Dear Friends of the Kolbe Center,
Christ is born! Glorify Him!
Two days before Christmas we celebrated the feast of St. John Cantius, the fifteenth century Polish priest and professor. One of the most famous miracles in the life of St. John Cantius is known as “The Miracle of the Jug.”
The Miracle of the Jug
In the words of the Missio Dei website:
One day, St. John Cantius (to use the common Latin form of his name) saw a girl who had just dropped a jug of milk, which she was about to sell to provide for her household. The jug broke, and its contents spilled onto the ground. According to the legend, St. John Cantius picked up the pieces of the jug, and it was miraculously made whole again. Like Our Lord at the Wedding Feast in Cana, St. John Cantius told the girl to fill the jug with water, which turned into a “rich sweet milk.”
St. John Cantius’ life was an example of Our Lord’s words in the Gospel reading for today’s feast, exhorting us to “[give] expecting nothing back.” The saint spent his life performing countless works of charity. A highly intelligent priest, he was a professor at a Polish university, where he instructed others in the Truth. His great charity influenced all that he did, including his teaching at the university. He once famously said, “Fight all error, but do it with good humor, patience, kindness, and love. Harshness will damage your own soul and spoil the best cause.”
The painting of “The Miracle of the Jug” shown above hangs over the main altar of St. John Cantius Church in Chicago. The Canons of St. John Cantius who care for the parish are dedicated to the restoration of the Sacred Liturgy, and they see in the miracle a metaphor for the destruction and restoration of the Liturgy of the Roman Rite. In the words of the parish website:
It might be said that this miracle is exceeded by its lesson.
Today, it’s not hard to see our world, our country, our city, and even our lives are often like broken jugs. So much is broken and needs restoring. But that’s not to say being broken is to never have been sacred. Quite the opposite.
Think of the Garden of Eden. There everything was intrinsically sacred. But with the first sin comes brokenness. Something of the sacred was lost in humanity and in creation that needed restoring. That brokenness—that felix culpa—can lead to an even greater restoration, something deeper than if we had never been broken at all. Somehow, by embracing our brokenness we also embrace another, higher opportunity to be filled with God’s mercy, His grace, His love—indeed, His very self. Who among us doesn’t need that kind of deep restoration? To pick up the pieces, be put back together, and be made whole again, and again. Father John’s miracle teaches us that nothing is beyond repair. Nothing is wasted.
As we contemplate the division and fragmentation that has taken place in recent years, even within the community of traditional Catholics, this miracle takes on an even greater significance, as a foreshadowing of the future glorious restoration of Catholic culture throughout the world.
“Don’t Cry Over Spilt Milk”
When I was a boy, in New York City, in the 1950’s and early 60’s, it was still common for children and adults alike to say to one another when something bad had happened, “Don’t cry over spilt milk.” Growing up in Manhattan, I always thought there was something funny about this expression. After all, who would “cry over spilt milk,” when you could just go to the corner store or the supermarket and buy some? I didn’t realize that the widespread use of this expression testified to the fact that, even in the 1950’s and 60’s, huge numbers of Manhattanites could actually remember growing up on a farm where milking a cow was a rite of passage for millions of Americans. It was only after my wife and I had moved our family to Shenandoah County, Virginia, purchased some land, and started to raise our own animals, that I finally understood the poignancy of the expression “Don’t cry over spilt milk,” and the depth of gratitude that the milkmaid must have felt toward St. John Cantius for obtaining the Miracle of the Jug on her behalf.
Our first experiment with animal husbandry involved two milk goats who came to us already named Sugar and Spice. Sugar allowed two of my daughters and me to milk her graciously, but Spice lived up to her name and practiced what I liked to call “the reverse can-can” whenever we tried to milk her. We had a friend who had grown up on a farm and knew how to manage every kind of farm animal, so we asked him to lend us a hand. After a few minutes of wrestling with Spice, however, our friend declared her incorrigible and told us that we should turn her in for another goat! By the grace of God, we decided not to follow our friend’s advice. Instead, my daughters and I prayed the Rosary continuously during each milking session, and eventually Spice had a “conversion” of sorts and actually allowed us to milk her without resistance. To this day, I remember the wonderful flavor of that goat’s milk when it had just been taken, before any “goaty flavor” had set in. It was the most delicious milk I have ever tasted, enhanced, no doubt, by the realization that God had granted three bumbling novices a miracle of conversion. I also remember the grief we experienced when one of our goats accidentally kicked over our milking bowl and spilled its precious contents on to the ground! Ah, yes, I finally understood the meaning of that expression that I had heard and repeated so many times in my childhood, “Don’t cry over spilt milk!”
Annie
Years later, a friend of ours needed a place to keep her milk cow, Annie, so my youngest son and I were initiated into the ritual of morning and evening milkings of a dairy cow. Annie cooperated with us, and yet the relentless ritual of morning and evening milkings, day in and day out, in every kind of weather, taught us an even greater appreciation for the tragedy of “spilt milk.” Milking Annie was an experience so intimate that we learned that we could not perform it while in a disturbed state of mind; and the quantities of milk that Annie gave us far exceeded what we had ever been able to obtain from Sugar or Spice, so that the accidental kicking over of a bowl of her milk truly represented a major calamity!
I have no doubt that the vocation of one of our daughters to religious life as a Benedictine of Mary was awakened by the experience of milking Sugar and Spice and by the other opportunities for gardening and animal husbandry that she received growing up on our land in Shenandoah County. I hope and pray that in 2025 all of our beloved readers will have the opportunity to work with plants and animals in God’s creation, and, yes, to appreciate the profound meaning of the words, “Don’t cry over spilt milk.” More than that, I pray that we will all live our consecration to Jesus through Mary in every moment so as to hasten the Triumph of the Immaculate Heart and the social reign of Christ Our King, when all our divisions will be healed and the practice and proclamation of our Holy Faith will be fully restored!
Yours in the Christ-Child, through the Holy Theotokos, in union with St. Joseph,
Hugh Owen
P.S. The 2025 Kolbe leadership retreat will take place at the Catholic Conference Center in Hickory, North Carolina, from July 31 to August 6. The retreat will equip attendees to defend and promote the traditional Catholic doctrine of creation in their spheres of influence as the foundation of our Faith and as the only firm foundation for a culture of life. For more information and to register for the retreat, please contact Hugh Owen at howen@shentel.net.
