Padre Pio on denying absolution.

 

From the memoirs of Padre Pellegrino, who lived with the saint from 1950 and was present at his death in 1968.

One afternoon, I took the opportunity of objecting once again at the ease with which Padre Pio postponed or denied absolution. I said, “Padre, with the help of Brother Costantino and many other devout souls, you work hard to bring back wayward children to the bosom of the Church, but at the same time, you leave them without absolution for months. Doesn't this mean that you leave them still outside the Church?” He replied, It is not enough to enter; one must enter in the correct manner. For you it is enough to see a mass entry, but I want to see them well prepared. The months spent in preparation for entry into the Church are months well spent. To enter unprepared is the same as not entering.” Padre Pio's reply didn't surprise me; it simply confirmed, once gain, his holy severity.

Once a little girl of nine or ten left Padre Pio's confessional in tears. As she passed by, she told me that she had not been given absolution for having missed Mass on Sundays. I was speechless. The child's mother was beginning to inveigh against the excessive rigor of Padre Pio's methods. The child interrupted her mother, saying, “No, mother. Padre Pio was right. I will never again miss Sunday Mass!” On hearing the child's words I left aside my fury and I became enthusiastic to the point that I could have run to kiss that terrible confessor on the forehead. However, I was still a little concerned. The doubt that the system was a little Machiavellian persisted.

No priest who is conscious of his duty can give absolution to penitents who are openly insincere. It would be foolish of him to believe that, due to the possession of a license as a confessor, he can reconcile the spirit of good with that of evil. What are over-indulgent priests doing in the confessional? They are worse than ill-disposed penitents, to say the least. Padre Pio was in complete agreement with the severest Catholic moralists concerning undeserving, relapsed or in one way or another unprepared penitents. Disconsolately, he said, “How can you give absolution to these penitents?” He prayed a lot for their conversion and, whenever he could, he harshly criticized them, but he never, ever, pretended to place the sign of absolution on their foreheads. 

However, he was one of the few priests who postponed giving absolution even to those penitents, who, because of their sincerity and repentance and the earnestness of their purpose, were, as he himself knew, sufficiently prepared. On some occasions it appeared to me that he abused the power he had received from the Church by putting off giving absolution to well-prepared penitents; penitents who were often a lot better prepared than others. And, at the same time, those who had been thrown out by him were received and absolved by other learned and severe priests. However, Padre Pio never criticized those “reserve priests.” On the contrary, he sometimes said to those whom he had left without absolution: “Now go and confess to another priest.” It seemed that he wanted, in that manner, to emphasize the gaping difference which existed between his own behavior and that of other priests. He was convinced he had not harmed any of these penitents.

I once said to him: “In the case of death, these people whom you refused absolution run the risk of damnation.” He replied: “Who told you these souls were not in the grace of God?” I objected: “If they are in the grace of God why can't they receive Holy Communion? And he: “Because they must do a particular penance.” The Padre believed that those penitents who are well-prepared and who had not been absolved, were not in God's disfavor as a result of the fact that they hadn't been given absolution, and even though they were at the door of the Church, they were already part of the ecclesiastical circle. This period of waiting at the door of the Church was a rather “refined” penance, and precisely for this reason, it was probably reserved for those souls who were capable of understanding its importance and efficacy.

Some people from Tuscany, on returning from San Giovanni Rotondo and passing through Rome, were received in a general audience by Pope Pius XII. “Your Holiness, we have come from San Giovanni Rotondo,” they shouted to the Pope. His holiness approached them and asked how Padre Pio was. “Very well your Holiness, they replied, and then added, “We went to confession to him but none of us received absolution.” The pope showed some interest: “I have been told that this holy man sometimes denies absolution. But tell me this, do those who don't receive absolution return afterwards?” “Almost all,” came the reply of the people of Tuscany. So the Holy Father concluded: “Well then, when you return, tell him, in my name, to continue in this manner.”

A friend of mine who had helped with some words of advice and comfort, told me in confidence about the last phase of his own conversion, which had come about some months previously thanks to Padre Pio. He told me that, after having suffered the bitterness of being thrown out of Padre Pio's confessional many times, one bright day he was finally absolved and was so happy that immediately after the absolution, he asked the confessor to kiss him. And Padre Pio embraced him. But shortly after the confession, the Padre was passing through the sacristy on his way into the friary and seeing my friend near the door wanting to kiss his hand, he said to him severely, “I don't want to see certain faces twice in the same day,” and he closed the door in his face, leaving him extremely upset.

In tears, my friend went for a walk in the square in front of the church. And there, even though he didn't know him, Dr. Sanguinetti approached him and on discovering the reason for his tears, proposed that he go to Padre Pio's cell to ask for an explanation. The poor unfortunate was a little doubtful, but he accepted.

Then, in cell no. 5, Padre Pio, as if to excuse himself, said to him: “I treated you in that manner as a penance for myself. I was enjoying your return to the Church too much, as if I had been responsible.” Padre Pio's reply, which convinced my friend, did not please me. One afternoon, in the presence of Padre Pio and Dr. Sanguinetti, my friend jokingly hinted at the day of his first absolution. I took advantage of this and immediately asked Padre Pio, “With the excuse of mortifying your self-love, you made this poor unfortunate cry. Why?” And then, having read in my eyes my doubts on the legitimacy of his behavior, Padre Pio finished the explanation. “That day he also had to understand that he was more of a son of the Church than a son of mine. He was not to run after me, whilst in the church there is Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.”

These slightly-edited excerpts are from Padre Pio's Jack of All Trades, by Padre Pellegrino Funicelli, pp. 107-114, Our Lady of Grace Capuchin Friary, 1991. 

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St. Alphonsus on the Victories of the Martyrs

From the patience which the martyrs evinced during their tortures, we should learn to suffer with holy resignation the crosses and afflictions of this life; poverty, sickness, persecution, contumely, injustice, and all other evils, are but trifling when compared with their sufferings. We also in our tribulations . . . calling to mind the more grievous sufferings of the martyrs, should blush to complain.

If the reading of the Lives of the Saints is a great means to preserve piety, as is said by St. Philip Neri and as is taught by all the masters of spiritual life, we shall find it yet more useful to read about the victories that the holy martyrs gained by sacrificing their lives amid torments. There is no doubt that the martyrs are indebted for their crown to the power of the grace which they received from Jesus Christ; for he it is that gave them the strength to despise all the promises and all the threats of tyrants, and to endure all the torments till they had made an entire sacrifice of their lives. The martyrs, therefore, acquired great merits, because the virtues of which they gave proofs in their combats were great and heroic.

