|
Part I Fr. Justin’ Life
|
|
|
In His goodness and mercy, the Lord has blessed me, showering countless grace and blessings upon me. He has called me from nothingness into life within a loving and caring family; He has called me to faith in a humble but fervent Christian community. He has called me to holiness and strengthened my calling through the living examples of several “hidden saints.” The Lord has blessed me with a special vocation to religious life and to priesthood in the Society of Divine Vocations. Very early in my life, I felt God’s calling to the priesthood; my parish priest made me aware of the reality that to become a priest I needed money and that my parents, with eleven children, could never afford to pay the seminary tuition. I had not been aware of my poverty; I only knew that I wanted to be a priest! “The only way you can ever make it is by going to Pianura,” my Pastor said to me back in 1953. “I want to be a priest and I will go wherever I have to in order to become one.” Thus God, without my knowing it, put me on a path that would cross Fr. Justin’s. God called me, and my parents disposed me to recognize and accept my vocation, but it was Fr. Justin with the Vocationary and Vocationist Fathers who enabled me to follow my calling. On September 15, 1953, accompanied by my father and my pastor, I went to Pianura. Soon I fell in love with Fr. Justin. I was fascinated by his smile and sweetness. I was motivated and inspired by his simple yet highly spiritual meditations. Knowing Fr. Justin and living in the Vocationary during the last two years of his earthly life was for me one of God’s most cherished graces. Yet when I was living in the vocationary or Pianura, I did not quite realize the singular privilege of living with such a man of God. Yes, I enjoyed and still remember many of his meditations-exhortations; I loved to serve his Mass; and I enjoyed the candies that he sometimes gave us. His smile, his blessing hand upon my head, and his wish-greeting - “Become a saint” – are engraved in the depth of my being. As I grew older, I came to appreciate more and more Fr. Justin’s love for God and for vocations. As I kept cleaning Fr. Justin’s room for several years after his death, I felt that I was breathing his own spirit. In the United States, I have gladly undertaken the task of translating some of Fr. Justin’s writings; this work of translating has given me a special opportunity to restudy and rediscover the depth of his spirituality, the heights of his union with the Blessed Trinity and the power that emanates from his life and his writings. For several years I had been thinking and wishing to write a biography of Fr. Justin so that English-speaking people could have at least a glimpse of this servant of God. Although I deemed that a biography of Fr. Justin would be absolutely necessary for the growth of the Society of Divine Vocations in the United States and throughout the English-speaking world, I kept putting it off, blaming my lack of time, the unavailability of source and my limited knowledge of English. In the spring of 1985, I received a phone call: my younger brother, Floriano, had a brain tumor, and had been hospitalized in Varese. Alarming news kept coming; I could do nothing but pray and ask my confreres and friends to do the same. I entrusted him to Fr. Justin, asking that he…now face to face with Jesus, would intercede for my brother. On the morning of April 3, 1985, as I woke up, I heard myself talking aloud: “ I promise you, Fr. Justin, that if my brother will get well I will publish your biography in English.” Had I dreamed of him? I only remember my promise. That same morning, Sr. Antonietta Cioce, S.D.V., was glad to inform me that she had dreamed that I was saying a Mass of thanksgiving to the Blessed Trinity in honor of Fr. Justin because my brother was well. That very day, Floriano was operated upon, and the operation was successful. My brother is now doing well; he has resumed normal life and doesn’t show any trace of his cancer. Now I am returning the favor by sharing the treasure of Fr. Justin’s life with all my English-speaking friends. This biography is by not means complete, and it is not original. Everything written in this book has been previously published; most of it is only a translation. The mail source for this book are: L’Apostolo Delle Divine Vocazioni, Un prete di leri per la Chiesa di Oggi, Fatti Santo and Spiritus Domini, as well as Fr.Justin’s works Ascensione and Spiritus Orationis, Devozionale and Constituzioni. I hope that through these pages many may come to know appreciate and imitate the life, work and holiness of this servant of God, and that this reading may inspire you to discover, accept and follow your vocation to become a saint and sanctifier.
