Saint Joseph Trần Văn Tuấn

Joseph Trần Văn Tuấn was born in 1824 in the village of Nam Điền, Phú Nhai parish, into a farming family. He grew up with the wide fields of Nam Định, the soaring church of Phú Nhai and evening prayers with his family.

Like so many country boys, he was used to sun and rain, to mud and the hard work of farming. There was nothing remarkable about him and he held no office in the parish. He was simply a hard-working farmer with a fervent faith.

In 1861 Emperor Tự Đức’s edict of dispersal was put into effect. Tuấn was arrested at thirty-six, taken to Xuân Trường prefecture and then sent to live in the village of An Bái, Thụy Anh district.

In August 1861 they carved the words “Tả Đạo” (“false religion”) on one cheek and the name of his hometown on the other. It was done so that the dispersed could not run away. Wherever he went, his face would give away who he was and where he came from.

Think of it: a gentle farmer who had never broken a law now bore a criminal’s marks on his face. Whenever people looked at him, those two marks were the first thing they saw.

In the months he was held at An Bái, Tuấn went hungry and thirsty, and his health failed badly. The mandarin reckoned that once the body was broken, a man would agree to anything to go home. They laid a holy image on the ground and told him to step on it.

Tuấn did not step on it. He knelt before it in reverence. That was his answer, and it needed no words.

In those days he still prayed in simple words:

“O Lord! I thank You with all my heart for Your boundless love and Your mercy as wide as the sea. You are the strength that holds me up!”

Hungry, thirsty and humiliated, he still gave thanks. That is what astonishes us most about people like him.

On June 7, 1862, Tuấn was led to the execution ground of Nam Định. He knelt on a flowered mat, calling on the name of Jesus. Then the sword fell.

It was two years before the faithful could bring his body back to be buried at the church of Nam Điền. After two years in a strange place, he came home at last.

He was beatified on April 29, 1951, and canonized on June 19, 1988. His own feast day is June 7.

Tuấn left no sermons or memorable sayings. What people remember is a gesture: kneeling instead of trampling.

Today few of us will ever be forced to step on a holy image. But every day we still choose whether to treat holy things lightly or to stop and bow our heads. Tuấn reminds us that sometimes a bended knee says more than any words.