The martyrs received great courage in their sufferings from the desire of quickly arriving at the fruition of the promises made by Jesus Christ to his followers: Blessed are ye when they shall revile you and persecute you. . . . Be glad and rejoice, for your reward is very great in heaven [Matt. 5:11]. Every one therefore that shall confess me before men I will also confess him before my Father who is in heaven [Matt. 10:32].

Fyodor Bronnikov, Martyr on a Circus Ring

But what above all filled the martyrs with courage and ardor and made them wish to die was their great love for their divine Master, whom St. Augustine calls the King of Martyrs, who wished to die on the Cross in pain and in desolation for the love of us, as St. Paul says: He loveth us, and hath delivered himself for us [Eph. 5:2]. Actuated by this love, they went with joy to suffer and to die for Jesus Christ; so that, not content to endure the pains that were inflicted upon them, they besought, they provoked the executioners and the tyrants, to obtain from them an increase of torture, in order that they might show themselves more grateful to God who died for love of them. Hence it came to pass, according to St. Justin, that in the course of three centuries the whole earth was filled with Christians and martyrs.

The number of Christians, far from having been diminished by the slaughter of the saints, became so wonderfully increased, that Tertullian said: “Our number grows in the same measure that you decimate us; the blood of the Christians is a sort of seed.” He used the word seed because the blood of the martyrs was that which multiplied the faithful. Tertullian, indeed, boasted of this, and upbraided the tyrants with their impotency; since, notwithstanding all their endeavors to exterminate the followers of the Gospel, the streets, the forum, and even the senate, were filled with Christians.

Thus we see that, after the ten persecutions of the Roman emperors, which lasted for more than two hundred years, beginning from the first under Nero, the greater part of the human race, having abandoned the worship of false deities, had embraced the doctrines of Christianity. Finally, after so many struggles, it pleased the Almighty Disposer of events to grant peace to his Church under Constantine. Many authors calculate the number of those who had laid down their lives for the faith to have been nearly eleven million!

From an earnest consideration of the illustrious examples of virtue which the saints have given us during their martyrdom, oh, how much is to be learned! By beholding, in devout meditation, the utter contempt in which they held the world and all the allurements of its pompous vanities, we are taught to despise the fleeting and unsubstantial pleasures which it offers to its deluded votaries.

From the example of the martyrs we learn also to place our confidence only in God, and to become daily more enamored of the excellence of our faith: since in their constancy we cannot help admiring the wonderful power of God which enabled them to encounter torments and death with heroic fortitude and ecstatic joy. For without the interposition of the most powerful assistance from heaven, how could the delicate constitution of nervous persons, the tottering decrepitude of age, the timorous disposition of tender virgins, the recklessness of adolescent manhood, or the inconsideration of boyhood years, be equal to tortures, the bare recital of which fills us with horror? Cauldrons of boiling oil and liquid pitch, red-hot coats of mail, hooks to pull out the eyes and teeth, iron combs to tear off the flesh; fires quickly to consume, or tediously to torture; scourging until bones and bowels appeared; beheading, quartering, lacerating, impaling—these were only some of the ingredients of the martyr’s cup.

Christians suffer growing persecution in Nigeria from Islamist groups such as Boko Haram.  Reuters

St. Barlaam, a poor laborer of a village in Antioch, having evinced extraordinary fortitude during his sufferings, and having been scourged until the executioners had exhausted their strength, was obliged by the tyrant to hold his hand over the flame that burned before the shrine of an idol. At the same time burning coals and incense were placed upon his hand, in the hope that he might be obliged by the pain to let them fall upon the altar, and thus afford them the opportunity of asserting that he had sacrificed to the idols; but the constancy of the saint was greater than their malice—he allowed his flesh to be burned to the bone, and expired in the effort.

From the patience which the martyrs evinced during their tortures, we should learn to suffer with holy resignation the crosses and afflictions of this life; poverty, sickness, persecution, contumely, injustice, and all other evils, are but trifling when compared with their sufferings. The reflection that it was the will of God that they should suffer for his love, was their only solace. We also in our tribulations should remember the necessity of resignation to the divine will; and, calling to mind the more grievous sufferings of the martyrs, should blush to complain. St. Vincent de Paul used to say: “Conformity to the divine will is a sovereign remedy for all evils.” It may be useful here to remark, with St. Augustine, that it is not the torture but the cause which maketh the martyr.

But the most important lesson which we learn from the martyrs is the necessity of the love of God: He who loveth not, abideth in death [1 Jn. 3:14]. We cannot manifest our love of God so well by a multitude of actions performed for his glory, as by a willingness to suffer for his sake. St. Gordianus replied to the tyrant, who threatened to put him to death if he did not deny the name of Jesus: “You threaten death! but my greatest regret is, that I can die but once for Jesus Christ.” This ardent love of God is certainly the greatest spiritual advantage to be derived from the perusal of the acts of the martyrs; the recollection of their conduct will make us ashamed to lament under the tribulations which divine Providence sends us, and will strengthen us to receive them with resignation.

The following is the way in which we acquire the glory of martyrdom: It is by accepting death to please God and to conform to his will; for, as we have remarked above with St. Augustine, not the pain, but the cause of death, or the end for which one submits to it, is that which makes martyrs. It follows that he who dies, in courageously accepting death and all the pains that accompany it, to accomplish the divine will, though he does not receive death by the hands of the executioner, dies, however, with the merit of martyrdom, or at least with a very similar merit. It also follows that as often as any one offers himself to undergo martyrdom for the love of God, so often he gains the merit of martyrdom. Mark the example of St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi, who when she inclined the head at the Glory be to the Father, imagined that at the same moment she was receiving the stroke of the executioner. Hence we shall see in heaven a great number of saints doubly crowned with the merit of martyrdom without having been martyred.

The martyrdom of St. Alban by Matthew Paris.