Fr.Louis Caputo, S.D.V. On May 2, 1948, Cardinal Luigi Lavitrano, Prefect of the Congregation of Religious, appointed by Pope Pius XII to be protector of the two Vocationist congregations, went to Pianura for his first visit to the two Mother Houses. The small town of Pianura exulted over the visit of the Cardinal – a first in its history – and the joy was multiplied by the fact that the visit was also a tribute to that most humble and illustrious son of Pianura, Fr. Justin. That night, when the festive ringing of the church bells and the joyful acclamation of the people had quieted down, when the echo of the musical concerts and the fireworks had vanished, Fr. Justin’s mother, Giuseppina Simpatia, privately called her other priest son, Fr.Ciro, and confided to him a secret that she had carefully kept in her heart for many years but now could hide no longer. Before Fr. Justin’s birth, a priest of Pianura, Fr. Salvatore Di Fusco, well known as a confessor and spiritual director, had fallen seriously ill. One night, when everyone was expecting the death of the pious priest, a miracle took place. The Blessed Mother appeared to him and said: “Have no fear, you shall recover because today in Pianura a child is being born; he will be named Justin and he shall be a glory for the Catholic Church.” To the astonishment of relatives and friends, Fr. Di Fusco did indeed recover. Thankful to the Blessed Mother, he had a painting made of the vision; this painting is kept in the Mother House of the Vocationist Sisters in Pianura. In one of his first outings after his miraculous healing, Fr. Di Fusco visited the Russolillo family. While they were congratulating him on his unexpected and sudden recovery, he was congratulating them for the birth of their third boy. On hearing that the child’s name was Justin, the lucky priest exclaimed, “Then he is the one!” and told Fr. Justin’s parents about the vision and his miraculous healing. Fr. Di Fusco lived and died with the certainty that he was the one. Every year thereafter, Fr. Di Fusco celebrated January 18 as the day of the annunciation of Fr. Justin’s mission as servant and apostle of divine vocations.
“God forgive you, my dear!” said Giuseppina, smiling; she was not offended, having interpreted very well the meaning of the remark. “He is fruit of heaven and not of earth.” The first impression remained unchanged; wherever he went, with whomever he dealt, Justin was seen and perceived always as a man of God, a heavenly creature living on earth. The next day, Giuseppina wrapped the newborn baby in a shawl, called her husband, Luigi, and very resolutely said: “The Lord gives us children for His glory and not so that we may have parties. Let us have this baby baptized at once.” Without hesitation, Luigi Russolillo gathered his family and led them to St.George’s church, shoveling a path for them through the deep snow as the little group moved along. During the ceremony, the midwife noticed that the child, who had been quiet during the preliminary prayers, smiled beautifully when the holy water was poured on his forehead. “Listen to what I’m telling, you!” she prophesied to his mother. “This boy will be a priest, and from this moment I expect a Mass for my soul. From the very early years of his life, it was clear that Justin was not cut out for trade, not even for a profession; he had a mission. His precocious intelligence, his absolute docility and his singular devotion kept announcing him as a future priest. He was very witty. At the age of three, he asked his uncle Giuseppe: “Why do we refer to the dead as ‘the good souls’? Does one become good after death?”
According to a popular Neapolitan belief, very intelligent children live a short life; the Russolillo’s neighbors used to say, “He is too intelligent, he cannot live too long.” Half pleased and half resentful the mother would reply: "Why should only the stupid live a long life?” His grandmother, Giuseppina Scherillo, a very educated lady, quickly put an end to these questions with a golden sentence: “Let me tell you where this child was. He was in the mind of God!” Justin was full of life. While a neighbor and family friend was artfully handling her spindle, he would quickly grasp and pull it. “ Don’t touch, don’t touch” the old lady kept saying to him. Mockingly, he used to repeat, “Don’t touch, don’t touch.” Losing her patience, the old lady would add,: “Blessed Mother, take him!” The impertinent little boy would reply: “Take her!” He was quiet only when he was allowed to celebrate or preach to the elderly ladies, who would repay him by teaching him embroidery, crocheting and knitting. Later on, he was an expert in distinguishing and appreciating handmade embroideries. He was welcome in every kitchen of the neighborhood; he visited many families and was not choosy about food – he ate everything. Maria, Enrichetta and Giovannina, Justin’s paternal aunts, were teachers, and they helped his mother a great deal in raising and educating him. They would take him to class with them, where he acquired his first notions of education while rendering small services. One day, on the way back from school, Justin was walking alongside his aunt Giovannina carrying under his arm the attendance book and class register; Rachele Marrone, who was walking on the other side, asked him, “Justin, what will you be when you grow up?” “A priest!” he responded very quickly. “Then I will be a sister and I will even come to confess to you, but … I wouldn’t like having big penances.” “You can relax, I will only give you as penance forty days of fasting on bread and water only, and fifteen decades of the rosary everyday…” Giovannina kept smiling and wishing him well. The little boy already had a good reputation for his austerity. When Ciro Varchetta left the little town of Pianura to go to the seminary, his mother and relatives, with tears in their eyes, were saying their good-byes while the young boy was wiping his own tears as he departed on a horse and carriage. Justin, who was present at the scene, commented:“ Why do you cry? I wish it could be me going there now!” Fr. Giorgio Mele, S.D.V., testified that, as boys, he and the first followers of Fr. Justin, while witnessing the acceptance of the seminarians, used to cry, saying, “ We will never have such a chance. Will anybody perform a miracle for us so that we can go?” But those seminarians they watched leaving did not become priest! Their place was taken by seventeen young men of Pianura who became priests thanks to Fr. Justin’s work.
