The Faith of Malagasies

One of the chief obstacles to the cause of our Catholic Foreign Missions is very often the apathy of our good Catholics "back home." The question is oftentimes asked by these well-meaning folk; "Is it not a hopeless task to try and convert an unbeliever? Why all this waste of our finest youth? Money? Time? Why these lives of exile and hardship in primitive lands?"

A thousand answers might be given to these queries, fully justifying the foreign mission movement, if the words of Christ Himself were not enough: "Go and teach ail nations." The opinion seems to be quite common that the natives in uncivilized lands never really imbibe the true faith, even after years of endeavor on the part of the missionaries.

Perhaps the following short sketches of little incidents that took place here at our mission of Morondava, Madagascar, within the past month may help to convince the skeptic that the faith is really taking root and making progress in foreign lands. These examples are typical of a thousand other proofs we witness daily around us, showing that our Malagasies treasure the same faith of which we are so proud.

A Simple Envelope

The first incident I quote took place the day after the feast of St. Joseph. Our good lay Brother was removing the temporary altar which we had erected in the sanctuary as a shrine in honor of the saint. As he took down the statue, a small white envelope fell to the floor. Not knowing what it might contain, the Brother brought it to the house and laid it upon my desk.

Returning to my room about two hours later, I found the envelope with two or three other Ietters. Ignorant of its origin and contents, I opened the envelope indifferently and read with amazement the following:

“Dear St. Joseph,

“I am taking occasion of your feast day to implore your help in certain troubles which afflict me. My wife has already prayed to the Blessed Virgin, your most holy spouse, and has asked for the same favors that I now ask of you.

(1) “Grant that we may have a strong spirit of faith to the very end of our lives. Carve on the hearts of each one of us a word that will remind us that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was given to your charge and that we are like unto you in this respect. For God has also given to our custody three small girls. We give them food and clothing, it is true, but the Lord is their keeper.

“Therefore we beseech him through your intercession to heal our youngest child who is very sick. Moreover, when they are grown up, please call one of the three sisters to be a worker of Jesus Christ (a religious) in our name.

(2) “I ask that the child the Lord is soon to give us will be a boy. Keep both it and its mother safe and strong, if it be God's will and for our good.

(3) Convert my mother and her brother who do not know what religion means. If they are converted, their other children will follow them and we will all be happy in the Catholic faith. O good St. Joseph, what trials befell you as foster father of the Holy Child! Similar trials befall me now... Still I have confidence, for you are my protector. Invoke the aid of Saint Thérèse, the Little Flower, who was filled with love for Jesus Christ. Have her also pray for me and my needs."

A Source of Edification

When I had recovered from my surprise I set about to investigate. Learning the origin of the letter, I blamed myself for having been so inquisitive as to have read the secret message, the ardent prayer of a fervent soul. Still I could not resist the temptation to copy and translate it. The writer will never know that his secret has been divulged, and I am sure that it will be a source of edification for your readers.

Some may smile at its childlike simplicity, but still I think it is a fine proof of the staunch faith that exists in the hearts of these poor but sincere people, so recently converted from the darkness of unbelief.

A Death-Bed Scene

My next incident is a death-bed scene of one of our native converts. Stanislas Andrianjaka was Assistant Governor of Morondava. With such a lofty government position, he was held in great esteem by ail the natives. He was catered to by many and his favor was sought by all.

As a citizen, he was polite, respectful, very intelligent and kindness itself to ail about him. As a Catholic, he was one of the best of the parish. Faithfully he fulfilled ail his religious duties. More than this, he was a daily communicant, giving edifying example to all, natives and Europeans alike.

Every morning he was at his accustomed place in the church, and with devotion approached the altar rail to receive his Eucharistic Lord. His greatest affliction in life came when through sickness he was no longer able to be present at daily Mass, an ailment from which he had long been suffering at last confined him to his bed.

On Saturday evening last, a young lad brought to the mission house the following note:

“Reverend and Dear Father,

“I am quite sick and will not be able to attend Mass tomorrow. Would it be too much trouble for you to bring Holy Communion to me? I have an unquenchable thirst for Jesus in the Sacred Host.

“Your child in Christ,
Stanislas.”

Simple yet touching words, and as we admired the beautiful spirit of faith that prompted them, we little thought that these were to be the last words written by him.

On the morrow, one of the Fathers brought him Holy Communion. That afternoon it was my privilege to visit and prepare him for his passage from time to eternity. Death held no fears for him, and he was happy at the thought of receiving the Last Rites. His beautiful faith showed itself in his every word.

While I administered Extreme Unction, he looked supremely happy, and seemed to be in secret communion with our Lord. Later, he was profuse in his expressions of gratitude, and continually blessed God for having given him this last great grace. At 4 p. m. I left him, knowing that he was fully resigned to God's holy will. Shortly afterwards, the tolling of the funeral bell announced his death.

Another soul had gone to meet its Maker. Stanislas who had so thirsted for his Eucharistic Lord, had gone forth to enjoy the possession of Him face to face for ail eternity.

One Last Story…

Someone may object that the two foregoing incidents are personal, and hence could not be considered as portraying the general spirit of the people. And so I add this third story which concerns an entire parish – a group of about two hundred and fifty Catholics. It may be a more convincing proof of the progress of the faith in Madagascar.

Antanambao is a small village about seven miles from Morondava. Three years ago, the Catholics there built a fine large church. Since that time, they have had Mass at regular intervals, but it was not until this year that they had an overnight visit from a priest.

I said Mass for them one Sunday, and remained to celebrate a feast in honor of St. Joseph with them the next day. Arriving at the church Monday morning about five-thirty, I was surprised to find the modest chapel crowded with people; the more so as I had told the natives the previous night that I would say Mass only at eight o'clock.
To my surprise I learned that they had spent the entire night in Church praying and singing alternately, while I had been sleeping the sleep of the just in the "rectory." Overjoyed at the thought of having the Real Presence in their midst, of their own accord they had organized a nocturnal vigil of love before Christ in the Tabernacle.

They begged me to return soon again for a longer visit, that their village might be hallowed by the presence of the Holy Eucharist, and that they might have the pleasure of keeping watch before It. On my homeward journey, much as I respect and admire the Catholicity of my own land, I could not help but wonder how many people in so-called Christian civilized countries would show the same spirit of faith and the same generous love towards Jesus present in the Eucharist.

Jesus Must Be Well Pleased

In view of these experiences and a hundred other instances of which I have heard, I feel that the doubt cast upon the value and character of the faith in foreign lands is both unjust and unfounded. Incidents of this kind make one feel that all the sacrifice is very much worthwhile, all the smug skeptics of the world to the contrary notwithstanding.

Perhaps Christ will one day say of these people as he said so long ago of the faith-filled centurion:
“‘I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith’” (Luke 7:9).

(Originally published in the La Salette publication, Our Lady’s Missionary in December, 1934, pgs. 182-183)