A Lesson From Saint Agnes of Montepulciano

For me personally, the hagiography of medieval mystics can sometimes blend together and seem archaic. For Saint Agnes of Montepulciano, we hear a seemingly all-too-familiar story of a young Italian girl who wants to give her life to Jesus and becomes a religious at a young age. A miraculous sign then confirms the vocation. Then, throughout her religious life, initially as a Franciscan, she becomes a mystic, where the Blessed Mother visits her frequently; she even gets to hold baby Jesus on one occasion. We hear that her spiritual maturity is ahead of her time as she becomes superior at the age of fifteen and performs miracles left and right.

Doesn’t this sound like any other story of a medieval Italian nun/sister? Sure does to me.

Sister Agnes has an interesting detail of her miraculous life that strikes me: when she was a girl, a group of crows viciously attacked her. Their claws tore her apart, and their beaks brutally punctured her whole body. After her mother got rid of them, they interpreted the incident as demons attacking little Agnes for her purity and her future vocation as a holy religious and superior. Years later, the Blessed Virgin handed Sister Agnes three stones that would be the foundation stones of the Dominican convent she would establish, right on the spot of the attack.

I am 24 years old and, of course, a novice in Dominican life. My generation finds itself cripplingly worried about the future. For those who do not know Jesus (and certainly including those who do), anxieties about the future usually involve things like career, money, possessions, IRAs, politics, etc. For those who are faithfully Catholic, the questions concern "discerning my vocation," finding a suitable spouse, sufficient growth in the spiritual life (Pelagian much?), what assignments we’ll have once we reach ordination, etc. For people in their twenties, we can easily idolize our futures.

I think Saint Agnes of Montepulciano wanted to teach me how beautifully the Lord ends our stories. In the end, He always triumphs and includes us in the victory. In order for that to happen, however, He has to write the story. When I try to write my own story (the “Ego-Drama”), that’s where I find myself pitifully failing. When I allow God to write my story (the “Theo-Drama”), ten out of ten times He writes a better story than I ever could.

When little Agnes was tending her wounds (imagine showering with a torn-up body, or how her school friends probably made fun of her) after her attack, I can imagine how much she did not want her story to be written this way. It wasn’t until the end of her life, when she saw the glorious cornerstone of her newfound convent put in place, that she triumphed over her demons and realized the beautiful ending to the Theo-Drama in her own life.

So, who will be the author of your story?