At the time, the Baron Lorenzo Zampaglione, owner of a larger part of the real estate in town, was known as a charitable man. Every year, on the recommendation of his pastor, he would provide a dowry for many young girls who were contemplating marriage. Mrs. Russolillo and her son Justin went to his house in Naples and confided their difficulty to him. Justin, with his frail health, could not work in construction as his father did; it would have been a crime to waste such beautiful intelligence. “Let him become a shoemaker!” the Baron answered them abruptly. Red with embarrassment and his eyes filled with tears, Justin remained speechless. Coming out of the Baron’s house with determination and tenderness, his mother reassured him, saying: "Don't be afraid. Mother will make you a priest at the cost of her own eyes.” The family agreed with the mother. His father and his uncles accompanied Justin to the minor seminary of Pozzuoli. That very day the seminary faculty was giving a placement test to the candidates for their school. Justin took the test and them waited with his family to see the test scores. Justin scored high and was admitted to the second year of high school. Even years later, in his old age, Msgr. Colonna kept telling everyone about Justin’s alertness and promptness: “There has never been, in my experience, another similar case.” Soon the new seminarian attracted the esteem of the superiors, the admiration of the teachers, and the affection of the other seminarians and of all the seminary employees. The Bishop used him as his assistant both in Pozzuoli and throughout the diocese. The great esteem that he enjoyed helped him to overcome the two obstacles to his ascent to the priesthood – his frail health and his poverty. At a certain point, the superiors suspected that Justin might have tuberculosis, yet they did not want to dismiss such a promising young man. They gave him two rooms with a balcony overlooking the Mediterranean Sea and did their best to hasten his recovery. Poverty, already understandable in a Christian family that kept growing every year (the Russolillo’s had ten children) became alarming when Mr.Russolillo fell from a scaffold while supervising some repair work at the City Hall of Pianura. The accident left its scars for the rest of his life. The first symptoms of cataracts, which grieved him greatly in the last years of his life, appeared at the same time. Justin’s mother regularly visited her “special son,” and his brother Vincenzino, whenever possible, accompanied her; a little donkey was their only means of transportation. The good mother kept asking the Lord for the strength needed to walk from Pianura to Pozzuoli, about eight miles of road that was very dusty and sunny during the summer, muddy and deserted during the winter. Once, on her way to the seminary, she fainted and remained a long time in the shadow of some chestnut trees, trying to recover her strength. On that occasion, Giuseppina was unable to hide the distress of her poverty from her son and hinted at the possibility of having to discontinue his studies. Trusting in God, Justin prayed and cried. He cried so much that the superiors noticed and reported it to the bishop. In a conversation with Mrs.Russolillo, the bishop became aware of their financial situation. The firstborn in the family had interrupted his studies to help the father and the second born, Vincenzino, followed his example. Their aunt Enrichetta, who wholeheartedly helped her nephew, died at a very young age. The bishop was convinced of their real need and pleaded with his friend, the Baron Zampaglione, who this time willingly committed himself to pay the monthly tuition, which mailed directly to the seminary. Justin was always the best student in his class, and on every exam he scored very high. He was appointed “prefect” of the younger class both so that he might be sheltered from the roughness of the senior class and, much more, so that he could be entrusted with their formation. Since the seminary school was not recognized by the state, Msgr.Zezza, who appreciated the ability of Justin, wanted him to pass the state exam for high school and college. In his first state, in 1905, a bitterly anti-clergy professor failed him in French; when Justin took the exam again in September of the same year, he passed with the highest possible score. The second state exam was a real triumph. Mr. Russolillo did not have the money to pay the fee for the examination, and it was the last possible day. He was owed some money by a gentleman in Pozzuoli, so he went to the creditor to collect it, but the creditor refused to listen to him. Luigi Russolillo appealed again to Baron Zampaglione, who also this time was very happy to help.
He completed his last two years of theology, 1911-1913, at the Regional Seminary of St.Pius X in Posillipo, Naples. The seminary was staffed by the Jesuit Fathers. He was one of the first six students there. Since the huge seminary building was not totally completed, for a while, the seminarians lived in the house of the Jesuits; thus Justin had the first real experience of religious life. As the first prefect of that seminary, Justin harmonized beautifully firmness and sweetness. Later on, Fr. Justin used to say of this first period of seminary life in Posillipo: “It was like a family.” He completed his theological studies, receiving a gold medal award. Fr.Antonio Stravino, S.J., rector of the seminary, used to repeat to Fr. Saggiomo, S.D.V.: “Justin is a saint who should be canonized while alive. Holy mother Church should make an exception for him. Justin was like a pearl who shone