Perhaps one of the most famous prophecies of Christianity is the one that was never made, in which we are told that in the New Covenant, the lion would lie down with the lamb. Jesus himself never spoke these words. It was Isaiah who made the claim, albeit using different animals, when he spoke about the coming Messiah.

“Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them” (Isaiah 11:6).

Over the intervening millennia, that single verse has been abbreviated and paraphrased until we get the familiar depiction of a lion lying down beside the lamb. An image intended to connote that with God, all things, even the reconciliation of natural enemies, are possible.

It was not until I read G.K. Chesterton, that great English wit and Catholic apologist, that I understood the term “lion laying down with the lamb” in a different way. In his brilliant work, Orthodoxy, Chesterton writes:

It is constantly assured, especially in our Tolstoyan tendencies, that when the lion lies down with the lamb the lion becomes lamb-like. But that is brutal annexation and imperialism on the part of the lamb. That is simply the lamb absorbing the lion instead of the lion eating the lamb. The real problem is — Can the lion lie down with the lamb and still retain his royal ferocity? That is the problem the Church attempted; that is the miracle she achieved.

Suddenly I understood it differently. It is not just the impossible reconciliation between external enemies that can happen with Christ. The warring factions of our very souls can be brought to peace, working together to glorify God. Chesterton specifically cites St. Louis, in whose soul he says the lion and the lamb lay side by side, but Church history is filled with men and women whose lives reveal this miraculous paradox. Mothers, fathers, kings, queens, nuns and priests, all of whom somehow maintained both the sweetness and timidity of lambs, while loving and following Christ with the ferocity of lions. They are the testimonials to this great miracle that Christ’s Church achieved.

St. Agnes of Assisi, the gentle younger sister of the more famous St. Clare of Assisi, is hardly known for her fierceness. She never carried a banner into battle, nor did she travel overseas to found missions in foreign lands. Her life was a quiet one, lived out in prayer and service, and when she died few noted her passing outside of her order.

St. Agnes, born Caterina Offreducia, was the daughter of an Italian nobleman, born to a life of privilege. However, when her sister left their father’s house to follow St. Francis of Assisi in his new mission, Caterina waited only a few weeks before she followed suit. The departure of a second daughter into a life of poverty was too much for her worldly father. He and her uncle sent armed men to pursue the teenager, prepared to resort to violence if necessary to bring her home.

Gentle Caterina, who wanted nothing more than to follow the example of her older sister and live a quiet monastic life under the direction of St. Francis, nonetheless squared her slight shoulders. Armed only with her love of God and her trust that he had called her to this new life, she went out to meet her would-be captors. With threats and beatings, they tried to force her to return with them to her father’s house. Silently, Caterina endured their brutality, refusing to submit to their demands.

When one of them prepared to deliver a heavy blow to render her unconscious, he found that his arms were suddenly paralyzed. Another tried to forcibly drag her with them, but she became supernaturally heavy and they were unable to move her. These miracles are often attributed to the intercession of her sister, who stood nearby, and perhaps they were, but it was Caterina who had withstood the violence against her person, trusting God to deliver her as he saw fit.

Eventually, the men left in defeat, and St. Francis welcomed Caterina to his growing number of followers. Shortly after, he gave her a new name, Agnes, literally lamb, in honor of her gentle manners and sweet soul.

True to her new name, Agnes lived out the remainder of her days in quiet obedience, joining her sister’s order and establishing communities of Poor Clares throughout Italy. She spent her final months nursing Clare, who once again led the way for her younger sister, entering eternity three months before Agnes.

Canonized in the 18th century, Agnes of Assisi is not one of the Church’s most famous saints. Yet in her life we have the superlative privilege of witnessing Isaiah’s miraculous, if misquoted, prophecy come true. The sweet lamb, who laid her life at Christ’s feet, bore the great test of her love with the fierce heart of a lion, neither diminished by the strength of the other.

St. Agnes of Assisi, pray for us!