Discover the heart and spirit of Father Jean-Émile Anizan through his own words—a priest devoted to the poor and the founder of the Congregation of the Sons of Charity (in 1918) and the Congregation of the Auxiliaries of Charity (in 1926).
The writings of Jean-Émile Anizan (1853-1928) reveal a man of God deeply devoted to the Church and the poor, unafraid to raise his voice to shed the light of the Gospel on the pressing issues of modern society. In them resound his evangelical spirit, his love for justice, and his conviction that genuine faith is always expressed in active charity. To read Anizan is to be challenged and inspired by a rich spiritual legacy that urges us to serve with courage, humility, and hope.
Text of Jean-Émile Anizan:
The holiness that God asks us to walk continually toward the holiness that His incarnate Son has shown us. That is why Our Lord said and repeated: Come, follow me!…
In religious life, as in Christian life, one only reaches holiness slowly, like the shrub planted by streams of water of which the first psalm speaks. Yes, holiness is attainted by following Jesus Christ carrying his cross. This truth is expressed in the formula of our vows: ‘Resolved to carry the cross and follow Jesus Christ, my Divine Master…’
No doubt God, in His mercy, allows rays of light to shine here and there in the sky, but only one scene of Tabor is mentioned in the life of the Savior, immediately followed by the announcement of the Passion. The triumphal entry into Jerusalem is soon followed by the humiliating events of Holy Thursday evening and the ignominious exit of Good Friday.
The path of holiness will always be rough, mountainous, sown with thorns and briars… To reach it we have imposed on ourselves poverty, chastity, obedience, and a Rule, that is to say, practices hard for our nature. We have already said it. In the end there is glory and indescribable happiness, but only by passing through the narrow gate.
On the other hand, that is what makes holiness so great and beautiful.
—Jean-Émile Anizan, Our Triple Ideal, 1925.
Commentary:
This text of Jean-Émile Anizan, written in 1925, condenses in just a few sentences the essence of his spirituality and the legacy he wished to leave to the Sons of Charity. Under the title “Our Triple Ideal,” the founder places at the center the universal call to holiness, not as an abstract notion but as a concrete, demanding path profoundly marked by the following of Christ. His message still carries intact force today, for it confronts us with the fundamental question: what does it mean to be holy in daily life, in consecrated life, in the midst of poverty and the cross?
Anizan begins by reminding us that holiness is not a sudden state nor a privilege reserved for a few, but a constant walking toward Christ, a daily fidelity built slowly, like the shrub of the first psalm that sinks its roots into the water and bears fruit in due season. This biblical image invites us to see holiness not as an immediate achievement but as a life of patience and perseverance. The tree does not grow overnight. Rather, it is strengthened over the years, nourished by the hidden source. So too religious and all Christians must let their life be nourished by the living water of grace flowing in prayer, in the Word, and in the Eucharist.
Father Anizan insists that this path is not walked in the abstract, but in the following of Jesus Christ who carries the cross. It is significant that the vow formula of the Sons of Charity explicitly includes the decision “to carry the cross and follow Jesus Christ, my Divine Master.” This is not just about a generic renunciation, but about a radical union with the crucified Christ. Here once again resounds the Vincentian spirituality: Saint Vincent de Paul repeated that the cross was our true treasure, and that the missionary had to embrace it with joy.
Anizan does not deceive himself nor his spiritual sons: the path of holiness is arduous, mountainous, sown with thorns. He does not promise shortcuts or easy consolations. He points out that even in the life of Jesus, the moments of light were brief and were immediately followed by the shadow of the Passion. Tabor gave way to the announcement of the cross. The triumphal entry into Jerusalem was followed by the humiliation of Holy Thursday and the ignominy of Friday. In this way, he reminds us that Christian life is not a succession of human glories, but a school of humility and surrender.
This spiritual realism is deeply liberating in a time like ours, when we often seek quick gratification and visible success. Father Anizan tells us that holiness is forged in the darkness of perseverance, in silent fidelity, in the serene acceptance of the cross. The true Christian does not flee from pain or difficulty but lives them as occasions of union with Christ.