better when surrounded by restless children. The little ones gathered around him as butterflies gather around a light that shines in the midnight. He welcomed them with joviality. Using some construction beams, he made benches for his little friends; he would seat them on the improvised benches and teach them catechism. Sometimes the catechism questions took interesting turns. “Who created you?” Justin once asked a young boy. “Mom and Daddy.” “Why?” insisted Justin, smiling. “To cut the grass for my little cow.” Justin’s heart melted and he was motivated to always to do more, seeing such crass ignorance in religious matters. Catechism in all its forms, from the most basic to the most elevated, was his favorite weapon in spiritual battles, for the achievement of spiritual good; the teaching of catechism became his constant passion. Msgr.Cafiero, Rector of the Seminary of Naples, met Fr. Justin shortly after his ordination and inquired about his daily schedule. When he heard: “In the afternoon, teaching catechism,” Msgr.Cafiero incredulously interrupted him, asking, Every day?” “Every day!” confirmed Fr. Justin. “Finally I have found a priest who teaches catechism every day!” exclaimed Msgr.Cafiero. Even while serving in the army, he kept up his mission of teaching catechism. He wrote to his aunt Giovannina: “Please, I beg you, transmit privately and as secretly as possible a renewed plea to all the teachers of Pianura, asking their cooperation for the teaching of catechism after school. This has seemed to me to be God’s will and as such I am addressing it to you.” (Letter dated August 26,1918.) After the foundation of the Vocationary, Fr. Justin directed his students to read every morning the Catechism of Perseverance written by Abbott Gaume. The sisters on one particular occasion were worried and distressed that, because of the cold temperature, the dough was not rising and that they would not be able to bake the bread on time for dinner. They were apologizing to the founder for the anticipated delay and he answered them, “Call two hundred children into the room, teach them catechism, and the heat of their bodies, and much more of their hearts, which you will light up with the love of God, will make the dough rise.” Later on the bishop of Pozzuoli asked him to write the diocesan by-laws for the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine. Many member of the hierarchy, religious and lay people were greatly impressed and moved by his splendid presentation at the Catechetical Convention of the Archdiocese of Naples and by his lecture at the diocesan synod of Teggiano. Maybe someday a special book should be written on Fr. Justin as the apostle of catechism. He taught catechism with such dedication and ability that his audience kept growing every day. Everyone who attended his classes, would proselytize others, saying: “Do you want to come to Fr. Justin?” He used to alternate the teaching of catechism with songs; with a well-attuned voice he used to teach simple tunes, and then he would recognize games and competitions in which he himself would take part. With great and fascinating ability, he used to read passages from the Bible or from the lives of the saints. Often he organized outings. It was like a well-disciplined small army. He had up to two hundred children who would march in perfect order, singing some songs that he himself had written. One song went like this: “Jubilant brethren – with angels and saints With the heavens and the stars – let us sing to the Lord Our most beautiful songs – that come from the heart Glory and love to God our Redeemer Who in His great heart – embraced us all And in His sorrow – saved us all.”
In the church he used to concentrate on his prayers and he used to pray for many hours every day. Mr. Vincenzo Bavarella, who often saw him immersed in prayer and meditation, said: “A good day is pre-determined by its morning; here is one who wants to achieve the best success.” Some elderly ladies of Pianura had scruples about having missed some Masses, because while in church they were contemplating Justin in prayer!
As time went by, the anticipation for the priestly ordination of Justin kept growing. On September 3, 1913, writing to his aunt Michelina from Sorrento, he expressed his thoughts thus: “You should ask all those good people who teach catechism to the children in their homes and, if possible, to all the grammar school teachers, to bring all those boys and girls to Holy Communion on the day of my first Mass…. this is the most beautiful gift that could be given to me, all the rest means nothing.” On September 11, he started a spiritual retreat in preparation for his ordination. He had received the minor orders, or “ministries” as they are called today, on September 22, 1906. He became sub-deacon on July 28, 1912, and finally was ordained a deacon on March 22,1913, in the chapel of the seminary of Pozzuoli, the same chapel in which St. Francis De Gironimo, the Apostle of Naples, had been ordained. On all these occasions he had always asked for the prayers of his relatives and friends; for his priestly ordination. A providential rain, the night before his ordination, was interpreted as a sign from heaven. A persistent drought for over three months had rendered the unpaved roads of Pianura impassable. The procession escorting the newly ordained would have been moving in a dense cloud of dust! Around midnight a heavy rain restored fields, beasts and people alike. The Russolillo’s were still awake then, making last-minutes arrangements for the following day. “Tomorrow will be a very happy day,” said the jubilant mother.
