St. Rose of Lima and the Call of Community

My parish is dedicated to St. Rose of Lima. We joined in 2020, for a variety of reasons, and have quickly been absorbed into parish life. I bake with our bread-baking, ministry-funding guild. My husband sings in the choir.

These days, the Sunday morning Mass is a tightly packed conglomeration of young, mostly rural families and older, in-town couples. Though the townies have been consistent members of the parish for years and many of the rural families are relatively new, we’ve built a cohesive community. Maybe in part because our priest works hard to create a harmonious parish, and in part because the parishioners radiate that New England, reserved hospitality that makes falling into casual affection so easy. Whatever it is, we’ve settled into a lovely little community and suddenly, instead of being simply parishioners, we’re volunteers. People come to us with questions about this or that event. It’s a little overwhelming at times.

In fact, it reminds me of the hermits – Fiacre, Meinrad, Anthony, Grwst; and of course, Benedict. Everyone deals with the demands of community life differently. I tend to sympathize with those who retreat deeper into the desert or onto high, rocky ledges where communities can’t follow. And maybe, someday, that’ll be my path. But right now, with a little family and a lovely parish, it’s important to follow the path of engagement. So this month we’re helping with the parish Assumption Mass and Blessing of Herbs, answering questions about the Assumption picnic, and helping to make tiny bundles of local herbs to share with people who don’t have any of their own. We’re also preparing to celebrate the parish feast day on August 23rd.

St. Rose of Lima

I didn’t know much about St. Rose before joining the parish. I’d heard that she burned her face with pepper juice to keep away suitors, and that she was one of the earliest canonized saints in the New World, but other than that, St. Rose was a mystery to me.

But our little parish has quite a devotion to her, so I learned quickly.

St. Rose is actually the first person born in the Americas to be canonized. She was born in Lima, Peru in 1586, when the country was still under the control of the Spaniards. Her name was Isabel Flores de Oliva, but according to legend, her nurse saw her face transformed into a rose when Isabel was just an infant. That incident, combined with Isabel’s natural beauty quickly earned her the nickname Rosa (or Rose).

Little Rosa spent her youth longing to join the Dominicans. She was especially inspired by St. Catherine of Sienna. Like St. Catherine, Rosa began fasting often and practicing what penances she could in secret. At her Confirmation, she took the name of Rosa, formalizing her nickname, and her devotion to Mary.

Unusual for the time, St. Rose was able to receive Communion daily. In the 16th century, while most Catholics still attended daily Mass, they rarely received Communion. It was far more common to see long lines at the Confessional and short ones at the Communion rail. Daily Communicants were especially rare and often needed special permission to receive Christ so often. St. Rose’s bishop, St. Toribio de Mogrovejo, probably supported Rosa in her desire to receive Communion at daily Mass.

Her parents wanted her to marry, and her beauty attracted plenty of suitors; but Rosa insisted on a life of chastity, devoted to Christ. To keep away suitors, she cut off her long hair and rubbed her face with hot peppers to make it rashy and blotchy. The men were deterred, and her father gave in to his daughter’s wishes. He gave her a room of her own in the family house and allowed her to follow her heart. Rosa quickly gave up eating meat entirely (a rare practice in 16th century Peru), devoted herself to the poor in her community, and continued increasing the severity of her devotions.

She longed to join an order of Dominicans, but her parents were completely against it. So she became a Third Order Dominican, like her beloved Catherine of Sienna. When she died in 1617, at the age of 31, she was so well known around the city as a holy woman that her funeral was packed with every important person in the city.

St. Rose was canonized relatively quickly after her death. By 1671 she was declared a saint by Pope Clement X – the first of the New World saints. These days, she’s a popular friend to those whose families oppose their faith, she’s the patroness of the resolution of family quarrels, gardeners, florists, and embroiderers. But she’s also a fantastic patroness for vegetarians, and beautiful people who are tired of saying “my eyes are up here.”

A Community Saint

St. Rose is a great supporter of community outreach and parish social ministries. While she chose to live the life of a recluse, St. Rose consistently reached out to the poor and suffering in her city. She would even bring them into her little at-home-cloister to care for them.

At our parish, this is the aspect of St. Rose that brings us all together. Our little, rural parish is surrounded by often-overlooked poverty. Rural poverty can look very different than urban poverty, but the suffering is the same. Our pastor embodies St. Rose’s love of the poor as people, not merely as projects. Thanks to him, and to all of the lovely volunteers, we’re able to build and sustain ministries that provide material support while also nurturing their dignity. It’s been amazing to watch the parish come together to support our community. At a time when many parishes and families are fractured, ours seems to be uniting under the inspiration of our patroness. Thanks to her prayers, we’re focusing more on Christ and on the community around us.

St. Rose of Lima, pray for all those suffering poverty, loneliness, heartache, and fear. Encourage us to imitate you in your love for the sick and hungry, support us as we live out our faith despite ridicule, and help us to foster peace and hope within our own families. Rose of Lima, flower of holiness, pray for us.