I AM TOO YOUNG
Many a young person, when confronted with the thought of his vocation,
puts it out of mind, with the off-hand remark, "Oh, there is plenty of
time to consider that; I am too young, and have had no experience of
the world." This method of procedure is summary, if not judicious, and
it meets with the favor of some parents, who fear, as they think, to
lose their children. It was also evidently highly acceptable to
Luther, who is quoted by Bellarmine as teaching that no one should
enter religious life until he is seventy or eighty years of age.
In deciding a question of this nature, however, we should not allow
our prepossessions to bias our judgment, nor take without allowance
the opinion of those steeped in worldly wisdom, but lacking in
spiritual insight. Father William Humphrey, S.J., in his edition of
Suarez's "Religious Life" (page 49), says: "Looking merely to _natural
law_, it is lawful at any age freely to offer oneself to the perpetual
service of God. There is no natural principle by which should be fixed
any certain age for such an act."
Christ did not prescribe any age for those who wished to enter His
special service, and He rebuked the apostles for keeping children from
Him, saying, "Let the little ones come unto Me." And St. Thomas
(Summa, 2a 2ae, Quaest. 189, art. 5), quotes approvingly the comment
of Origen on this text, viz.: "We should be careful lest in our
superior wisdom we despise the little ones of the Church and prevent
them from coming to Jesus." And speaking in the same article of St.
Gregory's statement that the Roman nobility offered their sons to St.
Benedict to be brought up in the service of God, the Angelic Doctor
approves this practice on the principle that "it is good for a man to
bear the yoke from his youth," and adds that it is in accord with the
usual "custom of setting boys to the duties and occupations in which
they are to spend their life."
The remark concerning St. Benedict recalls to mind the interesting
fact that in olden times, not only boys of twelve and fourteen became
little monks, but that children of three, four or five years of age
were brought in their parents' arms and dedicated to the monasteries.
According to the "Benedictine Centuries," "the reception of a child in
those days was almost as solemn as a profession in our own. His
parents carried him to the church. Whilst they wrapped his hand, which
held the petition, in the sacred linen of the altar, they promised, in
the presence of God and His saints, stability in his name." These
children remained during infancy and childhood within the monastery
enclosure, and on reaching the age of fourteen, they were given the
choice of returning home, if they preferred, or of remaining for life.
[1]
The discipline of the Church, which as a wise Mother, she modifies to
suit the exigencies of time and place, is somewhat different in our
day. The ordinary law now prohibits religious profession before the
age of sixteen; and the earliest age at which subjects are commonly
admitted is fifteen. Orders which accept younger candidates, in order
to train and prepare them for reception, cannot, as a rule, clothe
them with the habit. A very recent decree also requires clerical
students to have completed four years' study of Latin before admission
as novices into any order.
Persons who object to early entrance into religion seem to forget that
the young have equal rights with their elders to personal
sanctification, and to the use of the means afforded for this purpose
by the Church. It is now passed into history, how some misguided
individuals forbade frequent Communion to the faithful at large, and
altogether excluded from the Holy Table children under twelve or
fourteen, and this notwithstanding the plain teaching of the Council
of Trent to the contrary. To correct the error, the Holy See was
obliged to issue decrees on the subject, which may be styled the
charter of Eucharistic freedom for all the faithful, and especially
for children. As the Eucharist is not intended solely for the mature
or aged, so neither is religious life meant only for the decrepit, or
those who have squandered youth and innocence. Its portals are open to
all the qualified, and particularly to the young, who wish to bring
not a part of their life only, but the _whole_ of it, along with
youthful enthusiasm and generosity, to God's service.
How many young religious have attained heroic sanctity which would
never have been theirs had religion been closed against them by an
arbitrary or unreasonable age restriction! A too rigid attitude on
this point would have barred those patrons of youth, Aloysius,
Stanislaus Kostka and Berchmans, from religion and perhaps even from
the honors of the altar. St. Thomas, the great theological luminary of
the Church, was offered to the Benedictines when five years old, and
he joined the Dominicans at fifteen or sixteen; and St. Rose of Lima
made a vow of chastity at five. The Lily of Quito, Blessed Mary Ann,
made the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience before her
tenth birthday, and the Little Flower was a Carmelite at fifteen. And
uncounted others, who lived and died in the odor of sanctity,
dedicated themselves by vow to the perpetual service of God, while
still in the fragrance and bloom of childhood or youth.