The text explicitly mentions the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, along with the Rule, as the concrete means that shape this path. Anizan does not present them as mere obstacles or deprivations, but as practices that conform us to Christ and help us open ourselves to the fullness of charity. Poverty makes us free before material goods and draws us close to the heart of the poor; consecrated chastity opens us to a universal and disinterested love; obedience configures us with Christ obedient unto death on the cross. The Rule, with its concrete demands, reminds us that holiness is not achieved by spiritual emotions but through a constant discipline that educates the heart.
By speaking of the narrow gate, Anizan evokes one of the most challenging images of the Gospel. Holiness is not attained by the wide paths of comfort and self-indulgence, but by passing through the narrowness of sacrifice and surrender. Yet this narrow gate does not lead to suffocation, but to fullness of life. “In the end there is glory and indescribable happiness,” Anizan says. The Christian paradox is always the same: whoever loses his life gains it; whoever embraces the cross finds the resurrection.
This text is also beautiful because it does not only speak of renunciations but also of meaning. “On the other hand, that is what makes holiness so great and beautiful.” Anizan knew that holiness is not sad or mutilating. It is arduous, yes, but at the same time great and beautiful, because it is a reflection of God Himself, who is fullness of love. Saints are not bitter people but men and women who have discovered true joy, the joy that springs from giving oneself without reserve.
If we put this message in dialogue with our present life, we discover its enormous relevance. We live in a world that exalts ease, immediacy, comfort without effort. But the Gospel calls us to another horizon: that of fidelity, constancy, surrender—even when it costs. The holiness Anizan speaks of is not spectacular or flashy; it is the holiness of everyday life, of the one who fulfills his duties with love, who does not abandon the path even when it is hard, who trusts that the final glory is greater than all present trials.
We can think here of so many men and women of faith, known and unknown, who have walked this path. Canonized saints, but also anonymous saints who carried the cross of poverty, of illness, of incomprehension, and who remained faithful in the midst of darkness. All of them are witnesses that holiness is possible and that it is worth it.
Finally, there is in this text a very deep autobiographical echo. Anizan wrote these words in 1925, after having gone through “the great trial” of his deposition and having experienced humiliation and exile. His life truly was a path sown with thorns and briars, and yet he could say that this was the greatness and beauty of holiness. His words are not theory: they are the fruit of an experience of the cross accepted and transformed by grace.
This is the spiritual testament he leaves his sons: do not be deceived by illusions of grandeur, do not seek an easy holiness. Embrace the cross, follow Christ, live your vows with radicality, trust that in the end the glory and the happiness will be indescribable. Holiness is nothing other than walking in the footsteps of Christ, slowly, with perseverance, with humility, with love. And in that path lies the deepest greatness of life.
Suggestions for personal reflection and group discussion:
- Do I think of holiness as an instant state, or as a patient and persevering journey?
- What does it mean for me today “to follow Christ carrying the cross”?
- How do I live my own daily crosses: as useless burdens, or as opportunities to unite myself to Jesus?
- What place do poverty, chastity, and obedience occupy in my life as concrete means to grow in holiness?
- Am I aware that the narrow gate does not lead me to suffocation but to fullness of life?
- Do I find the greatness and beauty of holiness in my daily life, even in the midst of difficulties?
Let us pray:
Lord Jesus,
You call us to holiness,
not as a privilege for a few,
but as a path for every disciple.
You say to us again and again:
Come, follow me.
You do not hide the road ahead.
It is steep,
marked by thorns and briars,
narrow and demanding.
Like the tree planted by streams of water,
make us grow slowly and firmly,
rooted in Your grace,
bearing fruit in due season.
Grant us the courage to follow You,
not only on the mountain of light,
but in the shadow of the Passion.
Teach us to embrace poverty,
to live chastity with joy,
to walk in obedience with trust,
to find freedom in the Rule
that shapes our hearts.
When the cross becomes heavy,
remind us that You carried it first.
When fatigue overwhelms us,
show us that holiness is forged in perseverance.
And when we pass through the narrow gate,
let us discover the joy beyond all measure,
the glory hidden in surrender,
the beauty of a life given in love.
Lord, make us holy in Your way,
slowly, humbly, faithfully,
until the end of our journey,
when You will be our crown and our joy forever.
Amen.
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