A prayer to the Holy Martyrs to obtain their protection: O ye blessed Princes of the heavenly kingdom! ye who sacrificed to the Almighty God the honors, the riches, and possessions of this life, and have received in return the unfading glory and never-ending joys of heaven! ye who are secure in the everlasting possession of the brilliant crown of glory which your sufferings have obtained!—look with compassionate regards upon our wretched state in this valley of tears, where we groan in the uncertainty of what may be our eternal destiny. And from that divine Savior, for whom you suffered so many torments, and who now repays you with so unspeakable glory, obtain for us that we may love him with all our heart, and receive in return the grace of perfect resignation under the trials of this life, fortitude under the temptations of the enemy, and perseverance to the end. May your powerful intercession obtain for us that we may one day in your blessed company sing the praises of the Eternal, and, even as you now do, face to face, enjoy the beatitude of his vision!

Excerpts from the Introduction to Victories of the Martyrs, by St. Alphonsus Liguori, Doctor of the Church and Founder of the Redemptorist Order.

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God wants saints, not “brutes!”

Excerpts from the essay The Science of the Saints, by St. Alphonsus.

“Hence it is that if a brute were ever to act according to reason, we should say that such a brute acted like a man; so we say that a man who acts upon sensual appetites and contrary to reason acts like a brute.”

There are two kinds of sciences upon earth – one heavenly, the other worldly. The heavenly is that which leads us to please God, and makes us great in heaven. The worldly is that which moves us to please ourselves, and to become great in the world. But this worldly science is folly and madness in the sight of God. The wisdom of the world is foolishness with God, [1 Cor. 3:19]. It is folly, for it makes fools of those who cultivate it; it makes them fools, and like the brutes, for it teaches them to satisfy their carnal appetites like the beasts.

St. John Chrysostom wrote, “We call him a man who preserves complete the image of a man; and what is the image of a man? - to be rational.” Hence it is that if a brute were ever to act according to reason, we should say that such a brute acted like a man; so we say that a man who acts upon sensual appetites and contrary to reason acts like a brute.

Blessed is he who has received from God the science of the saints. The science of the saints is to know the love of God. How many in the world are well versed in literature, in mathematics, in foreign and ancient languages! But what will this profit them if they know not the love of God? Blessed is he, said St. Augustine, who knows God, even if he knows nothing else. He that knows God and loves him, though he be ignorant of what others know, is more learned than the learned who know not how to love God. Let us not, then, envy those who know many things; let us only envy those who know how to love Jesus Christ; and let us imitate St. Paul, who said that he desired to know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified.

But the evil is that the knowledge of the world puffs us up, and makes us proud and prone to despise others – a pernicious fault, for, as St. James says, God resists the proud, and gives grace to the humble, [Ja. 4:6.] Oh, that they would be wise and understand, and know the latter end, [Deut. 32:29]. Oh, if men would act by reason and the divine law, and thus would learn to provide, not so much for temporal existence, which speedily ends, as for eternity, they would assuredly not occupy themselves in the attainment of any knowledge, except such as aids them in obtaining eternal happiness and avoiding eternal pains.

St. John Chrysostom advises us to walk among the tombs of the dead, in order to learn the knowledge of salvation. Oh, what a school of truth are the sepulchers for learning the vanity of the world! “Let us go to the tombs; there,” said the saint, “there I see nothing but corruption, bones and worms.” From all these skeletons, I cannot tell which belonged to the ignorant and which to the learned; I only see that with death all the glories of the world were finished for them. What remained to a Cicero, a Demosthenes, an Ulpian? They have slept their sleep, and have found nothing in their hands, [Ps. 75;6].

“Let the unlearned arise and seize upon heaven!” cried out St. Augustine. How learned were St. Francis of Assisi, St. Paschal, St. John of God? - ignorant in worldly knowledge, but well-skilled in that which is divine. Thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them to babes, [Matt. 11:25]. By the wise, we are here to understand the worldly-wise, who labor for the possessions and glories of the world, and think little of eternal joys. And by babes, we are to understand simple souls (like those of children), who know little of worldly wisdom, and devote all their care to pleasing God.

Happy are we if we attain to the knowledge of the love which Jesus crucified had for us, and from this book of love attain to the love of him. O thou, who art my true and perfect lover, where shall I find one who has so loved me as Thou hast? I perceive that Thou callest me to Thy holy love. I give myself wholly to Thee; accept me; give me help to be faithful to Thee; I desire to be no longer my own, but all, all Thine. O mother of God! Do thou also help me with thy prayers.

Edited excerpts from “The Science of the Saints” in The Way of Salvation and of Perfection, by St. Alphonsus de Liguori, pp. 187-190.

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Penance and Reparation Appease the Almighty

When St. Alphonsus brought about an end to a severe drought by exhorting the people to do penance and make reparation to God for their sins, and even prophesied the exact day the rains would return; and how he tamed a Vesuvius eruption.

From the Life of St. Alphonsus by Fr. Austin Berthe.

For almost six months the town of Nocera had been in great distress, for during all that time the sky had been as bronze as in the days of Elias, and not a drop of rain had fallen on the parched earth. Were the drought to continue a little longer it meant the ruin of the crops with consequent famine for many. The people wept at the thought of the future, and Alphonsus wept over the sins of the people, which are the cause of such scourges.

Weak though he was [he was 83 and infirm], he organized one Sunday, the fifteenth of May, a penitential procession to appease the anger of God. Robed in purple, sprinkled with ashes, and with a cord around his neck, he set out with his religious for the parish church, preceded by the cross. The distance being considerable he was obliged to make part of the journey in a carriage, but no entreaties could prevent him from doing the second half, supported by two attendants, on foot.

The whole town was present at the touching ceremony, and the church, with the square in front of it, was thronged. The holy old man determined to profit by the occasion to exhort sinners to repentance. The pulpit was moved down to the door of the church, so that those outside might be able to hear his words, and as he was unable to ascend it by himself, he was borne into it on the shoulders of a number of the people. For an hour he raised his voice against mortal sin, which, he said, not only offends God but often draws down the most terrible chastisements. “God has reason to chastise us,” he exclaimed, “for we have deserved it; I have deserved it more than all; but spare the innocent, O my God, have pity on these poor little ones.” Men and women wept and asked forgiveness for their sins, and soon all the confessionals were thronged.