On September 20, 1913, in the Cathedral of Pozzuoli, through the laying of the hands by the Most Reverend Michael Zezza, Justin was ordained priest. That morning, before the ordination, Fr. Justin, with the permission and approval of his spiritual director, made a vow of charity through which he committed himself to the foundation of the religious family of the “Servants of the Saint”, which was later established as “Society of Divine Vocations.” After the ordination, while relatives and friends were getting organized to escort the new priest to Pianura, Fr. Justin’s parents went to thank the bishop. The mother said, “…. we hope to thank you again in the near future also for the ordination of our son Michael.” “Oh, no! Michael is not Justin!” remarked the bishop. Relatives and friends had already noticed and expressed similar feeling comparing the behavior of the two brothers at the parish liturgies. Michael was very intelligent, a bundle of nerves and fire. He later became a well known-surgeon and taught at the University of Naples. Twenty-two floats, in addition to the horses and carriages, escorted the newly ordained Justin. The festive and jubilant procession attracted the attention and admiration of the people from Pozzuoli to Pianura. As the fireworks started in Pianura, the people crowded the roads and enthusiastically welcomed the new priest. The procession was starting its entrance into the church when all of a sudden crowds of people were seen running toward Naples Street. “What happened? An accident? A fight?” asked Justin’s family. It would have been pitiful on such a joyful day. But there was nothing wrong. Running potable water had finally arrived in town and the fountain was pouring out its first water. It was a new sight and new experience for the people of Pianura, who up to that date had had to use only water drawn out of wells. Was it a mere chance? It might have been; however, there is not better symbol of the spiritual water that for many years Fr. Justin would provide to thirsty-souls: the clear, pure and fertile water of the Word of God. Since 1910, Justin’s activities had begun to be eminently Vocationist. One day, years afterwards, Fr. Giacomo Vaccaro, S.D.V., asked Fr. Justin what to answer to people inquiring “Answer this way: It started from a priest who taught catechism every day.” Then he added, “While teaching catechism you will encounter young men and, discovering vocations, you will start to cultivate them.” A similar answer was given by Fr. Justin to Don Arsenio, a Brazilian bishop who retired to live the hermitic life at the Camaldoli. “How did the idea come to you?” asked the bishop. “ It has come to me through the teaching of catechism, continuous teaching of catechism,” replied Fr. Justin. In 1910, Justin organized a group of the “fedelissimi” (the most faithful); he initiated them into the study of Latin and love for religious life. Fr. Gillet had an expression: "Our relatives are the friends that God has given to us; our friends are the relatives that we choose for ourselves.” Throughout the school year, with permission of the superiors, Justin received the visits of these acquired relatives. Many admiring seminarians would go with him to the visiting room, some out of mere curiosity, others to offer candies or cookies (one of them offered several copies of the Bible) and others to be edified. Some of the seminarians promised to consecrate themselves to the future foundation. They, however, never kept their commitment. The group of “fedelissimi” did not miss any of Fr. Justin’s ordinations. For his first Mass they rented a horse and carriage exclusively for themselves and they were third in line in the procession, right after the immediate family. The priestly ordination of Fr. Justin should have opened for them the opportunity for community life, and indispensable prelude to religious life; by now these generous young boys knew everything about novitiate, vows, studies and activities. They were disappointed when Bishop Zezza assigned Justin to the seminary. In the month of October 1913, the pious pilgrimages of the “fedelissimi” started again from Pianura to Pozzuoli. The formalities were slightly different, but the purpose of the visits remained the same: I.e., to become priests in the future religious community. To alleviate the hardship of the ten-mile walk, often they used the services of Mr. Basil Polverino’s donkey, a patient beast that on good days moved quickly from Pianura to Pozzuoli; on bad days it would stubbornly park itself on the ground, expecting to be lifted up by the boys. On account of its bad humor, this poor beast died more from the beatings it used to get than from old age; this donkey had some successors who were named after it: “Uncle Basil’s donkey.” To spare his children the hardship of going back and forth and consequently wasting time, Fr. Justin started some efforts to have them live close by with the Capuchin Fathers; the problem, however, was solved by Divine Providence: a few months later, due to his poor health, Fr. Justin was reassigned to his home town.
It was a short honeymoon. Aunt Michelina was the cook and Fr. Justin would put on his white apron and serve them at the table. At night, after they had gone to bed, he would mend their torn clothes. The thrill lasted fifteen days; the bishop visiting the parish church in Soccavo sent for Fr. Justin and ordered him peremptorily to dismiss the children, thus terminating their first experience of community life. The good father suffered greatly for the foundation; he suffered even more knowing how the news would affect the first members of his religious family. Before returning to Pianura, he visited the Scherillo family; there an aunt to whom he had opened his heart gave him a wooden cross. Aunt Michelina and the aspirants, unaware of the bishop’s order, waited for Fr. Justin so they could have dinner together. He ate with them and was as peaceful and jovial as ever. At the end of the dinner he took the cross, and asked everyone to kiss it. Then, with meekness and persuasion, he announced: “We are children of the cross; we must sacrifice our will to the will of the superiors, as Jesus sacrificed his to the will of the Father.” On July 16, in a plea addressed to St. Pius X, Fr. Justin explained his program in order to obtain approval and encouragement. The Holy See, as usual, acted through the diocesan chancery, and it seemed that the outcome would be rather favorable. The bishop, however, through Msgr. Dell’Isola, who later became Bishop of Cava, renewed his opposition. Why? It was certainly his concern for Fr. Justin’s poor health and concern also for the aspirants, all from very poor families. The bishop’s denial may have been also influenced indirectly by Fr. Justin’s mother who, having three young daughters, was concerned about people gossiping.
