St. Gemma Galgani Converts a Sinner
The following is a famous excerpt from The Life of Gemma Galgani by Ven. Fr. Germanus. I have always used it as a prime example of what the saints do for us in Heaven, acting as our advocates. Here is St. Gemma Galgani playing the advocate in her life in supernatural fashion.
My feelings on that occasion, still vivid in my memory, baffle explanation. Our Lord was then assuredly preparing me to see great things by which every shadow of doubt remaining in my mind should be dispelled. It happened to be Thursday, and about the middle of supper Gemma, feeling signs of the coming; ecstasy, rose from the table and left the room. After a little time her adopted mother came to call me. I followed her and found the child in ecstasy. The subject of the ecstasy was the conversion of a sinner and the form was a wrestling between the blessed maiden and the Divine justice to obtain this conversion.
I confess that I never beheld anything more affecting. The dear child was sitting on her bed with her eyes, face and all her person turned towards a part of the room where Our Lord appeared to her. She was not agitated, but earnest and resolute, like one in a struggle who is determined to win at any cost. She began by saying, “As You hast come, Jesus, I renew my supplications for my sinner. He is Thy child and my brother; save him, Jesus;” and she named him.
He was a stranger whom she had met in Lucca, and moved by spiritual impulse she had already warned him very often by word of mouth and by letter to listen to the dictates of his conscience and not be contented with the mere public reputation of being a good Christian. Jesus seeming disposed to deal as a just judge with this man, remained unmoved by the entreaties of His servant. But now deterred she rejoined:
“Why today, O Jesus, do You not heed me? For one soul only You hast done so much! Why then wilt You not save this other one? Save him, Jesus, save him. . . . Be good, Jesus. . . . Do not say that to me. In Thy mouth, Who art Mercy itself, that word ‘abandon’ sounds badly; You must not say it. You has not measured the Blood You has shed for sinners, and now do You wish to measure the enormity of our sins? . . . Do You not heed me? And I, to whom must I turn?
“You hast shed Thy Blood for him as well as me. Will You save me and not him? I will not rise from here; save him; promise me that You wilt save him. I offer myself victim for all, but particularly for him. I promise not to refuse Thee anything. Do You grant it me?—it is a soul. Remember, O Jesus, it is a soul that has cost Thee so much. He will become good, and not relapse.”
In answer to all her entreaties Our Lord put forward the Divine Justice. But she growing still more fervent replied: “I am not seeking Thy Justice; I am imploring Thy Mercy. Then Jesus, go in search of that poor sinner; press him to Thy Heart and You will see that he will be converted; at least try it. . . . Listen, Jesus, You say that You have made many forcible attempts to convince him; but You have not called him son; try that now, and tell him that You art his Father, and that he is Thy child. You will find that on hearing this sweet name of Father, his hardened heart will soften.”
And here Our Lord to prove to His servant what reason He had for remaining firm, began to show her one by one, with the most minute circumstances of time and place, the evil deeds of that sinner, adding that he had filled up their measure. The poor child showed her dismay; she let her hands fall, and heaved a deep sigh, as if she had almost lost the hope of succeeding. But quickly recovering from the shock she returned to the dispute:
“I know, Jesus,” she said, “I know it; that he has offended Thee thus grievously; but I have done worse and, for all that, You hast shown me Mercy. I know, I know, O Jesus, that he has made Thee weep. But now Jesus—You must not think of his sins; You must think of the Blood You hast shed, what immense Charity, O Jesus, hast You not lavished on me! Use with my sinner, I implore of Thee, all those delicacies of Infinite Love that You hast used towards me. Remember Jesus, that I want his salvation. Triumph, triumph, I ask him of Thee in Charity.”
In spite of all these efforts, Our Lord remained inflexible, and Gemma again relapsed into anguish and discouragement, remaining silent, as if she had abandoned the strife. Then, of a sudden, another motive flashed to her mind that seemed invincible against all resistance. She became all animated, and spoke thus:
“Well, I am a sinner; You Thyself has told me so; that worse than me You couldst not find. Yes, I confess it, I am unworthy that You should listen to me; but look, I present Thee another advocate for my sinner; it is Thine own Mother who asks Thee to forgive him. Oh, imagine saying no to Thy Mother! Surely You canst not say no to her. And now answer me, Jesus, say that You hast saved my sinner.” The victory was gained, the whole scene changed aspect, the tenderhearted Savior had granted the grace, and Gemma with a look of indescribable joy exclaimed: “He is saved, he is saved! You hast conquered Jesus, triumph always thus.” And then she came out of the ecstasy. This most affecting scene lasted quite half an hour.
The words in which I have described it were in part taken down in writing, and in part preserved in my memory from which I have faithfully drawn them. When it was over, having withdrawn to my room, with my mind engrossed by a thousand thoughts, I suddenly heard a tap at my door—“A strange gentleman, father, has called and wishes to see you.” I bade him come in. He threw himself at my feet sobbing and said: “Father, hear my confession.”
Good God! I thought my heart would burst. It was Gemma’s sinner, converted that same hour. He accused himself of all that I had heard repeated by her in the ecstasy. He had forgotten one thing only, and I was able to remind him of it. I consoled him, told him what had just happened, got his leave to narrate these wonders of the Lord, and after a mutual embrace we parted. Some years have passed since that event, and I still seem to find myself present at it.