But heaven seemed deaf to the appeals of the afflicted people. Eight days passed, and no change took place in the sky, while Alphonsus continued to pray and to ask for the prayers of others also. On the Monday after Pentecost, May 24, he was returning from his drive when just as he reached the monastery he suddenly ordered the coachman to turn back and take him to the church of Our Lady of Grace. The people, seeing him leave the carriage, gathered in the church to pray with him. The saint asked to have the statue of Mary unveiled, and exhorted those present to appeal confidently to her all-powerful protection. Then he turned to them, and said with confidence, “Continue to recommend yourselves to the Madonna, go to confession and communion this week – on Sunday you will have rain.

All through the week the sky maintained its pitiless blue. Sunday brought no change, and people began to whisper that this time the saint was no prophet, when suddenly, towards evening, a complete change took place. The heavens became covered with clouds, and rain fell in such abundance that all the fields were flooded. As for the servant of God, on seeing the rain fall, he was covered with confusion and said to those around him, “People will take the promise I made for a prophecy; but the words only escaped me – I am anything but a prophet.”

Picture: Credit: De Agostini – Getty

Three months later, on August 10, 1779, the community of Pagani witnessed another wonderful phenomenon, which seems more than a coincidence. For some time past Vesuvius, which dominates all that area, had been pouring fiery lava over the district of Ottaiano. The entire neighborhood was in consternation. One evening especially the flames rose to such a height as to excite apprehensions of some terrible catastrophe. The fathers contemplated the splendid but fearful spectacle from the windows of one of the corridors. “Filled with terror,” related Fr. Dominic Corsano, “I ran to the cell of the servant of God, and begged him to come out and see what was going on. He came, drew near the window and then started back in fear, repeating three times: 'Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!' Then, in my presence, he made a great sign of the Cross in the direction of the mountain, and that very moment the immense whirlwind of fire and flames disappeared into the crater.”

Brother Leonard Cicchetti makes a similar deposition: “Brother Francis Romito, Alexis Pollio, and I,” he says, “led the holy old man to one of the windows so that he might see the flame which rose to a prodigious height from Vesuvius. He made the sign of the Cross and the flame instantly disappeared. All we saw afterwards was the smoke.”

Thus did God exalt His servant before King and people alike, and even before his own spiritual children. But alas! These months of favor were to be followed by the most terrible trials. It was the calm before the storm, the oasis wherein Divine Providence permits the traveler to enjoy a moment of repose before he plunges into the sands of the desert – or rather it was as the Palm Sunday of his Master which preceded the Passion. When we think of the events which are to follow, we would like to close the story of our saint here, did we not know that the life of Our Divine Redeemer want on the the Crucifixion. Alphonsus, an imitator of Jesus in His hidden and active life, was destined to go through a dolorous passion and climb the hill of Calvary like his Lord; thus by a mystical crucifixion to die to the last remnants of human attachment and self-love, and make perfect forever his union with Jesus in heaven.

Life of St. Alphonsus de Liguori, Bishop and Doctor of the Church, by Fr. Austin Berthe, Volume Two, pp. 471-473.

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St. Alphonsus – Bi-location, Levitation, and Prophecy

During a Redemptorist mission to Amalfi in 1756, St. Alphonsus felt that penance would have more effect than eloquence on the people of a town hardened by self-indulgence. He and his companions therefore began to do penance from the very day of their arrival. They practiced great mortification so that they might preach by example rather than by words. An eye-witness reported that one day a charitable person sent them a dish of excellent macaroni – that dish so dear to the Neapolitan. They could not send back the present without offending the donor, yet they considered it too much of a luxury to be eaten by them. So it was passed around morning and evening without anyone touching it. On the fourth day when the food had become sour and displeasing to the taste, Alphonsus presented the dish once more with the remark: “We can eat it now without fear.” On another occasion some fine fish sent by a pious lady met with the same fate.

One of the canons of the cathedral, Canon Casanova, related that Alphonsus had so covered his body with hair-shirts as to be scarcely able to walk. “I have seen him with my own eyes,” he said, “scourging his shoulders with a thick cord in the pulpit before all the people.” One may well imagine the impression which must have been made by these true followers of Jesus Christ on that effeminate populace. “To see Alphonsus at the altar in the morning,” one person said, “was enough to move one to tears. What one saw was not a man, but an angel absorbed in contemplation of God.”

The influence exerted by the power of his virtues was enhanced by the presence of supernatural gifts, prophecies and miracles. At the process of his canonization, it was related that during the mission to Amalfi the saint made three predictions, and all were fulfilled. He told a certain Maria Anastasio, who was seriously ill, that she must be resigned, for God did not mean her to recover from her sickness, that God would before long also call her to son to Himself, and that her daughter would become a religious – all of which came to pass. During the same mission Alphonsus told a lady who went to confession to him, “You will have a son who will be a priest and a canon.” This son became the canon of the metropolitan church. One witness testified, “I had a brother younger than myself by three years who had frequent epileptic fits. My mother carried him to the servant of God, who made the sign of the cross on his forehead saying: “Have no fear, your son will get better; he will become a priest and will win many souls to God.” The witness continued, “From that day forth my brother never had an attack of his malady; he is at present dean of the church of San Pancras in the diocese of Amalfi.”

Canon Casanova recounted another strange fact. “A fellow townsman of mine named Matthew went to confession to the servant of God in the place where Alphonsus was staying. After making his confession he set out for the church where the evening sermon was about to begin, taking leave of the saintly confessor, who was surrounded by a number of penitents. On reaching the church he beheld a man in the pulpit addressing the people. It was Alphonsus. He was utterly dumbfounded at the sight, for the servant of God could not have reached the church by any other road or through any door but those which he himself has passed. He began to cry out at the top of his voice: “The father is hearing confessions in his house and preaching in the church at the same time!” The incident created a great commotion among the whole congregation. This is attested by two other witnesses, the parish priest of St. Stephens, and Canon di Luca.”

Canon Casanova continued: “On the day set apart for the sermon on the Blessed Virgin, Alphonsus was trying to excite his hearers to recommend themselves to her in all their wants, spiritual and temporal, when suddenly, as if inspired, he exclaimed: 'You have not sufficient confidence in your Mother. You do not know how to pray to her with all your heart; but I am going to pray for you.' Then while he was putting his whole soul into ardent supplications a ray of light from the picture of Mary on the right of the pulpit darted upon the preacher's face. We beheld him then with his countenance aflame, his eyes fixed in ecstasy, and his body raised almost two feet above where he stood, as if about to wing his flight for the skies! The rapture lasted more than five minutes, during which an indescribable emotion seized on the congregation, whose sobs were mingled with the exclamation, 'miracle!' 'miracle!' from all parts of the church”

He worked moral miracles that were almost equally surprising. Every day the tambourine and the guitar used to be heard in the streets, inviting the inhabitants of Amalfi to immoral dances. Alphonsus inveighed against these disorders with such effect that the young men and women made a great pile of their musical instruments in front of the cathedral, and set fire to it before all the people. The saint's voice was also raised against the conduct of the women, among whom ladies of the better class were to be found, who were not ashamed to appear in church with uncovered head and improperly low dresses. His words had their effect, and henceforth reformation in this respect was complete.

