His life
Source: Google Books
Juniper was one of those men who could exclaim with the Apostle: We are fools for Christ’s sake. Francis of Assisi had begun with the folly of the cross; his entire life was in accordance with this blessed folly, chosen to confound worldly wisdom, and he valued his disciples according to how closely they approached it. Juniper therefore had a special place in his affection; he was, in his eyes, the perfect example of a true Minor Brother: “Not only,” he said, “do I not blush at this brother’s simplicity, but I fervently wish that God would give me many men like him.”
He had joined the saint as early as 1210, and without delay applied himself to laying the foundations of high perfection. Humility, patience, contempt for the world and for oneself—these were his favorite virtues. From this sprang for him unshakable peace, gentle joy, and deep contentment amid rebukes, insults, indignities, ill-treatment, and even the gravest dangers. The trials of this world seemed to him like precious stones destined to adorn his crown; everywhere he collected them with pious care and sought opportunities to acquire new ones, even going so far as to perform actions that might have been blameworthy if they had not been inspired by God.
Thus, once in Viterbo and another time in Spoleto, he went out into the square among a large crowd, in an attire that made everyone call him a fool and even drew the playful pursuit of children. Upon returning to the convent, his brothers spared him neither blame, admonitions, nor harsh words; he received everything with great joy, and said to those in Viterbo: “Continue, my friends, your words are to me priceless pearls, imperishable treasures.” To the superior in Spoleto he replied: “It is true, Father, I deserve punishment for my conduct. Very well! Send me back as I came, dressed the same way and by the same path.” The superior, disarmed by these words, understood the spirit guiding his actions.
Juniper took particular care to guard his senses; his soul was like a fortress whose approaches he defended and whose gates he kept carefully closed. When earthly thoughts arose, he would dismiss them, exclaiming: “Withdraw, the place is taken; there is no room left for you. I cannot admit such wicked guests; there is too much danger in your company.”
Once, his superior rebuked him for too easily engaging in conversation at the door he was assigned to, thereby losing the spirit of prayer and fervor. Juniper remained six months in perpetual silence, offering the sacrifice of his tongue to God and the saints. Otherwise, his conversations were entirely spiritual; the name of God was constantly on his lips when speaking either to his brothers or to outsiders, and he abhorred unnecessary talk.
He also devoted himself to caring for the sick. Their sufferings inspired him with tender compassion; he found no rest until he had provided them some relief. The poor held a large place in his heart; he would even give them his clothing, and as this happened often, the superior had to command him in obedience not to continue. He then resorted to a method that reveals the ingenuous simplicity of his soul. A few days after this prohibition, when a poor man asked him for alms, he said: “I have nothing to give you except this garment, and I have been forbidden by obedience to give it; but if you wish to take it yourself, I promise not to stand in your way.” And when the poor man stripped him of his robe, he went to tell his superior of the event, who merely shrugged and smiled. His generosity did not end there; he would give away the convent’s books, church linens, and the coats of other brothers, so that it was necessary to leave nothing within his reach and to issue the strictest prohibitions.
Now, this man, whose simplicity might so often appear eccentric and verge on madness, was feared by hell more than any other religious of the Seraphic order; the devil could not bear his presence and fled from him, so much did his virtue inspire terror. Indeed, he had placed the cross of Jesus Christ in his heart, and this sacred tree bore in him the incorruptible fruits of patience, strength, charity, and mortification, which make the soul of the righteous as formidable as an army in battle formation.
The good brother reached great old age; in his later years he had for a companion a religious man worthy of him through invincible patience, unquestioning obedience, and courage to endure insults and worldly contempt. This companion died before Juniper, and he mourned him bitterly. “Now,” he said, “there remains only my own death; life has been broken for me.”
He thus sighed day by day for the supreme moment, and devoted himself with extraordinary fervor to contemplating the wonders of divine love; his prayer, already so fervent, took on new ardor. God granted him singular graces in these last times; one day in the church, he was carried off in ecstasy for several hours, and he saw the bliss prepared for the Lord’s friends. Returning to himself, he exclaimed with rapture: “O my brothers, O my brothers, why can we not endure a little work and suffering to gain eternal life?” And he added marvelous things about the glory reserved for humility.
The holy Brother Juniper died in 1258, under the generalship of Saint Bonaventure, and was buried in Rome at the convent of Ara-Coeli. He had lived forty-eight years in religious life, never failing in any way in his humility.