Dr. Peter Kreeft, in his book Angels (and Demons) — What Do We Really Know About Them?, reminds us that angels often come to us in unrecognizable ways. As Scripture warns: “Do not neglect hospitality, for some have entertained angels unawares.” (Hebrews 13:2)
We hear stories all the time, some even touching our own lives, of mysterious strangers coming to the aid of accident victims, lost hikers, and other distressed individuals. Many times these “helpers” disappear from the scene as quickly as they arrive.
In the lives of the saints, the Church has recorded many similar encounters in which angels–under disguised forms–have intervened in the lives of humans. I wrote about one here not too long ago: St. John Bosco and the big gray dog. (Guess which one was the angel.)
Another one comes to mind in which the angel this time appeared in the form of a beggar to St. Gregory the Great. Lucky for Gregory (and all of us who have benefitted from his historical actions), the great Pope treated the “beggar” with Christian charity and kindness over and above what was expected of him.
In honor of St. Gregory's death anniversary (March 12), here’s an excerpt from my book, Partners in Holiness, that tells the story of that miraculous encounter:
We hear stories all the time, some even touching our own lives, of mysterious strangers coming to the aid of accident victims, lost hikers, and other distressed individuals. Many times these “helpers” disappear from the scene as quickly as they arrive.
In the lives of the saints, the Church has recorded many similar encounters in which angels–under disguised forms–have intervened in the lives of humans. I wrote about one here not too long ago: St. John Bosco and the big gray dog. (Guess which one was the angel.)
Another one comes to mind in which the angel this time appeared in the form of a beggar to St. Gregory the Great. Lucky for Gregory (and all of us who have benefitted from his historical actions), the great Pope treated the “beggar” with Christian charity and kindness over and above what was expected of him.
In honor of St. Gregory's death anniversary (March 12), here’s an excerpt from my book, Partners in Holiness, that tells the story of that miraculous encounter:
St. Gregory and the Beggar
Silvia read the letter a second time. She was not surprised that her son, Gregory, was ill. His severe fasts were well known among the religious communities in and around Rome. Silvia's convent was near the monastery of St. Andrew, where Gregory lived with his fellow monks.
If only I could tend to him myself, she thought. I can't bear to lose him so soon after Gordianus.
Tears welled up in her eyes at the memory of her dear husband. She recalled how after his death people she thought were her friends called her crazy for wanting to enter a convent. Why would anyone, they argued, want to trade a luxurious estate on Rome's prestigious Caelian Hill for a secluded cell in a nunnery? Silvia had not been able to answer her critics. The love she felt for Christ and her desire to dedicate the rest of her life to Him were feelings she was unable to describe.
But she never had to explain herself to Gregory. His own passion to serve God, if anything, surpassed her own. The seven monasteries he founded with his inheritance money were proof of his zeal.
No, Silvia had no misgivings about leaving her wealth behind. But now she was glad that she had saved one small keepsake from all her former possessions. It was a handsome silver dish, and she knew just what she was finally going to do with it.