On the last day of the mission to Amalfi, St. Alphonsus warned them against their unbridled love of games and amusement, and addressed them with a prophetic warning. “To save you we have spared neither labor nor pain. Well, tomorrow a spectacle will come to the town to destroy the fruits of this mission. Take care not to assist at it; if you do I predict for you that you will be chastised by an earthquake. The next afternoon, a bull was set loose in the square for the amusement of the people. They had always been passionate lovers of bull-baiting, and crowds flocked from all sides for the sport. But the game had scarcely begun when the violent shock of an earthquake struck panic into the populace. In their terror they fled to the cathedral. Then another shock, more powerful than the first, overturned the candlesticks on the altar. All fell on their knees, asking pardon for their sins, and priests were disbursed among the multitude to give absolution to all around them. The earthquake ended without further harm, but the fear of the chastisements of God was the beginning of wisdom for the inhabitants of Amalfi.

Source: Edited excerpts from Life of Alphonsus de Liguori, Volume One, by Austin Berthe, pp. 520-523.

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For Animal Lovers: St. Alphonsus and God's Creatures.

In a passage on the love of God, the saint writes: “I see almost all men applying themselves to the love—some of their parents, some of their friends, some of wealth, honors, or pleasures, and some even of dumb animals; but how many are they that love Thee, O infinite loveliness?” [Passion and Death of Jesus Christ, p. 156.]

I was taken aback by his phrase “even of dumb animals.” Yes, we should love God first and foremost, but by his wording it seemed to me that St. Alphonsus was certainly no St. Francis, and that he probably never had a pet. Well, I was wrong on both counts.

The following is from Life of St. Alphonsus de Liguori, Vol 1, by Austin Berthe, pp. 671-673.

“This sympathetic charity, grafted on his natural kindness, was extended to all God's creatures, even the animals. Alphonsus could not see them suffer without suffering himself. On Jan. 16, 1761, says an eye-witness, having found a little bird dying of cold he took it in his hands, tried to warm it, and then carried it to the kitchen, which he hardly ever entered, to see if he could revive it. But it was too late; a few hours later a brother showed him the little creature in a dying state. “No, no,” he said, turning away his face and going away quite sad, “I do not wish to see it!” On another occasion one of the fathers picked up a bird which had been wounded by a gun and brought it to our saint. Tears came into his eyes at the sight of the poor little creature mangled and bleeding. He told Brother Matthew to feed it and staunch its wounds with great care, and when after several days the wounded bird was healed, and able to use its wings, he set it at liberty.

“He delighted to gather the crumbs left on the table and give them after his meal to the chickens, which never failed to run towards him when they caught sight of him, however far off they might be. “The whole gallinaceous tribe used to flee at our approach,” says one father naively, “but our father had only to appear when all of them, big and little, came running towards him at full speed.”

“He was especially attached to those of God's creatures which symbolize innocence and purity, such as little birds and lambs. Father Corsano one day took to his cell a snow-white new-born lamb. Tears filled the saint's eyes, seeing as he did in the innocent creature the Lamb of God immolated for the salvation of the world. He gazed at it for some time, and then after caressing it gently and pressing it to his heart, gave it back to the fathers with the words: “I do not wish him to be killed.”

“Domestic animals found in him a friend and defender. One brother who had thrown a cat which had annoyed him out of the window was deprived of his fruit for eight days in punishment of his cruel action. During the famine of 1764, of which we will have to speak shortly, Alphonsus, then a bishop, while at table saw a poor, famished dog enter the room and painfully drag itself towards him. “Give him something to eat,” he said compassionately to the servant, “and look after him well while he lives.” The dog regained his strength, and the saint kept him out of pity. One day the servant beat the poor animal for some larceny of which he had been guilty in the kitchen. The dog's pitiful howling attracted the attention of Alphonsus. He came down-stairs and found the poor beast covered with blood. Not content with a stern rebuke to the servant the saint told him that if he wished to remain in his service he must never dare to mistreat an animal again.

“Two little incidents may be related which remind us of the Apostle St. John and of St. Francis of Assisi. The students made a present of two turtle doves to their good father, knowing that he would be pleased by the gift. The doves soon came to know him and followed him about wherever he went. When he was at his meals they would come towards him, pass to and fro before him and eat from his hand. When he had given them enough he used to say: “Now go off to your cage,” and away they went at once.

“Another day Alphonsus had given a bird its liberty. Nothing afforded him greater pleasure than to see the little captives spread their wings and fly away. This time the released prisoner instead of flying off into the distance perched on a bow almost within reach of its benefactor, and trilled forth its most joyous lays for quite a long time. Neither the nearness nor the laughter of its auditors intimidated it in the least; it sang its canticle of thanksgiving a hundred times over before it spread its wings and flew away. The servants of God, stripped of selfishness and self-love, seem in regaining innocence to regain the dominion which the first Adam before his fall exercised over all creatures, and the lives of the saints often make one think of the earthly paradise.

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Let us have a great desire to become saints!

Tell me, do you desire to become a saint? If you do not, it is sure that you will never become one.

An exhortation by St. Alphonsus:
 

No saint has ever attained to sanctity without a great desire. As wings are necessary to birds in order to fly, holy desires are necessary to the soul in order to advance in the road of perfection. To become a saint, we must detach ourselves from creatures, conquer our passions, overcome ourselves, and love crosses. But to do all this, much strength is required, and we must suffer much. But what is the effect of holy desire? St. Laurence Justinian answers us: “It supplies strength, and makes the pain easier to be borne.” Hence the same saint adds, that he has already vanquished who has a great desire of vanquishing. “A great part of the victory is the desire of vanquishing.” He who wishes to reach the top of a high mountain will never reach it if he has not a great desire to do so. This will give him courage and strength to undergo the fatigue of ascending, otherwise he will stop at the foot, wearied and discouraged.

