He is of another time, when piety and subservience to the Catholic Church were paramount in average Quebeckers’ lives.
Yet more than 70 years after his death – in a secular age when church attendance is anemic and the institution is under fire for its alleged role in the cover-up of priests’ sexual abuse of children – Brother André’s star is burning bright.
Next Sunday, the lay brother who became a legendary healer of the sick and afflicted will be elevated into the rarefied sphere of sainthood at a canonization ceremony at St. Peter’s Square in Rome, presided over by Pope Benedict XVI.
To mark the occasion, St. Joseph’s Oratory of Mount Royal – the massive basilica in Montreal built on the grounds where Brother André’s first chapel honoring Joseph was erected in 1904 – is staging a series of masses and special events, including a live giant-screen broadcast of the canonization ceremony.
For the Roman Catholic Church and the oratory, it’s an opportunity to get some much-needed good news out, as well as to spread the word about Brother André to the secular world.
“I get the sense that among Quebecois, [Brother André] is viewed as ‘one of our own,’ ” said Father Charles Corso, who heads the pastoral services at the Oratory. “Here is this ordinary Québécois who is now recognized worldwide. Any Québécois with a scintilla of spiritual feeling has to feel a sense of pride, of good pride.”
To attain the status of sainthood, Brother André, whose legend as a miracle worker grew over his long life span, had to have two of his alleged miracles verified and confirmed by the church. The institution insists on keeping the details of the alleged miracles confidential.
The Archbishop of Montreal, Cardinal Jean-Claude Turcotte, recently called Brother André – born Alfred Bessette in 1845, an orphan who could barely read and write and became the doorkeeper and janitor at Collège Notre-Dame, across the street from the basilica – a folk hero, akin to hockey great Maurice Richard in the hearts of Quebeckers.
On a radiant, sunny fall day, Esther Lemay stands in front of the massive Oratory and muses about the significance for ordinary Quebeckers of Brother André’s canonization. “He was someone close to the people, he was a man of the people, devoted to them,” said Ms. Lemay, 75, who lives in Shawinigan.
The oratory is playing up Brother André’s common touch with a major advertising campaign that includes television spots and radio ads and even a website. Its public-relations team will post updates, live from the ceremony in Rome, to social media networks such as Facebook and Twitter. The ad campaign’s tagline is “Brother André, a Friend, a Brother, a Saint.”
On Oct. 30, a gigantic celebration is planned for Montreal’s Olympic Stadium, with as many as 50,000 people expected.
Father Corso doesn’t see a contradiction between the prominence now given to Brother André in the monumental basilica – his tomb and the furniture from the hospital room in which he died in 1937 are there, his heart is on display in a glass case, there are statues of him and a chapel to his memory – and the saint-to-be’s legendary devotion to a life of poverty and simplicity.
“At some point, Brother André must have known he was a famous person, but he kept his humility,” Father Corso said.
He also brushes aside critics who say there is something creepy about Brother André’s habit of urging the sick and the lame to rub “St. Joseph’s oil” – oil that had been heated in front of a statue of St. Joseph – into their skin, or rub medals of St. Joseph against their wounds.
“He himself said that these objects were to be used as a physical embodiment of prayer,” he said. “We are quite aware that some people may be looking for magical effects and we do not encourage that. We want a healthy spirituality.”
