Saint Philip's Day Sermon, May 2001
by Fr Petroc Howell

Even without looking at the readings for this feast, we find that the words of the Introit are very appropriate for the feast of S. Philip: ‘Caritas Dei diffusa est in cordibus nostris’ – ‘the love of God has been poured into our hearts through his Holy Spirit dwelling in us.’ This seems to sum up the life of S. Philip Neri.

    Recently there was a wonderful exhibition at the Royal Academy in London. It was called ‘The Genius of Rome’ and it was a marvellous collection of paintings, some sacred, some secular, some of them familiar. As I moved from one room to the next I suddenly noticed something rather familiar: ‘Haven’t we seen that somewhere before?’ Of course it was the well-known painting by Guido Reni of S. Philip Neri in ecstasy. It was painted some time after Philip’s death: clearly he had caught people’s imagination. It was a great age for painting, and there are portraits of other saints of that period. Some of them, like S. Ignatius, knew S. Philip. But still there was a particular appeal about Philip. We can best understand it by placing ourselves in the Rome of that time, and seeing his effect on people. You’re Mario, aged ten, about the year 1535, and you live in the crowded and narrow Via dei Capellari. (It’s still crowded and narrow today: not much has changed.) As you’re playing with your friends in the Piazza, you sometimes see this strange young man called Philip. He stops and says a few kind words to you, and says something to make you laugh, for Philip was full of merriment. (You’re too young and too far away to know that an English saint of great merriment was being beheaded on Tower Hill in London, our own S. Thomas More.)

    You and your friends get to like this Philip, for he was wonderful with children. You tell your Mamma about him. She’s not too sure: ‘They say that this Philip lives in an attic above a rich man’s house, somewhere on the way to the Pantheon. He won’t eat properly: they say he just has a bit of bread and some olives, and perhaps a bit of fruit. Bread and olives – pane ed olive – that’s not enough for a healthy man.’ And then Dad adds his bit: ‘He walks all the way to those spooky catacombs beyond the city walls, and spends hours down there at night praying. You can easily get lost down there, especially if your lamp goes out, and then you’re left among all those old tombs.’

    But you don’t take much notice. You sense that there’s a man of real prayer and kindness in Philip. And it’s not long before Mum and Dad change their idea of Philip. Dad’s uncle catches the plague and has to go into the Hospital for Incurables. And it’s there that Philip and his companions go to wash the patients, dress their wounds and give them hope, and they pray with them. People are more and more attracted to Philip.

    But all this is about Philip as a layman. This week we celebrate 450 years since S. Philip’s ordination. And the first thing to notice is that his ordination nearly didn’t happen. It wasn’t Philip’s choice at all. He had carried on, with his companions, his apostolate of prayer and preaching and helping the sick and the poor for some eighteen years, and then it was suggested to him that he ought to be a priest. He was too humble to have sought it himself. Studies were not a problem, for he had attended courses of studies over the years.

    After his ordination, on May 23rd, 1551, Philip was soon sought after in the Confessional. He had a great longing for the conversion of sinners, that longing given him by Christ, the Good Shepherd, seeking the lost sheep. He sometimes knew the condition of penitents’ souls before they said anything. In the spirit of S. Philip, we ought to heed the words of the present Pope, who encourages so much the ministry of the Confessional, particularly in his letters to priests for Maundy Thursday. And this Pope has made a point of going into a Confessional in S. Peter’s on Good Friday. We notice also how central this ministry is to the apostolate of the priest who received Newman into the Church, Blessed Dominic Barberi. And F. Faber of the London Oratory, even before he became a Catholic, stressed the importance of Confession.

    The confession of sins involves an act of humility from the penitent, so the humble Philip understood its value. He had a horror of intellectual pride. This was the age when the Protestants were enthroning private judgement. If only Luther and Calvin and Cranmer had taken a look at Philip and Ignatius and other Saints who were bringing about the real Reformation, how different history would have been. Luther must have known about it, for he had been in Rome. There was almost an explosion of sanctity at that time, after a period of worldliness and corruption in the Church.

    As we celebrate S. Philip’s priesthood, we cannot forget his immense love of the Mass and the Blessed Sacrament. He had brought the wonderful practice of the Forty Hours’ adoration to Rome. And in celebrating Mass he was often absorbed in the love of Christ. His mystical soul was filled with the greatness of Christ’s sacramental presence.

    We can look back on all this and admire S. Philip. But saints aren’t just for the past, they’re for today. That’s why the Church puts them before us, so that we may beg their prayers and look at their example. So if we’re to do more than just admire, we need to connect with Philip today. What can he say in the Birmingham of 2001?

    His attic is no longer in Piazza S. Eustachio, but in Reservoir Road. It isn’t Mario now playing in the street, from Via dei Capellari, but Darren, who lives in Cawdor Crescent. Darren lives with his Mum, but Dad went some years ago, and his first step-father has gone too. He’s now got a second step-father. Quite a challenge for S. Philip’s apostolate.

    Philip moves among the people, goes into shops and maybe even into the Ivy Bush. For Philip was very much a ‘hands-on’ Saint, sometimes literally, as when he blessed people. He would be among people at the street corners. As we have no catacombs, his long prayer in solitude is at Witton Cemetery or the crypt of S. Chad’s, above the tombs of the Archbishops and the Hardman family.

    What would Philip say as he saw Darren at play, or watched people passing by Tesco’s? Seeing the trolleys piled high with shopping, might he not suggest that people should spare something for those in the world who are much poorer than we are? Then Philip notices that half the people seem to be holding something up to their ear. ‘What’s that?’ ‘Oh, it’s me mobile’, and they explain what it’s for. Might he not turn the conversation around and suggest that we spend as much time on a mobile with the Holy Spirit as we do with our friends and family? We could almost call Philip himself a mobile phone, linking the voice of the Holy Spirit to the world he lived in.

    People have come to feel lost without their mobile. But how many feel any sense of loss if they’re not in touch with the Holy Spirit by prayer? Philip would tell those people outside Tesco’s to switch on to the Holy Spirit (and there’s no rental charge), to make space in our lives for prayer, away from the hectic life of the city. Isn’t this what bread-and-olives man would tell us today? And one great fruit of this can be the very event we celebrate this week: the priesthood. We are too few, and without prayer, there will not be more priests.

    S. Philip was ordained 450 years ago, and from about 420 years ago he began to see those English priests, newly ordained, who lived nearby. He blessed them before they set out for a life of danger in England, often going on to torture and death. We can pray to S. Philip, who blessed those priests, to find us priests for today. Lastly, we must not forget this year’s birthday boy, John Henry Newman, two hundred years old. Newman was led in prayer, step by step, first as an Anglican, then as a Catholic. When in Rome after his ordination he was captivated by Philip’s personality and holiness and by the way of life he established for his Congregation. Philip had lived a long time before Newman, but still Newman was attracted to him. We can pray to S. Philip, and to Cardinal Newman, to obtain for us the guidance of the Holy Spirit as we approach Pentecost. Philip had a great devotion to the Holy Spirit. And we can pray to them to find us priests to serve the Tesco-mobile people of today.