Feast Day: January 31st
The words that follow are not my own, but from the saint we celebrate this week, Fr. Don Bosco, on May 30th, 1862, who told the following to his beloved sons in the Salesian Order (which he had founded):
I want to tell you a dream. It is true that he who is dreaming is not reasoning, anyway I—who would even tell you my sins if I were not afraid that they would make you all run away and make the house tumble down—will tell you this for your spiritual profit. I had the dream some days ago.
Imagine yourselves to be with me on the seashore, or better, on an isolated rock and not to see any patch of land other than what is under your feet. On the whole of that vast sheet of water you see an innumerable fleet of ships in battle array. The prows of the ships are formed into sharp, spearlike points so that wherever they are thrust they pierce and completely destroy. These ships are armed with cannons, with lots of rifles, with incendiary materials, with other arms of all kinds, and also with books, and they advance against a ship very much bigger and higher than themselves and try to dash against it with the prows or to burn it or in some way to do it every possible harm.
As escorts to that majestic fully equipped ship, there are many smaller ships, which receive commands by signal from it and carry out movements to defend themselves from the opposing fleet. In the midst of the immense expanse of sea, two mighty columns of great height arise a little distance, the one from the other. On the top of one, there is the statue of the Immaculate Virgin, from whose feet hangs a large placard with this inscription: Auxilium Christianorum – “Help of Christians”, on the other, which is much higher and bigger, stands a Host of great size proportionate to the column and beneath is another placard with the words: Salus Credentium – “Salvation of the Faithful.”
The supreme commander on the big ship is the Sovereign Pontiff. He, on seeing the fury of the enemies and the evils among which his faithful find themselves, determines to summon around himself the captains of the smaller ships to hold a council and decide on what is to be done. All the captains come aboard and gather around the Pope. They hold a meeting, but meanwhile the wind and the waves gather in storm, so they are sent back to control their own ships. There comes a short lull. For a second time the Pope gathers the captains together around him, while the flagship goes on its course. But the frightful storm returns. The Pope stands at the helm and all his energies are directed to steering the ship towards those two columns, from the top of which and from every side of which are hanging numerous anchors and big hooks, fastened to chains. All the enemy ships move to attack it, and they try in every way to stop it and to sink it. Some with writings or books or inflammable materials, of which they are full, others with guns, with rifles and with rams. The battle rages ever more relentlessly.
The enemy prows (battering rams on the front of the ships) thrust violently, but their efforts and impact prove useless. They make attempts in vain and waste all their labor and ammunition, the big ship goes safely and smoothly on its way. Sometimes it happens that, struck by formidable blows, it gets large, deep gaps in its sides, but no sooner is the harm done than a gentle breeze blows from the two columns and the cracks close up and the gaps are stopped immediately. Meanwhile, the guns of the assailants are blown up, the rifles and other arms and prows are broken, many ships are shattered and sink into the sea. Then, the frenzied enemies strive to fight hand to hand, with fists, with blows, with blasphemy and with curses.
All at once, the Pope falls gravely wounded. Immediately, those who are with him run to help him and they lift him up. A second time the Pope is struck, he falls again and dies. A shout of victory and of joy rings out amongst the enemies, from their ships an unspeakable mockery arises. But hardly is the Pontiff dead than another Pope takes his place. The pilots, having met together, have elected the Pope so promptly that the news of the death of the Pope coincides with the news of the election of the successor. The adversaries begin to lose courage. The new Pope, putting the enemy to rout and overcoming every obstacle, guides the ship right up to the two columns and comes to rest between them. He makes it fast with a light chain that hangs from the bow to an anchor of the column on which stands the Host, and with another light chain which hangs from the stern, he fastens it at the opposite end to another anchor hanging from the column on which stands the Immaculate Virgin.
Then a great convulsion takes place. All the ships that until then had fought against the Pope’s ship are scattered, they flee away, collide and break to pieces one against another. Some sink and try to sink others. Several small ships that had fought gallantly for the Pope race to be the first to bind themselves to those two columns. Many other ships, having retreated through fear of the battle, cautiously watch from far away the wrecks of the broken ships having been scattered in the whirlpools of the sea, they in their turn sail in good earnest to those two columns, and, having reached them, they make themselves fast to the hooks hanging down from them and there they remain safe, together with the principal ship, on which is the Pope. Over the sea there reigns a great calm.
Fr. Bosco asked Don Rua, “What do you think of the story?” and the other priest offered this evaluation: “It seems to me that the Pope’s ship might mean the Church, of which he is the head. The ships, men, the sea, this world. Those who defend the big ship are the good, lovingly attached to the Holy See. The others are her enemies, who try with every kind of weapon to annihilate her. The two columns of salvation seem to be devotion to Mary Most Holy and to the Blessed Sacrament of the Eucharist.”
“You are right!” our saint replied, “Only I ought to correct one expression. The enemy ships are persecutions. The most serious trials for the Church are near at hand. That which has been so far is almost nothing in the face of that which must befall. Her enemies are represented by the ships that tried to sink the principal ship if they could. Only two means are left to save her amidst so much confusion: DEVOTION TO MARY MOST HOLY and FREQUENT COMMUNION, making use of every means and doing our best to practice them and having them practiced everywhere and by everybody.”
– Fr. Dominic Rankin has often seen a minor version of the Eucharistic miracle given to Don Bosco. The saint was offering Mass for 360 boys in 1848 and realized that he only had 8 consecrated hosts in the tabernacle (rather than the hundreds they had expected). He calmly took the ciborium, began to distribute Jesus to all, and never fell short! His server, Guiseppe Buzzetti, testified to the miracle. I have never had that much of a shortfall, but it is uncommonly often that it appears that we will never have enough hosts at Mass, and yet there is always enough. Praise God!