The other aspirants continued to gather around their father and teacher in their native Pianura. Fr. Georgia Mele, S.D.V., used to recall some of the lessons received in the “pagliarella” (hut) in the Russolillo’s garden. “What did you eat today?” Fr. Justin would ask with fatherly care, and George would answer: “Potatoes.” “And what else,” Fr. Justin would continue. “Zucchini!” Their good humor alleviated the hardship of instruction for minds that had not been trained to learn and to retain knowledge. Whenever he was invited to participate in formal processions or solemn high Masses, Fr. Justin would graciously decline, declaring, “My mission is to teach young boys.” In addition to the small group of aspirants to the priesthood, Fr. Justin also cultivated a larger group called the “Volunteers of Jesus”; they wore tri-colored ribbons on their arms with the image of the Sacred Heart. They were a group of militants, precursors of “Catholic Action.” Their task was to protect public morality, foster and encourage participation in catechetical instruction and receive Communion daily. They would intervene wherever they saw obscene pictures, whenever they heard obscene language, whenever they discovered sinful relations or situations. The group leaders would commit themselves to wake up the others early in the morning so that they would not miss Holy Communion; likewise, they would lead them in good order and punctuality to the vespertin liturgies. They also guided them to march orderly and devoutly in the processions. On feast days, Fr. Justin used to shelter them from the dangers of the street, leading them on outings and organizing games in which he was both umpire and pacifier. He used to initiate the older ones into a social apostolate. For example, he wrote a short letter to all the barbers and invited them to his house to agree on a convenient hour for Sunday Mass. He invited the men to perform a section of “popular union of Italian Catholics”; in this enterprise, one of his first objectives was to solve the problem of public transportation, which was indispensable for the workers who had to commute to the city every day. On the eve of his entrance into the Vocationary, George Mele went around saying his good-byes to relatives and friends. At one of his visits, two young ladies, Rachele Marrone and Antonietta Costantino, remarked to him: “Only men must become saints? Tell Fr. Justin that we too wish a program of life to better serve and love the Lord.” Very quickly George went to Fr. Justin with the message and came back with the answer: “Come and you will get it.” The answer seemed kind of vague to Rachele, so she persisted: “Do I have to go alone or with others?”
Through the same messenger the answer came:
At the meeting, Fr. Justin invited them to strive for Christian perfection, and he pointed out to them the life of love as the only way to achieve it. Concluding, he said: "Pray that the Lord will send you someone capable of directing you.” Rachele answered for the group: “The Lord has already sent us our guide; you will direct us.” Fr. Justin accepted their request that he direct this group. After intense spiritual preparation, on August 15, 1914, in his own home before an image of the Blessed Mother, he consecrated as “Slaves of Mary” the first twelve ladies. One of them later commented, “Coming out of that experience I felt like the apostles coming out of the cenacle after receiving the Holy Spirit.” Each one of them was given and accepted the task of multiplying the Slaves of Mary. The growth exceeded every expectation. On March 25, 1915, after a month of intense preparation, the Slaves of Mary mobilized the town of Pianura; on the feast of the Annunciation, they organized groups of people from every neighborhood and at the same hour all these groups started moving in an organized fashion toward the Church of the Holy Rosary. They marched in procession, praying and singing. The various small groups came together, forming a big army that couldn’t fit into the small church; there were more people outside than in. A new wave of spirituality was pervading Pianura.
Fr. Justin’s health could not withstand the rigors of military life. On the day of departure for the front, the commander of the unit, convinced that the soldier Russolillo would not have made it to the station under the heavy load of the backpack, hired a young boy who was very happy to march next to the soldier carrying his pack. A few soldiers complained about the special privilege given to Fr. Justin, but the majority of them felt sorry for that skinny priest. One of the soldiers on the first march was overheard saying, “If I should ever decide to go to confession, I would go only to him.” With the military unit Fr. Justin experienced some very hectic days but also days of peaceful rest. On June 9, 1918, he wrote: "I am an assistant to a doctor in a section with three beds and no sick people,” on August 5,1918, he wrote: "I am so busy that you could not believe it. There are one hundred beds here and I am the only attendant.” The military bishop, having come to know the charity, abnegation and industry with which Justin was fulfilling his duty, gave him a solemn and public recognition. Certainly Fr. Justin wasn’t happy to join the army, even though he loved Italy very much. He was greatly grieved by the profanities of the soldiers around him. Many times he would go to bed early so he would not have to listen to their blasphemies and foul language, but some of the soldiers would purposely raise their voices and abound in profanities, knowing well that this would bother the poor priest. He was also grieved realizing that the war would delay the realization of his mission. “Oh, how I cherish the sweet hope of returning for good to my ministry and to the beautiful school which also is a part of my priestly ministry. Blessed be God forever and ever,” he wrote in a letter on August 5 1918. There were several encouragements and occasions for Fr. Justin to get out of the army. Fr. Angelo Ziccardi, SJ., being with Fr. Justin at weapons training in Pozzuoli, would very willingly shoot in place of Fr. Justin at target practice. Fr. Justin didn’t even want to touch the gun. After marching back to the barracks, the same priest, seeing Fr. Justin changing his tee shirt, was astonished to see that Justin was such a frail human being. He advised the