"What a pity!" some exclaim, when a youth or maid enters religion.
"How much better for young people to wait a few years and see
something of the world, so they will know what they are giving up."
This is ever the comment of the worldly spirit, which aims to crush
out entirely spiritual aspirations, and failing in that, to delay
their fulfilment indefinitely. And yet the wise do not reason
similarly in other matters. One who proposes to cultivate a marked
musical talent is never advised to try his hand first at carpentering
or tailoring, that he may make an intelligent choice between them. Nor
is a promising law student counselled to spend several years in the
study of engineering and dentistry, to avoid making a possible
mistake. Why then wish a youth, of evident religious inclination, to
mingle in the frivolity and gayeties of the world, with the certain
risk of imbibing its spirit and losing his spiritual relish? "He who
loves the danger," says the Scripture, "will perish in it."
"Yet a vocation should first be tried, and if it cannot resist
temptation, it will never prove constant," is the worn but
oft-repeated reply. As if a parent would expose his boy to contagion to
discover whether his constitution be strong enough to resist it; or
place him in the companionship of the depraved to try his virtue and
see if it be proof against temptation. No, the tender sprout must be
carefully tended, and shielded from wind and storm, until it grows
into maturity. In like manner, a young person who desires to serve
God, should be placed in an atmosphere favorable to the development of
his design, and guarded from sinister influence, until he has acquired
stability of purpose and strength of virtue.
There was once in Rome an attractive Cardinal's page of fourteen who
possessed a sunny and lively disposition. On a solemn occasion his
hasty temper led him to resent the action of another page, and
straightway there was a fight. Immediately, the decorous retinue was
thrown into confusion, and the Cardinal felt himself disgraced. Peter
Ribadeneira, for this was the page's name, did not wait for
developments, he foresaw what was coming and fled. Not knowing where
to go, he bethought himself of one who was everybody's friend,
Ignatius of Loyola, and with soiled face, torn lace and drooping
plume, he presented himself before him. Ignatius received him with
open arms, and placed him among the novices. Poor Peter had a hard
time in the novitiate, as his caprices and boisterousness were always
bringing him into trouble. But when grave Fathers frowned, and the
novices were scandalized, Peter was ever sure of sympathy and
forgiveness from Ignatius, who, in the end, was gratified to see the
boy develop into an able, learned and holy religious. Peter's vocation
was occasioned by his fight, certainly an unpropitious beginning, but
he must have ever been grateful that, when he applied to Ignatius, he
was not turned away until he had become older and more sedate.
Parents or spiritual directors, who, under the pretext of trying a
vocation, put off for two or three years an aspirant who seems dowered
with all necessary qualities, can scarcely justify themselves in the
eyes of God, such a method being calculated to destroy, not prove, a
vocation. To detain for a few months, however, one who conceives a
sudden notion to enter religion, for the purpose of discovering
whether his intention is serious, and not merely a passing whim, is
only in accordance with the ordinary rules of prudence. In connection
with this point, the words of bluff and hearty St. Jerome, who never
seemed to grow old or lose the buoyancy of youth, are often quoted.
Giving advice to one whom he wished to quit the world, he wrote, "Wait
not even to untie the rope that holds your boat at anchor--cut it."
(M. P. L., t. 26, c. 549.) And Christ's reply to the young man, whom
He had invited to follow Him, and who asked leave to go first and bury
his father, was equally terse: "Let the dead bury their own dead."
(Luke ix: 60.)
In a booklet entitled "Questions on Vocations," published in 1913, by
a Priest of the Congregation of the Mission, the question is asked,
"Do not a larger percentage persevere when subjects enter the
religious state late in life?" And the answer is given: "No; the
records of five of the largest communities of Sisters in the United
States show that a much larger percentage of subjects persevere among
those who enter between the ages of sixteen and twenty, than among
those who enter when they are older. When persons are twenty years of
age, or older, their characters are more set; their minds are less
pliable; it is harder to unbend and remould them. The young are more
readily formed to religious discipline."
In concluding this chapter on the appropriate age for entrance into
religious life, it may be said that, after reaching the prescribed age
of fifteen, the sooner an otherwise properly qualified person enters
the nearer he seems to approach the ideals and traditionary practice
of the Church, and the better he will provide for his own spiritual
welfare.
[1] It would seem that for the space of two centuries, this freedom of
choice was not offered them.