Saint Scholastica, Twin of Benedict

Vita S. Benedicti Abbatis Monachorum in Occidente Patris et Legislatoris ex Gregorio Magno Caput XXXIII … Ex qua re necesse est, ut tibi de venerabili patre Benedicto narrem: quia fuit quiddam quod voluit, sed non valuit implere. Soror namquam eius, Scholastica nomine, omnipotenti Domino ab ipso infantiae tempore dedicata, ad eum semel per annum venire consueverat. Ad quam vir Dei non longe extra januam in possessione monasterii descendebat. Quadam vero die venit ex more, atque ad eam cum discipulis venerabilis eius descendit frater: qui totum diem in Dei laudibus sacrisque colloquiis ducentes, incumbentibus jam noctis tenebris simul acceperunt cibos. Cumque adhuc ad mensam sederent, et inter sacra colloquia tardior se hora protraheret, eadem santimonialis femina soror eius eum rogavit, dicens: quaeso te ne ista nocte me deseras, ut usque mane de coelestis vitae gaudiis loquamur. Cui ille respondit: Quid est quod loqueris, soror? Manere extra cellam nullatenus possum. Tanta vero erat coeli serenitas, ut nulla in aere nubes appareret. Sanctimonialis autem femina, cum verba fratris negantis audisset, insertas digitis manus super mensam posuit, et caput in manibus omnipotentem Dominum rogatura declinavit. Cumque de mensa levaret caput, tanta coruscationis et tonitrui virtus, tantaque inundatio pulviae erupit, ut neque venerabilis Benedictus, neque fratres qui cum eo aderant, extra loci limen quo consederant, pedem movere potuissent. Sanctimonialis quippe femina caput in manibus declinans, lacrymarum fluvios in mensam fuderat, per quas serenitatem aeris ad pluviam traxit. Nec paulo tardius post orationem inundatio illa secuta est, sed tanta fuit convenientia orationis et inundationis, ut de mensa caput jam cum tonitruo levaret: quatenus unum idemque esset momentum, et levare caput, et pluviam deponere. Tunc vir Dei inter coruscos et tonitruos atque ingentis pluviae inundationem videns se ad monasterium non posse remeare, coepit conqueri contristatus, dicens: Parcat tibi omnipotens Deus, soror; quid est quod fecisti? Cui illa respondit: Ecce te rogavi, et audire me noluisti; rogavi Dominum meum, et audivit me. Modo ergo si potes, egredere, et me dimissa ad monasterium recede. Ipse autem exire extra tectum non valens, qui remanere sponte noluit, in loco mansit invitus. Sicque factum est ut totam noctem pervigilem ducerent, atque per sacra spiritalis vitae colloquia sese vicaria relatione satiarent. Qua de re dixi eum voluisse aliquid, sed minime potuisse: quia si venerabilis viri mentem aspicimus, dubium non est quod eamdem serenitatem voluerit in qua descenderat permanere; sed contra hoc quod voluit, in virtute omnipotentis Dei ex feminae pectore miraculum invenit. Nec mirum quod plus illo femina, quae diu fratrem videre cupiebat, in eodem tempore valuit: quia enim juxta Joannis vocem, Deus charitas est, justo valde judicio illa plus potuit, quae amplius amavit. … Caput XXXIV Cumque die altero eadem venerabilis femina ad cellam propriam recessisset, vir Dei ad monasterium rediit. Cum ecce post triduum in cella consistens, elevatis in aera oculis, vidit eiusdem sororis suae animam de corpore egressam in columbae specie caeli secreta penetrare. Qui, tantae ejus gloriae congaudens, omnipotenti Deo in hymnis et laudibus gratias reddidit, ejusque obitum fratribus denuntiavit. Quos etiam protinus misit, ut ejus corpus ad monasterium deferrent, atque in sepulcro, quod sibi ipsi paraverat, ponerent. Quo facto contigit, ut quorum mens una semper in Deo fuerat, eorum quoque corpora nec sepultura separaret.

From the Life of Saint Benedict, Abbot, Father and Lawgiver of Monks in the West, By Gregory the Great … And so I must tell you about holy Father Benedict, that he willed something he had not the power to do. His sister Scholastica, devoted to God from girlhood, was in the habit of coming to him once a year. The man of God would come down to her in a holding of the monastery not far outside its gate. One day she came according to custom, and her brother and his followers came down to her. After spending the whole day in praise of God and holy conversation, now as the gloom of night was setting in, they shared a meal. While they were still sitting at table and the hour grew late in holy talk, that holy woman, his sister, besought him, saying: “I ask you not to leave me this night, that we may talk till morning of the joys of the life of Heaven.” But he replied, “What are you saying, sister? By no means can I stay outside my cell.” The heavens were clear—no shade of cloud in the sky. But the holy woman, when she heard her brother's words of refusal, set her hands—fingers knitted—on the table and laid her head in them to pray Almighty God. And when she raised her head from the table, so great a power of flashing and of thunder, so great a downpour burst forth, that neither holy Benedict nor the brothers there with him could set foot over the doorsill of the place were they were lodged. No indeed, for the devout woman, laying her head in her hands, had shed streams of tears over the table, tears which changed a cloudless sky to rain. Nor did the downpour follow a little while after her prayer, but so perfectly simultaneous were prayer and deluge that she was already raising her head from the table with the thunderclap—so that the lifting of her head and the downpour of rain were one and the same movement. Then the man of God, seeing with consternation that he could not make his way to the monastery amidst the lightnings and the thunder and the flood of giant rain, began to complain, saying: “God Almighty spare you, sister! What have you done?” But she replied: “Look! I asked you, you would not hear me. I asked my Lord, and He did hear me. Now, therefore, leave if you can, forsake me and go back to your monastery!” But he, unable to go out from under her roof, remained in the place against his will. And so it happened that they spent the night wide awake and feasted each other with holy talk of the life of the Spirit, telling and listening in turn. For this reason I said that he willed a thing, but had no power. For if we look to the intention of the holy man, there is no doubt that he wanted the same fair weather he had come down in to continue. But instead of what he wanted he found—in the power of Almighty God from the heart of a woman—a miracle. No wonder that the woman was mightier than he on that occasion, for indeed, according to the word of John, God is Love, and by His just judgment she who loved more could do more. … When on the next day the same holy woman had withdrawn to her own cell, the man of God returned to the monastery. But see! after staying in his cell three days, he lifted his eyes to the sky and saw the soul of his sister leave her body in the likeness of a dove and pass into the secrets of Heaven. And he, rejoicing in her surpassing glory, gave thanks to God in hymns and praises, and made her death known to his brothers. And he sent them forthwith to bring her body to the monastery, and lay it in the grave which he had prepared for himself. Whereby it happened that, as they had always been of one mind in the Lord, the grave could not part even their bodies.