servant of God to go for sick call and realized that Justin was unwilling because he knew that the army doctor would easily descend into profanities and blasphemies. Fr. Ziccardi, who was a professor of philosophy at the Pontifical Seminary, insisted, “Actiones sunt suppositorm.”: “You are not accountable for the outbursts of that crazy guy.” Fr. Justin was convinced and he reported to the doctor for a checkup. When the doctor saw him naked, a walking skeleton, he bust out with the filthiest expressions against those who drafted that “spider”; the doctor sent him home, recommending that he be discharged at once. Unfortunately, he was not discharged but was called back. Another opportunity came when a special law allowed soldiers with a bachelor degree to become Quartermaster Officers after passing physical examinations. Fr. Justin tried to take advantage of this new law but was rejected by the medical commission because he was too weak. Naturally, there was no logic in the decision of the medical examiners. If he was unable to withstand this light work, how could he withstand the much heavier labor he was already engaged in? His relatives appealed to her majesty Queen Elena to intervene and correct the injustice. Consequently, he was called to Florence for another physical examination and, this time, he was dismissed from the army on account of poor health, when the war was about to end. A short note in Fr. Justin’s spiritual diary, written only a few months before his death, may give us an idea of how he felt about his military service: “9-30-54. Anniversary of my liberation from military service.” The unpleasant experience of military life could not force Fr. Justin to neglect the groups of people that he was guiding. As long as Fr. Justin was in Naples, the “fedelissimi” bravely walked from Pianura so that they could serve his Mass and could continue to receive Latin classes and exhortations on the practice of virtues. It was Fr. Justin’s ideal and dream to make of every employee, professional, politician and head of state a true religious of God; he dreamed of families, cities and countries becoming true religious of God according to Jesus Christ. Fr. Justin combined words and actions. One day he went to a barber shop to get a haircut. At the end, the barber sprayed and meticulously combed his hair. Fr. Justin let him do it but afterward, as soon as he walked out of the shop, with his hands he ruffled up his hair again. “What a sin!” exclaimed the future Fr. Saggiomo, “It looked so good.” “Vanity is sin,” Fr. Justin corrected him. From time to time even the young ladies who had started the journey toward perfection would arrive in groups at Vomero where he would say Mass for them in the Convent of the Franciscan Missionaries of Mary and exhort them to persevere in their holy ideal. Often he was given leave to go home. The first time he went to Pianura in his military uniform, he was surrounded by many friends who were both curious and mortified at seeing him in that attire. Large groups of people always formed by his house to celebrate his homecoming; naturally, the first and the noisiest were always the “fedelissimi,” Often he would celebrate Mass at 4:00 a.m. before returning to the army base, and boys and girls would crowd the church at 3:00 a.m. He was home when he heard the news of the defeat at Caporetto; the troops had been decimated and humiliated and now needed reinforcement; he had to go. The “fedelissimi” found out the hour of his departure and decided to be there both for their own and his consolation, bringing as gifts bags of food for the long journey. That afternoon, Giovannina, Fr. Justin’s sister arriving at the house of aunt Michelina, found her petrified by grief, surrounded by the boys in tears and the various bags of food; they had arrived too late for the departure. From the front he would write letters addressed to the “Souls of Pianura who are militating toward the heavenly country.” During that time he wrote and sent a handwritten booklet of Devotions for the month of May. Unexpected fruit of this long agony caused by the war was the project of founding the Vocationist Sisters. Fr. Justin had always been thinking about the Vocationist Fathers so much that when Fr. Fancesco Sepe, S.D.V., wanted to know about the origins of the community he answered, “I cannot be precise about the time, but I can assure you that the thought was born with me.” On another occasion, Fr. Justin said, “I could show you the seminary room where I made a vow to found the congregation.” When the Vocationist Sisters later on went to work in the seminary of Pozzuoli, Fr. Justin confided to them, “ I am very pleased that they gave you the rooms in which I made a vow of founding the congregation.” This clearly indicates that his dream had become a duty and, anticipating the possible difficulties, he had committed himself to its realization with a vow. He had not thought of founding a religious community for women; in fact, he had explicitly renounced such a project. The pious Christian ladies, he thought should have supported the Vocationary and the work of the Vocationist Fathers without being “religious.” As a matter of fact, when Bishop Farina of Troia, founder of the Oblate Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, visited him in Pianura, he jokingly asked: “ Who has perverted you to found the sisters?” The two had discussed the issue several times together; on the example of St. Ignatius he had always been against founding a religious community of sisters. In Mestre he saw the sisters of St. Bartolomea Capitanio working hard in the hospital and he convinced himself that in order to solve the logistic problems that would face the religious community of men, it was necessary to have a religious community of women. Mary and Joseph are needed to raise the Baby Jesus who lives in those who are called to the priesthood. During one of his visits to Pianura, while he was in the army, he announced: “Non est bonum hominem esse solum,” which means: "It is not good for man to be alone.” From Florence he wrote to the Ferraro sisters, “I am thinking of you for a project that we want to realize together in order to please God.” More explicitly he wrote to his sister Giovannina, “If God wants to use me for a religious congregation of sisters (as I have in mind) you could be the first or one of the first."
