners to Jesus that I found in that Redemptorist parish in Bangkok. Perhaps a Liguorian studies program in our institutions of Catholic higher education or seminaries would help us appreciate afresh this ever-profound Italian Doctor of the Church. Burke and Kokx have already helped think through our syllabus.
Finding Peace in the Storm: Reflections on St. Alphonsus Liguori’s Uniformity with God’s Will
By Dan Burke
Sophia Institute Press, 2023
Paperback 143 pages
St. Alphonsus for the 21st Century: A Handbook for Holiness
By Stephen Kokx
Saint Peter’s Press, 2023
Paperback, 184 pages
If you value the news and views Catholic World Report provides, please consider donating to support our efforts. Your contribution will help us continue to make CWR available to all readers worldwide for free, without a subscription. Thank you for your generosity!
Click here for more information on donating to CWR. Click here to sign up for our newsletter.
I’d be interested in hearing more about what prompted Casey to relocate to Thailand.
If readers ever happen to find themselves in Brooklyn , seek out the parish church of Our Lady of Perpetual Help – Redemptorist church – in the Bay Ridge section of the borough. It is a magnificent edifice- almost like those notable Catholic churches in Europe.
Thanks for this article, and I will look up St. Alphonsus Liguori’s writings. My oldest daughter (a professional stage manager) converted to Catholicism in a Redemptorist parish, and what I remember about it is the large number of professional musicians, actors, visual artists, theater professionals, and other artistic people who were members of that parish. The music was glorious–all styles (not just Latin and chant) and both organ, piano, and other instruments were used, including orchestral instruments (strings, horns, percussion, etc). It was a feast for those of us who are artists! I’ve read that other Redemptorist parishes are similar; in fact, at one parish that I visited in another state, the Mass parts were written by the parish music director, and each week, he would write music for the Psalm. I know that there is controversy (at least in the U.S.) about what music is most appropriate for Mass, but for many of us, the standard “traditional Catholic” answer of “GREGORIAN CHANT!” is simply not appealing or realistic-it’s super-hard to learn and do correctly! I know that some Catholics will strongly disagree with me, but as an ex-Evangelical Protestant, I can testify that many of our attendees and members (around 25%) were former Catholics who started coming to our churches because they loved the music (usually a mix of traditional Christian hymns and contemporary praise and worship). Yes, the Catechism states that the best music for Mass is chant, but…it goes on to say that other music is OK with the permission of the bishop. The Redemptorists that I have seen do this very well.
Hmm…This Saint sounds far too “rigid” for the taste of some in our day. Bless all who follow the hard and demanding way. Thanks, Casey, for reminding us all.
I used to sing in a Latin Schola & simple Gregorian Chant is just that: simple. I can’t read the first note of music but I had no trouble following along with most of the chant. When you get into more complicated chant, ok, some passages can be tricky but figure that a great many people back in the day were illiterate & unschooled as far as music notation.
Things like simple chant & shape note music were simple for them to follow, & still are.
I am a Redemptorist Priest.
Why have people not heard of this great saint? Because his theology and spirituality have, for the greater part, been jettisoned by the congregation he founded, and what little remains has been altered by wokism infected with modernism. He is considered by his sons to be passé and old fashioned. His morality is considered constraining and his fidelity to Truth tiresome. He is not preached by his own and has been effectively cancelled for the second time (read his life to learn how he was manipulated and deceived by his confreres in old age).
Today’s Redemptorists are a mere shadow of their forbears. Once known for boldly preaching the Truth of the Faith, they have succumbed to the modern gospel of nice. They might be “on fire” but they do not preach about the singular importance of eternal salvation and the reality of hell and very real danger of eternal damnation as their holy founder did and sent them to do. They are too nice for that. Neither do they strive to root out sin and grow in virtue or work for the one thing necessary—the salvation of souls. Rather they promote social justice and tolerance for their own sake instead of the necessity of the Cross. I could go on.
Many will take exception to what I have written. So be it. But know I write from personal experience and knowledge after over thirty years as a Redemptorist. I strive for fidelity to Christ Who is the only Way, Truth, and Life.
N.B. — I remain anonymous because of severe repercussions that would result. What I have written I have said directly to my confreres and superiors on multiple occasions.
What Chalk found randomly at a book sale was also literally handed over to me in a parking lot about a month ago. Unsolicited, and shelf-filler not really wanted…
But, now, following this article, yours truly has opened the not-large box to find the first half of the complete 22 volumes of “The Complete Works of Saint Alphonsus de Ligouri (Editor Rev. Eugene Grimm, Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, 1926-29). Based on the French translation from the 27 volumes of the Italian.
Lofty and lucid stuff, and I’ve begun to barely dip in, here and there. The Preface is from the 1887 Centenary Edition (one hundred years after the Saint’s death in 1787). Included, and under Pope Pius VII, is a decree (1815) by the Sacred Congregation of Rites—with wording surely intended as much for our as for all times:
“…To adjudge to so great and illustrious a man the honor of the saints, may be regarded in these days a joyful event for the Church, because the faithful may learn therefrom that though the times and years do indeed change and pass away, yet the Church of Christ cannot change nor perish; that the spirit of the holy Fathers has not become extinct; and that the Spouse of Christ never grows old, but amid the perishableness and changeableness of the years is ever blooming in continual youth and beauty. Thence, all those who have the care of souls, and all those who preach the word of God, may learn how very much of that which is noble and salutary in Alphonsus Mary Ligouri they may imitate.”
A compass for “walking together” on the road toward Synod 2024?…
In a letter to the writers of the original Latin edition, Pope Leo XIII quoted the 1815 decree on how Liguori faithfully adapted Catholic truths: “to show to those who wander in the dark night of the world the road by which they may pass from the power of darkness to the light and to the kingdom of God.”
Years ago I read a biography of St. Alphonsus Liguori & he’s been one of my favorite saints ever since. If I hadn’t first known about his life & struggles I might be less likely to read or understand his writings.
To modern ears he seems to go overboard sometimes in his devotions, assuming that’s even possible. But his life & lifestyle bear witness to his balance & sincere humility. The thing I remember most was reading about how he went to a second hand store to buy his pectoral cross when he became a bishop. Who does that?
Simplicity & self denial balanced with lavish devotion to Our Lord & the Blessed Mother make him seem more authentic & approachable. At least to me.
Delighted in this review I ordered the books and was shocked with the Stephen Kokx book. Not a footnote! He quoted the great saint, but did not say from what the quote came from so I could look it up and see it in a larger passage. The Kokx book is really an autobiography (of sorts) centering over and over on himself. He also disparages priests of the non-Latin mass types. I know many fine priests truly spiritual men who love their flocks…Kokx over generalizes. Never a footnote: why he certainly did NOT have me as a teacher in high school.