St. Walter of Pontoise
Feast day: April 8
Patron: of prisoners; prisoners of war; vintners; invoked against job-related stress
Born in Andainville, Picardy, France, . 1030
Died 1099.
The Bible says that the road to holiness is narrow but it doesn't tell you that the road is straight or clear. Sometimes we need to find our way to God as though following a path through a forest. Sometimes the sun pokes through but often we walk in darkness, not quite knowing whether the destination is near or far. We grope. We trip over debris from dead trees or overgrown vines. We must continue to trust that God is leading us to Himself.
Saint Walter followed a meandering path. He enjoyed his studies and became a professor of rhetoric and philosophy, for which he won success, honor, and praise. But he wasn't happy because he wasn't sure that he was on the right road to God. So, he entered the Benedictine monastery of Rebais-en-Brie Diocese of Meaux with enthusiasm, where he practiced the most severe austerities in the hopes of escaping worldly applause. Each day until his death, Walter added some new practice of penance to his former austerities to remind himself of the obligation of continually advancing in spirit towards God.
At Rebais he found a peasant rotting in the abbey prison. Walter found it inconceivable that one could be kept in a monastery by bonds other than those of love. One night he gave the peasant the key to his fields. In the morning Walter faced the abbot's wrath, an inquisition, confession, and punishment.
After several years in Rebais (1060), Walter was made abbot of a new monastery near Pointoise, which is now called Saint Martin's. King Philip I personally made the investiture, handing him the Cross. The king considered it a bond to him, but Walter coldly placed his hand not under but over the hand of the king, saying: "It is not from you, but from God that I accept the governance of this abbey." Shock and surprise were the rather normal result, how could a man give God precedence over that of an earthly potentate?
Once again Walter enjoyed success, honors, and praise. In order to escape from the accolades, he left his cloister and walked to Cluny, where there were hundreds of monks among whom he could be anonymous. Or, at least, that's what he believed. Unfortunately, he was quickly recognized and compelled to return to Pointoise.
Once again he questioned whether he was on the road to God or the road to perdition. What if God wanted him elsewhere? He tested himself to see if his new vocation was that of a hermit and determined that it was.
One night, Walter, who had gotten into the habit of making escapes, climbed over the abbey wall. He took the road to Touraine to cover his tracks from those who were bound to seek him. In his hermitage, Walter thought he had found heaven on earth. Of course, terrestrial paradises never last for long. Soon the monks of Pointoise found him on an island in the Loire, and led him back to the abbey.
Walter must have been a very lovable character if, each time he disappeared, his monks would seek him out until they discovered him. They must have thought he had a very odd way of practicing stability, but they would not have changed their wandering abbot because he left them only in order to search for God.
The saintly abbot still wanted to flee the admiration of his fellows, but he knew that his monks would eventually catch up with him wherever he roamed. Then he had a brilliant idea: He would make his journey ad limina. He would return his cross to the holy father and at long last he would be free to seek God in his own way. He left for Rome, planning never to return to Pointoise.
God had different plans for Walter. In Rome, he explained his situation to Pope Gregory VII but the saintly pope refused Walter's plea. "Turn back, Father Abbot. From now on you must walk along the roads of the cloister and not along the grand highways of the world."
Was Walter disappointed? He was radiant. For the pope had spoken, and the pope was the spokesman for Jesus Christ. Thus, Jesus had shown him the way. And because, ever since his novitiate, he had searched for God with all his soul and all his heart and even with all his legs, he was given to understand that the image of our life that God fashions is infinitely preferable to the image that we fashion for ourselves.
When we understand that--and when that knowledge sinks from our head into our heart--then there's nothing else to do save go to heaven. Which Walter did on Good Friday in 1099. After diligent scrutiny the bishops of Rouen, Paris, and Senlis declared several miracles wrought at his tomb authentic and translated his relics on May 4. Abbot Walter Montague moved them again in 1655, and richly decorated his chapel. His life was written by a disciple
Feast day: April 8
Patron: of prisoners; prisoners of war; vintners; invoked against job-related stress
Born in Andainville, Picardy, France, . 1030
Died 1099.
