“How blessed are the poor in spirit; the kingdom of Heaven is theirs.”

— Matthew 5:3

 

“Be merry, really merry. The life of a true Christian should be a perpetual jubilee, a prelude to the festivals of eternity.”

— St. Théophane Vénard (1829–1861)

 
 
Bl. Pier-Giorgio Frassati (1901–1925) has become a hero for contemporary Catholics. We recognize that he held himself to a high Christian ideal, while pursuing the same pleasures that we enjoy. We gravitate to this handsome and charming saint, who organized mountain climbing expeditions and parties for his friends. And who at the same time delighted in reciting the poetry of Dante, praying the rosary in his booming voice, and spending a night in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.

Pope John Paul II and his biographers celebrate Pier-Giorgio as a man of the Beatitudes. That he was poor in spirit and pure of heart was obvious to all, but he manifested these divine qualities in a very balanced and human way. Athletic and strong, he devoted himself to the weak and malformed. He was wealthy, but he lived in poverty so he could give everything to the poor. He was gregarious, but a lover of solitude. He was rambunctious, the life of every party and a practical joker, but at prayer he was solemn, reflective and quiet.

One of my favorite photographs of Pier-Giorgio shows him descending an Alpine mountain, smiling with a pipe in his mouth. He used to quip that he liked smoking because his mother had smoked cigars when she nursed him. Another of my favorites has him and several buddies cheerfully dragging a barrel of wine to some festivity. But I also carry in my memory the testimony of his friend who reported that when Pier-Giorgio left a church after an hour of prayer, he would turn and give a little wave towards the tabernacle. I regard that affectionate gesture as emblematic of his closeness to Jesus.

We love Pier-Giorgio because, unlike other saints who appear to us to be otherworldly, we regard him as “normal.” As it did for his friends, the saint’s normalcy persuades us that we can live the Christian life in our thoroughly secularized world. We can freely imitate his piety that centered on the Eucharist, Scripture, and Mary. His selfless care for the poor challenges us to dedicate ourselves to Christian service. One biographer called Pier Giorgio an “ordinary” Christian, but if so, being an ordinary Christian means putting God first in everything and spending yourself entirely for others.

Bl. Pier-Giorgio models joy for us because he bore great sorrows joyfully beneath the enthusiastic surface of his service, friendships, politics, sport, and fun. His happiness did not depend upon externals. Rather his joy stemmed from an intimate relationship with Jesus, which enabled him to be happy in the midst of painful circumstances, especially in his difficult relationship with his parents. “My life is monotonous,” he once said, “but each day I understand a little better the incomparable grace of being a Catholic. Down, then, with all melancholy. That should never find a place except in the heart which has lost faith. I am joyful. Sorrow is not gloom. Gloom should be banished from the Christian soul.”