When most Catholics lose something, they often pray to St. Anthony of Padua. “Anthony, Anthony, come around, something is lost and cannot be found!” If you quite friendly terms, you might even say, “Tony, Tony, come around…” People turn to St. Anthony to find everything from lost keys to lost souls. It is said that there is not a Catholic Church in the world that does not have an image of Saint Anthony.
How this 13th century Franciscan priest, our patron, became director of the heavenly lost and found department goes back to an incident in his life, when a friar, a novice of the Order, stole his book of Psalms. We have to remember that books were quite rare and therefore very precious in the 13th century. Anthony who thought he had merely misplaced it, prayed that he might find it. His prayers brought a repentant novice to return the stolen book.
But of course, this is not the basis of Anthony’s sanctity. As we read about his all too short life, (He died at the age of 36), we discover the many reasons for his renown. Today, I’d like to cite just one:His docility, his receptivity and openness to the Word of God. He did not allow the manuscripts of God’s Word to collect dust in the friary. He opened them and his mind and heart devoured what they contained.
From his earliest days in his native Portugal, Ferdinand, (this is his baptismal name) allowed his entire being to be formed by the Word of God. He is so often depicted with a Bible in his hand, where he found the light and strength to deal with all the twists and turns his life took. His docility allowed him to see God at work in his life even when things were not going according to his plan. At times, I am sure he did not understand or was puzzled, but he did not rebel. St. Anthony could certainly say, “If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans.”
He desired a life of solitude and scholarship with the Augustinians, but this was not to be. His relentless and boisterous visitors disturbed convent life and so he asked to be transferred far away. There God intervened. At the monastery witnessing a funeral procession of five Franciscans, martyred in Morocco, Ferdinand, left the Augustinians to become a Franciscan missionary to Morocco so that we could offer his own life for Christ. He took the name Anthony and was sent to Morocco, but God had other plans for Anthony. Martyrdom is not for everyone! Anthony’s storm-tossed ship veered off course and landed in Sicily.
He became ill— not because his landed in Sicily, but because he always had a weak constitution] In Italy, the Franciscans restored him to health but did not send him to Morocco but to Padova—not Anthony’s plan but God’s.
In Padova, the humble Anthony kept his scholarly and oratorical gifts hidden. Not expecting much from Anthony, he was assigned to kitchen duty. But God’s plan was unfolding. At an ordination celebration where no friar came forward to speak, the superior offered Anthony the opportunity. It was in that discourse, that the greatness of Anthony was revealed. Over and over Anthony must have clung to the Lord’s words: “Do not be afraid, I am with you.” He was docile, and allowed himself to be led by God’s word, not his own.
He was ordered to retire his apron and put aside the “Brillo” pads to begin the ministry of rigorous teaching and fiery preaching—a ministry that would attract the indifferent, convert the hostile, inspire the faithful—a ministry that would bring him to be named a “Doctor of the Church” This was the Lord’s plan for Anthony, so different from his own desires and ambitions.
Yes, we can always go to Saint Anthony when we lose something, but let us also turn to him in those moments when we find our lives turned upside down, when life takes us in new and unexpected directions, when our plans are disrupted, when we must face the losses and struggles that come from change. He will be quick to come to our aid, he will be quick to lead us to God’s Word and to the Eucharist.