With the approval of the bishop and the permission of the pastor,
the Pious Union was officially established February 1,1919; its goal
were to promote s
Throughout his life, Fr. Justin kept fostering a spirituality in complete harmony with the liturgy; he thought that the various colors – white, red, green and purple – remind us of and nourish the official spirituality that flows from the sacrifice of the cross. The Pious Union was given the task of establishing centers of prayer in every section of the town in preparation for the consecration to the Sacred Heart. The Pious Union and the fervor it caused kept increasing every day. The young priest would intervene only for the final arrangements. Colorful decorations, lights and religious songs gave special vitality and vibration to every street until late at night. Every street or section of it consecrated to the Sacred Heart was given a special religious name, such as “Of the Sacred Heart,” or “Of the Seven Spirits Assisting at the Throne of God…” Fr. Justin elected twelve members of the Pious Union from the group of the “Effectives” and, with the blessing of the pastors, sent them two by two for the apostolate into the various suburbs of Pianura. Parents gave maximum freedom to their daughters on account of the high esteem they had for the young priest; they knew that their daughters were safe when they were following Fr. Justin to Masseria Grande, where he was chaplain, or to Torre Caracciolo. These young ladies wanted to make sure that they would not miss any of his sermons. The young men in town were not so happy about this excess of devotion. Even Fr. Justin’s brothers, maybe instigated by the local clergy, showed some reservations. Francesco, the older brother, felt a need to warn his mother. “Mother, please watch after Justin!” They did not doubt him, they were only afraid that he might get into trouble with some unscrupulous young men; they did not need to worry, however – the candor of the pious priest dispersed every shadow of doubt. Above the parish church of Pianura there were some large rooms; the young ladies of the Pious Union used to gather there to pray and to work for vocations. Everything was going smoothly until the pastor’s sister started to influence her brother against them. There followed moments of tension and hints of eviction.
In the meantime, the Bishop of Pozzuoli had been promoted to head the Archdiocese of Naples; but Bishop Ragosta, who had been appointed apostolic administrator of the diocese of Pozzuoli, did not want to lose Fr. Justin. The providence of God intervened through an unforeseen and painful happening: suddenly, the pastor, Fr. Giosue Scotto, died of pneumonia. Soon, a self – appointed committee was and one morning the city of Pianura was seen decorated by multicolored billboards proclaiming, “Long live the Pope. Long live the Bishop. Long live Fr. Justin, pastor.” Fr. Justin did not appreciate the unrefrained zeal and was grieved by the episode. He had no intention of seeking the pastorship, both because he wanted to maintain the necessary freedom for the realization of his plans and out of respect for his Confirmation sponsors, Fr. Salvatore Di Fusco, who was aspiring to that position. The bishop saw the solution to the “Russolillo Case” in convincing Fr. Justin to seek the pastorship of the vacant parish; he sent Msgr. Csusa to Pianura to talk and convince Fr. Justin to apply for the pastorship. His affirmative decision was welcomed with unprecedented expressions of joy. On September 20, 1920, after having spent a week in spiritual retreat with the Dominican Fathers, Fr. Justin was installed as pastor of St. Georgio’s parish in Pianura. Fr. Justin ascended the pulpit and began his pastorship announcing his motto, which was also printed on the holy cards prepared for the occasion: “The son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and give his life for the ransom of many.” After the ceremony, a large crowd escorted him home. Present at the installation were, among others, Jesuits and Camaldolesi priests –from both active and contemplative life – representing the happy union that Fr. Justin would realize: “Contemplative in action and action for contemplation.” In trying to introduce Fr. Justin’s family, the first place naturally goes to his mother. Giuseppina never tried to hide her preference for Justin. The other children did not resent this; they knew he deserved it. Fr. Justin, on several occasions, admitted that he had taken after his mother. In his early childhood Justin did not spend much time in his home. He was constantly visiting his uncles and aunts, who were always happy to welcome him, and that is why when he was home he was particularly welcomed and spoiled. One day Giovannina, who was a little jealous of the attention her brother was receiving, said to her mother, “Why do you make all this fuss over this stranger?” Her mother corrected her, saying, “No, daughter, Justin is my child like you are. He is your brother and you must love him.”
|
The “Umberto Primo College” was renowned for its high standards.
Justin went to the exams wearing his clerical attire, which was not
a positive recommendation, since at that time the Masonic liberals
had absolute control of the Department of Education in Italy. The
“little priest” disarmed everyone by responding promptly, accurately
and modestly to their questions. One of the professors said, “Young
man, get rid of that garb; you may have a brilliant future ahead of
you.” The president of the examining faculty was the first one to
congratulate Justin. All the professors shook his hand admiring his
intelligence and his virtue. For achieving an “A” average in all
subjects, he was refunded the student fee paid for the exams. The
bishop was very happy and proud of Justin’s outstanding success,
which reflected well on the whole seminary, and praised and kissed
him. Justin’s pre-theology year followed, then four years of
theology. Since the bishop used to exempt all those who scored very
high in dogmatic theology from the exams in moral theology, Justin
never had to take them.