St. Bernard asserts that we acquire perfection in proportion to the desire for it which we preserve in our heart. St. Teresa said that God loves generous souls that have great desires; for which reason the saint exhorted all in this way, “Let our thoughts be high, . . . for thence will come our good. We must not have low and little desires, but have that confidence in God that, if we make the proper efforts, we shall by little and little attain to that perfection which, with his grace, the saints have reached.” In this way, the saints attained, in a short time, a great degree of perfection, and were able to do great things for God. Being made perfect in a short time, he fulfilled a long time. [Wis. 4:13.] Thus St. Aloysius Gonzaga attained in a few years (he lived not over twenty-three years) such a degree of sanctity that St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi, in an ecstasy seeing him in heaven, said it seemed to her, in a certain way, that there was no saint in heaven who enjoyed a greater glory than Aloysius. She understood at the same time that he had arrived at so high a degree by the great desire he had cherished of being able to love God as much as he deserved, and that, seeing this beyond his reach, the holy youth had suffered on earth a martyrdom of love.

St. Bernard, being in religion, in order to excite his fervor, used to say to himself, “Bernard, for what did you come here?” I say the same to you: What have you come to do in the house of God? To become a saint? And what are you doing? Why do you lose the time? Tell me, do you desire to become a saint? If you do not, it is sure that you will never become one. If, then, you have not this desire, ask Jesus Christ for it; ask Mary for it; and if you have it, take courage, says St. Bernard, for many do not become saints, because they do not take courage. And so I repeat, let us take courage, and great courage. What do we fear? What inspires this diffidence in us? That Lord, who has given us strength to leave the world, will also give us the grace to embrace the life of a saint. 

Everything comes to an end. Our life, be it a contented or a discontented one, will also come to an end, but eternity will never terminate. Only that little we have done for God will console us in death and throughout eternity. The fatigue will be short, eternal shall be the crown, which is already, so to speak, before our eyes. How satisfied are the saints now with all they have suffered for God! If a sorrow could enter paradise, the Blessed would be sorry only for this, that they have neglected to do for God what they might have done more, but which now they are unable to do. Take courage, then, and be prompt, for there is no time to lose; what can be done to-day we may not be able to do tomorrow. St. Bernardine of Sienna said that one moment of time is of as great a value as God himself, for at every moment we may gain God, his divine grace, and higher degrees of merits.

PRAYER:   Behold, O my God! here I am. My heart is ready, O my God! my heart is ready. [Ps. 56:8.] See, I am prepared to do all that Thou shalt require from me. 0 Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do? [Acts 9:6.] Tell me, O Lord, what Thou desirest of me. I will obey Thee in all. I am sorry for having lost so much time in which I might have pleased Thee, and yet have not done so. I thank Thee that still Thou givest me time to do it. Oh, no, I will not lose any more time. I will and desire to become a saint, not to obtain from Thee a greater glory and more delights. I will become a saint, that I may love Thee more, and to please Thee in this life and in the next. Make me, O Lord! to love and please Thee as much as Thou desirest. Behold, This is all I ask from Thee, O my God! I will love Thee, I will love Thee; and, in order to love Thee, I offer myself to undergo every fatigue, and to suffer every pain. O my Lord! increase in me always this desire, and give me the grace to execute it. Of myself I can do nothing, but assisted by Thee I can do all. Eternal Father, for the love of Jesus Christ, graciously hear me. My Jesus, though the merits of Thy Passion, come to my succor. O Mary, my hope! for the love of Jesus Christ, protect me.

From The Great Means of Salvation and Perfection. “How Necessary it is, in order to become a saint, to have a great desire for such a thing.” Pp. 441-444.

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God will turn the chastisement, if we turn from our sins.

St. Alphonsus de Liguori: Nine Discourses for Times of Calamities. Following are excerpts from the Eighth Discourse: “Prayers appease God, and avert from us the chastisement we deserve, provided we purpose to amend.”

  

Would that our prominent pro-abortion “Catholic” politicians, such as Cuomo, Pelosi and Biden, heed these words of St. Alphonsus! The darkness is upon us, and we see no real end to it, because there is no purpose of amendment, no turning from our nation's sins. One of the prayers taught by the Angel of Fatima is: O my Jesus, it is for love of Thee, for the conversion of sinners, and reparation for the sins committed against the Immaculate Heart of Mary.  Every abortion, every act of fornication, every act of sodomy is a sin against the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

St. Alphonsus: “In order to be delivered from the present scourge, and still more from the eternal scourge, we must pray and hope. But it is not sufficient to pray and to hope: we must pray and hope as we ought. No one hath hoped in the Lord, and hath been confounded. [Ecclus. 2:11.] There never has been and never will be found any one to hope in the Lord and be lost, as the prophet assures us: He is the protector of all that trust in Him. But how comes it, then, that some persons ask graces and do not obtain them? St. James answers that it is because they ask ill. You ask, and receive not, because you ask amiss. [James 4:3.] You must not only ask and hope, but ask and hope as you ought.

God is appeased by prayers, and led to withdraw the chastisement which we deserve, provided we purpose to amend. How can God think of hearing that sinner who prays to him that he may be freed from his afflictions, whilst he is unwilling to abandon sin, which is the cause of his afflictions? Thus do many act; they beg of God to deliver them from their afflictions; they beg of the servants of God to avert by their prayers the threatened chastisements, but they do not seek to obtain the grace of abandoning their sins and changing their lives. And how can such persons hope to be freed from the chastisement when they will not remove its cause? It is not God, then, who makes us miserable; it is sin. Sin it is which obliges God to create chastisements: Famine, and affliction, and scourges, all things are created for the wicked. [Ecclus. 40: 9.]

But some will say, we make novenas, we fast, we give alms, we pray to God: why are we not heard? How, exclaims the Lord! how can I hear the prayers of those who beg to be freed from their afflictions, and not from their sins, because they do not wish to reform. What care I for their fasts, and their sacrifices, and their alms, when they will not change their lives.