The Bible says that the road to holiness is narrow but it doesn't tell you that the road is straight or clear. Sometimes we need to find our way to God as though following a path through a forest. Sometimes the sun pokes through but often we walk in darkness, not quite knowing whether the destination is near or far. We grope. We trip over debris from dead trees or overgrown vines. We must continue to trust that God is leading us to Himself.
Saint Walter followed a meandering path. He enjoyed his studies and became a professor of rhetoric and philosophy, for which he won success, honor, and praise. But he wasn't happy because he wasn't sure that he was on the right road to God. So, he entered the Benedictine monastery of Rebais-en-Brie Diocese of Meaux with enthusiasm, where he practiced the most severe austerities in the hopes of escaping worldly applause. Each day until his death, Walter added some new practice of penance to his former austerities to remind himself of the obligation of continually advancing in spirit towards God.
At Rebais he found a peasant rotting in the abbey prison. Walter found it inconceivable that one could be kept in a monastery by bonds other than those of love. One night he gave the peasant the key to his fields. In the morning Walter faced the abbot's wrath, an inquisition, confession, and punishment.
After several years in Rebais (1060), Walter was made abbot of a new monastery near Pointoise, which is now called Saint Martin's. King Philip I personally made the investiture, handing him the Cross. The king considered it a bond to him, but Walter coldly placed his hand not under but over the hand of the king, saying: "It is not from you, but from God that I accept the governance of this abbey." Shock and surprise were the rather normal result, how could a man give God precedence over that of an earthly potentate?
Once again Walter enjoyed success, honors, and praise. In order to escape from the accolades, he left his cloister and walked to Cluny, where there were hundreds of monks among whom he could be anonymous. Or, at least, that's what he believed. Unfortunately, he was quickly recognized and compelled to return to Pointoise.
Once again he questioned whether he was on the road to God or the road to perdition. What if God wanted him elsewhere? He tested himself to see if his new vocation was that of a hermit and determined that it was.
One night, Walter, who had gotten into the habit of making escapes, climbed over the abbey wall. He took the road to Touraine to cover his tracks from those who were bound to seek him. In his hermitage, Walter thought he had found heaven on earth. Of course, terrestrial paradises never last for long. Soon the monks of Pointoise found him on an island in the Loire, and led him back to the abbey.
Walter must have been a very lovable character if, each time he disappeared, his monks would seek him out until they discovered him. They must have thought he had a very odd way of practicing stability, but they would not have changed their wandering abbot because he left them only in order to search for God.
The saintly abbot still wanted to flee the admiration of his fellows, but he knew that his monks would eventually catch up with him wherever he roamed. Then he had a brilliant idea: He would make his journey ad limina. He would return his cross to the holy father and at long last he would be free to seek God in his own way. He left for Rome, planning never to return to Pointoise.
God had different plans for Walter. In Rome, he explained his situation to Pope Gregory VII but the saintly pope refused Walter's plea. "Turn back, Father Abbot. From now on you must walk along the roads of the cloister and not along the grand highways of the world."
Was Walter disappointed? He was radiant. For the pope had spoken, and the pope was the spokesman for Jesus Christ. Thus, Jesus had shown him the way. And because, ever since his novitiate, he had searched for God with all his soul and all his heart and even with all his legs, he was given to understand that the image of our life that God fashions is infinitely preferable to the image that we fashion for ourselves.
When we understand that--and when that knowledge sinks from our head into our heart--then there's nothing else to do save go to heaven. Which Walter did on Good Friday in 1099. After diligent scrutiny the bishops of Rouen, Paris, and Senlis declared several miracles wrought at his tomb authentic and translated his relics on May 4. Abbot Walter Montague moved them again in 1655, and richly decorated his chapel. His life was written by a disciple
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