Saint Dominic, born into the heat of midsummer on the high plains of Spain, was made for this season. Instead of frustrating him, the heat drove him on. Preaching is a business that needs someone hot-blooded. The Spirit enkindles, but the preacher must tend the flame in the hearts God so desires. Zeal for souls is what the friar can give of himself, in the way Dominic exemplified.

In early August, the trees still sway in the wind. Flowers still bloom. The season is ripe. And yet, early August can get hot. Really hot. There’s a saying that you can’t give what you don’t have. The heat certainly affects one’s outlook, one’s demeanor, one’s entire mood. In short, it leaves one frazzled, frustrated—empty, with nothing to give. It takes someone with real character to keep a cool head.

For the friar preacher (at least in the Eastern United States), the heat of early August can leave him feeling drained. You can’t give what you don’t have. What does he have to give when he’s sweated through his habit, distracted from study, exhausted? He must find a way to give of himself, to heed the Lord’s command, “Give them some food yourselves” (Luke 9:13). And who will show him how? He must look to his father, who himself sweated and faced exhaustion in the heat of southern France.

Saint Dominic, born into the heat of midsummer on the high plains of Spain, was made for this season. Instead of frustrating him, the heat drove him on. He would walk with joy from town to town on the open country lane, barefoot and singing, and no doubt sweating. He would stay up through the stifling night, if necessary, to convince a single soul of the truth of Jesus Christ. His meals were meager, sleep infrequent, and health tentative. But the Gospel needed preaching, and Providence had selected him as preacher par excellence. Dominic did not fear to be bold in his zeal for souls. In the summer heat of 1217, he sent his friars out to the four corners of Europe, eager to spread the seed, lest the grain rot. In some towns, they hailed Dominic; in others, they despised him. There was no stopping the warm and charismatic Spaniard, for if your soul was on the line, he would have you to realize it. He could well adopt—and adapt—the words of the Lord to reflect his sense of urgency that the Truth be known: “Woe to you, Carcassonne! Woe to you, Béziers! For if the miracles that were performed in you had been performed in Toulouse and Servian, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes” (Matt 11:21).

When death came for Dominic, it came with the August heat. The suffocating air of a Bologna summer likely had Dominic thinking of cooler climates, perhaps those great northern reaches to which he always longed to bring the Gospel. When his first brothers were called upon to testify to his missionary vigor years later, how easily they must have made the words of prophecy their own: “His disciples recalled the words of scripture, ‘Zeal for your house will consume me’” (John 2:17; Ps 69:10). Like a brushfire, the Gospel consumed Dominic and set him ablaze, creating of his person a “lamp shining in a dark place” (2 Pet 1:19).

Dominic was able to spend himself in the heat of high summer—to keep a cool head—only because he knew the cold of the stone church floor each night. His constant and urgent prayer—What will become of sinners?—was spoken to God in the wee hours. “I am weary with crying out; my throat is parched. My eyes fail, from looking for my God” (Ps 69:4). That St. Dominic spoke only with or about God should incite all devotees of his, and especially his sons, to imitate his example. Preaching is a business that needs someone hot-blooded. The Spirit enkindles, but the preacher must tend the flame in the hearts God so desires. Zeal for souls is what the friar can give of himself, in the way Dominic exemplified.

This time of year brings a flurry of action for our province. First professions of our novices. New men arriving at the novitiate. New assignments. Dominicans here and across the world are given the chance to reflect on younger, hopeful days. A man’s own arrival at the novitiate—his own start to religious life. The preacher of Languedoc looms large in his memory as he did back then. “My father handled the heat and thrived in it. I can do the same.” Today, on this feast of our Holy Father, in this high summer heat, fix your eyes on Christ and pray Saint Dominic to be your father, too.

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Republished with gracious permission from Dominicana (August 2025). 

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Image: Andrea di Bonaiuto, The Way of Salvation fresco from the Spanish Chapel of Santa Maria Novella (detail)