Saint Lawrence Phạm Viết Ngôn

Lawrence Phạm Viết Ngôn was born in 1840 in the parish of Lục Thủy, Giao Thủy district, in what was then the Central Vicariate, now the Bùi Chu area. It is coastal country, rice field after rice field and Catholic village after Catholic village, where church bells ring out over the bamboo hedges.

He married young. At twenty-two he already had a wife, a small child and an aging mother to care for. People remembered him as a loving husband and father, and nothing more remarkable than that: a young countryman who worked for a living and prayed morning and evening with his family, like thousands of other young Catholics in the region.

But in those years, under Emperor Tự Đức, every Catholic village lived in fear. Under the edict of dispersal, Catholics were taken from their own villages, scattered among other villages and kept under watch, and they lost their fields and homes. A man like Ngôn, with a whole family depending on him, could hardly help being afraid.

The first time he was arrested, Ngôn was afraid. His family raised money and bought his release. The old accounts do not hide this, and neither should we.

And who could blame him? A young wife, a small child and an old mother were waiting for him at home. A man of twenty, facing the cangue and the rod, thought of the people he loved and looked for a way home. That is a very human fear, and if we are honest, each of us knows it in ourselves.

But buying his way out did not bring him peace. Perhaps he realized he had escaped prison but not the question in his heart: next time, if they order me to step on the cross, what will I do?

On September 8, 1861, he was arrested again. This time he was taken to the camp at An Xá, Đông Quan district.

In the camp he was sick with longing for home. He missed his mother, his wife, his little child. At one point he managed to slip home for a visit. But he had not run away for good. He went to see the faces of the people he loved and urge them to stay firm in the faith, and then he came back to stand trial. The man who had once been afraid now walked back through the prison gate on his own.

At the trial, the judge looked at the young man and tried to win him over, aiming straight for the softest place in his heart:

“You are still young; why are you so foolish as to want to die? Step over the Cross and you will be released and sent home to your wife and child.”

Home to his wife and child: that was what he wanted most in the world, and it was only one step away. But Ngôn answered:

“I keep the faith and worship the Lord of heaven and earth. The Cross is the means God used to save humanity; I can only venerate it, never trample on it.”

This time, he no longer bargained with his fear.

On May 22, 1862, Ngôn was led to the An Triêm execution ground, also in Đông Quan district. In the crowd that day were two women: his mother and his wife.

Think of that mother. Twenty-two years earlier she had given birth to him, and now she stood watching her son kneel down. And think of the young wife, not long married, whose child could not yet say “Daddy” properly. They did not hold him back. They stood there and stayed with him to the end.

Ngôn was beheaded at twenty-two.

He was beatified on April 29, 1951, and canonized on June 19, 1988. His own feast day is May 22.

Many people think saints are people who were never weak. Lawrence Ngôn shows otherwise. He had been afraid and had once taken the easier road. Then he was given another chance, and this time he stood firm.

If you have had a moment of weakness, if you have chosen what was safe over what was right, Ngôn’s story says gently: last time was not the final time. God is still waiting for you at the next one.