Some say we have our patron or some other saint who will defend us; we have our Mother Mary to procure our deliverance. How can the saints think of assisting us if we persist in exasperating the Lord? St. John Chrysostom says, of what use was Jeremias to the Jews? The Jews had Jeremias to pray for them, but, notwithstanding all the prayers of that holy prophet, they received the chastisement, because they did not wish to give up their sins. Beyond doubt, says the holy Doctor, the prayers of the saints contribute much to obtain the divine mercy for us, but when?—when we do penance. They are useful, but only when we do ourselves violence to abandon sin, to fly occasions, and return to God’s favor.

The emperor Phocas, in order to defend himself from his enemies, raised walls and multiplied fortifications, but he heard a voice saying to him from heaven: “You build walls, but when the enemy is within, the city is easily taken.” We must then expel this enemy, which is sin, from our souls, otherwise God cannot exempt us from chastisement, because he is just, and cannot leave sin unpunished. Another time the citizens of Antioch prayed to Mary to avert from them a scourge which overhung them; and whilst they were praying, St. Bertoldus heard the divine Mother replying from heaven, “Abandon your sins, and I shall be propitious to you.”

St. Augustine says: “He who created you without your help, will not save you without your help.” What do you expect, sinful brother? That God will bring you to Paradise with all your sins upon you? Do you continue to draw down upon you the divine scourges, and yet hope to be delivered from them? Must God save you while you persist in damning yourself? If we purpose truly to turn to God, then let us pray to him and rejoice; even though the sins of the entire world were ours, we should be heard, as I said to you in the beginning. Every one who prays with a purpose of amendment, obtains mercy.”

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St. Gerard Majella, Companion of St. Alphonsus

St. Gerard was a lay-brother in the Redemptorist Order recently founded by St. Alphonsus. He is the patron saint of mothers, motherhood, expectant mothers, childbirth, children, pregnant women, unborn children, the pro-life movement, the falsely accused, good confessions, and lay brothers.

The following story of Gerard's exemplary life in the Order is from the classic 1700-page biography of St. Alphonsus by Austin Berthe. He died from tuberculosis on October 16, 1755 at 29 years of age.

On October 15, 1755, St. Alphonsus closed the second general chapter of the Redemptorist Order, which he had established in the Kingdom of Naples. On the day following, there died at Caposole the second canonized saint of the Order, the lay-brother Gerard Majella, as if to allow Alphonsus to offer up to God one of the fairest flowers of Paradise which the Rule of the Most Holy Redeemer had brought to perfection in the course of six years.

Gerard had entered the Congregation after the chapter of 1749. This short period had been enough to make of him a great saint. In becoming so he did but order his life at every moment as the constitutions prescribed. In the novitiate at Iliceto he lived as Jesus lived at Nazareth – only for obedience, work, and prayer. “I will have ever before my eyes,” he wrote, “my resolution to observe the Rule minutely and to grow in perfection.” And indeed he did grow in wisdom and grace before God and man. “O will of God,” he would say, “happy is he who knows and loves only Thee!” He used to be called the saint of obedience. In his longing to become a true imitator of his Master, according to the spirit of the Rule, he grew so enamored of Him who was the life of his soul that he could hardly depart from before the altar, and would sometimes go into ecstasy at the bare mention of the name of Jesus.

Saint Gerard Majella Catholic Church (Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia), interior, mosaic depiction.

That he might the better resemble his Crucified Lord, he lived like the poorest of the poor, strove to eat only what others left, slept on the bare floor, and disciplined himself severely. After two years of trial, he was admitted to profession. “Now,” he said, “I am going to live on earth as though I were alone with God.” Like St. Teresa he made the heroic vow of doing always what seemed to him to be most perfect, so that he might say with Jesus at every moment, “I do always the things that please Him.” [John 8:29.]

During the last years of his life God drew Gerard out of his solitude, humble lay-brother though he was. He had his Master's thirst for souls. “Why cannot I convert as many souls as there are stars in the heavens!” he would exclaim. With the gift of zeal he received all other gifts from God – knowledge of the mysteries of faith to such a degree that great theologians were astonished at it, the power of reading the human heart and conscience, and wonder-working powers to such an extent that his life seems a perpetual miracle.

After thus preparing the humble brother for the glorious work of an apostle, God inspired his superiors to send him for three years into the world. Wherever he passed, bishops, parish priests, and confessors, witnessing his virtue and power, employed him in the conversion of the most obstinate sinners. Gerard had but to appear, and hearts melted before him like wax in the sun. Sometimes a sinner would try to conceal his misdeeds, and Gerard, reading his conscience, would enumerate them one after another until the unhappy man would hasten to confession. To one man who had relapsed into a life of wickedness, though he pretended to be reformed, Gerard enumerated his most secret sins, and then pointing to an image of Jesus on the Cross, exclaimed, in burning accents: “Who but you has caused the blood to flow from those wounds?” The same instant blood did flow from the crucifix, and the unhappy sinner burst into tears.

Gerard went about through town and country, healing the sick, helping the poor, driving out devils, and converting sinners. Everywhere the people thronged round the footsteps of the humble brother. His superiors were once obliged to recall him from Naples after a stay there of three months, in order to remove him from the crowds that continually beset him. “A hundred evangelical workers,” said Fathers Cajone and Margotta, who had seen him at work, “would not have been able to win the sinners that Brother Gerard has brought to God.”

Like Jesus, too, Gerard, after working for three years to save poor sinners, had to pass through the Garden of Gethsemane. His ecstasies were followed by an agony of desolation. “God has fled from my soul,” he exclaimed, “I am crucified as far as a man can be, have pity on me!" Then after having plunged him in an abyss of suffering, God sent him the most terrible affliction a saint can endure. A wicked woman accused him of a horrible crime, and so far imposed upon a good priest as to lead him to write a letter to the holy founder representing Gerard as a hypocrite and seducer. Alphonsus in great perturbation sent for the accused, and told him of the charge.

Gerard stood like a statue, without uttering a word. Alphonsus, thinking him guilty, forbade him to receive holy communion, or to have any kind of communication with the outside world. The brother never made the slightest murmur. The fathers, convinced of his innocence, urged him to justify himself. “God will see to that,” he replied. When advised to ask at least for permission to communicate, and so alleviate his sufferings at being deprived of his Lord, he answered: “No; let us die in the wine-press of the will of God.”

Fifty days later God revealed his innocence. The wretched woman who had accused him retracted the calumny, avowing that she had acted under the inspiration of the devil. On being asked by Alphonsus why he had not asserted his innocence, Gerard made the heroic answer: “Father, does not the Rule ordain that we must not excuse ourselves?”

