|
On His Life
Isidore was literally born into a family of saints
in sixth century Spain. Two of his brothers, Leander
and Fulgentius, and one of his sisters, Florentina,
are revered as saints in Spain. It was also a family
of leaders and strong minds with Leander and
Fulgentius serving as bishops and Florentina as
abbess.
This didn't make life easier for Isidore. To the
contrary, Leander may have been holy in many ways,
but his treatment of his little brother shocked many
even at the time. Leander, who was much older than
Isidore, took over Isidore's education and his
pedagogical theory involved force and punishment. We
know from Isidore's later accomplishments that he
was intelligent and hard-working so it is hard to
understand why Leander thought abuse would work
instead of patience.

One day, the young boy couldn't take any more.
Frustrated by his inability to learn as fast as his
brother wanted and hurt by his brother's treatment,
Isidore ran away. But though he could escape his
brother's hand and words, he couldn't escape his own
feeling of failure and rejection. When he finally
let the outside world catch his attention, he
noticed water dripping on the rock near where he
sat. The drops of water that fell repeatedly carried
no force and seemed to have no effect on the solid
stone. And yet he saw that over time, the water
drops had worn holes in the rock.
Isidore realized that if he kept working at his
studies, his seemingly small efforts would
eventually pay off in great learning. He also may
have hoped that his efforts would also wear down the
rock of his brother's heart.
His love of learning made him promote the
establishment of a seminary in every diocese of
Spain. He didn't limit his own studies and didn't
want others to as well. In a unique move, he made
sure that all branches of knowledge including the
arts and medicine were taught in the seminaries.
Still trying to wear away
rock with water, he helped convert the barbarian
Visigoths from Arianism to Christianity. He lived
until almost 80. As he was dying his house was
filled with crowds of poor he was giving aid and
alms to. One of his last acts was to give all his
possessions to the poor.
When he died in 636, this Doctor of the Church had
done more than his brother had ever hoped; the light
of his learning caught fire in Spanish minds and
held back the Dark Ages of barbarism from Spain. But
even greater than his outstanding mind must have
been the genius of his heart that allowed him to see
beyond rejection and discouragement to joy and
possibility.
|