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Gerard lived another year in the practice of the highest virtue. At last, seeing that his end was approaching, he begged as a favor from Our Lord that he might be allowed to share in the sorrows of His Passion. Whereupon he was seized with such agonizing pains that he was forced to cry out: “O Lord, assist me in this Purgatory, I am enduring a true martyrdom.” He said to a father who asked him if he were suffering much: “I am in the wounds of Jesus and His wounds are in me.” On October 15, 1755, he said to the doctor, “I shall die tonight.” Then he recited the Miserere with such love and contrition that all present were moved to tears.

At eight o'clock he repeated: “My God, where art Thou? Show me Thy face.” Two hours later he exclaimed: “Behold the Madonna!” Then he repeated over and over with his eyes fixed on the crucifix and the image of Our Lady; “My God, I wish to die in order to do Thy most holy will.” So, like Jesus, he gave up his soul to his Father in heaven. Thus died at the age of twenty-nine this humble lay-brother, whom the Church has raised to her altars, and through whose resplendent sanctity innumerable miracles for centuries have been revealed.

Gerard was beatified on January 29, 1893 by Pope Leo XIII, and canonized on December 11, 1904 by Pope Saint Pius X. His feast day is October 16th. Prayers and novenas to him for motherhood, expectant mothers, and for many other needs and intercessions are available Here.

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When St. Alphonsus rebuked a man during Mass.

 

When St. Alphonsus rebuked a man during Mass who would not kneel to his God.

An excerpt from one of his biographers:

Alphonsus like all the saints was meek and patient under personal wrong, but he keenly resented an injury inflicted on souls, or an affront offered to God. In this latter case he found it difficult to control his indignation. Father de Robertis who accompanied him during his stay in Naples relates one striking instance of this.

On July 17, 1748, the servant of God was saying mass in the church of the Oratory, when on turning round to give communion he perceived a gentleman in the choir sitting in a lounging attitude with his legs crossed. “Ecce Angus Dei, Behold the Lamb of God,” said the saint fixing his glance on the offender. The man never moved. “Have you lost the use of your limbs,” exclaimed Alphonsus indignantly, “that you will not kneel before your God?”

The individual thus addressed knelt down in confusion, but he expressed his anger by coughing and making a thousand gestures of impatience up to the end of the mass. Alphonsus had not left the altar when the offended worshiper rushed into the sacristy, to demand the name of the insolent priest who had dared to reprove him. Doubtless he took his opponent for a man out of the woods and was anxious to give him a lesson in manners. But when he was told that the celebrant was Alphonsus de Liguori, he retired without waiting for an interview.

Life of St. Alphonus de Liguori, by Austin Berthe, Volume One, p. 335.

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Padre Pio's Great Easter Miracle

Paolina was gravely ill, with relatives and friends preparing for her death, but Padre Pio promised that during his Easter Mass she would rise with Christ.

In the early months of 1925, Paolina Preziosi, a holy woman and a good mother to her five children, fell ill with bronchitis. She was a Third Order Franciscan and well-liked by the people of San Giovanni Rotondo, where she lived. It was said of her that “she had a delicacy of conscience as rare and precious as her surname.”

As Holy Week approached, her condition became grave, and developed into pneumonia, but there was little the attending doctor could do. Difficult days lie ahead for Paolina. Her husband Lorenzo and the children became more and more upset as she grew visibly worse. Some of her friends approached Padre Pio to ask his help. But he replied: “What can I do, I am just a poor sinner”. He added that they must pray and keep on praying, so that the Lord does not take her. Her family, relatives, friends and neighbors did pray, but it seemed that their pleas were not reaching heaven. As her condition became increasingly desperate, the doctor began to fear for her life. Medicines had no effect, and she had almost stopped eating.

On Palm Sunday, her friends once more entreated Padre Pio. They recounted their fears for the fate of her five children if she were taken away from them. But he appeared preoccupied, as if he were not sure that Divine Providence would intervene. It seemed he felt that her destiny was already decided and could not be changed. The friends continued to persist: “Padre, the doctor says there is no hope.” Finally he came back to himself, and looked at them serenely, almost as if he had found a solution. Then he said to them decisively, “Paolina will rise with Jesus. She is such good person that the Lord wants her with Him in heaven, but her children need her. She must keep on praying and not be afraid. Tell her that she will rise again with the Lord.”

The words of Padre Pio assumed a prophetic significance, since he was announcing a miracle to occur at a specific time. “Padre Pio said Paolina will rise with the Lord,” the people repeated all during Holy Week. The news circulated throughout San Giovanni and even to neighboring towns in the province of Puglia, igniting disputes and discussions. The enemies of Padre Pio laughed, and awaited the day when the stupidity of those who believed in him would be confirmed. But others were certain that she would be cured; however, they wondered if the cure would occur at the Vigil Mass on Holy Saturday, or on Sunday.

The evening of Good Friday, the hapless woman continued to beg God to permit her to live for the sake of her children. Then Padre Pio, who was aware of her intense appeals, and was deeply moved, appeared to her in bilocation. “Do not fear,” he told her. “Do not fear, child of God, have faith and hope; at Mass tomorrow, when the church bells sound for Christ's Resurrection, you will be cured.”

The poor woman prayed all night, along with her friends, neighbors and relatives. They had already prepared the coffin, as was the custom in the area, since only a miracle could save her life. There was nothing doctors could do for her, because science was powerless to restore health to someone who was more dead than alive. Padre Pio, however, insisted they must continue praying to the Lord for her cure. But later that night she became comatose, and the Third Order members readied their Franciscan burial shroud, to clad her as soon as she passed.

Early in the morning on Holy Saturday, one of her relatives, with two of Paolina's children, went to the monastery in order to once again plead with Padre Pio, who was their last hope. In the face of their unbridled tears, especially of the little ones, he could not resist their request and he redoubled his prayers. “Heavenly Father, please grant that the Sacrifice of the Mass will renew the life and health of your worthy daughter. In her goodness she is ready to be with You, but permit her to remain here upon the earth for the sake of her five young children.” He embraced the two children who were present, pressing them close to himself. He was heartbroken by their innocent suffering.

In the meantime a note was passed to him, indicating that the parish priest had arrived at the Preziosi home to administer the last rites of the Church. As the morning progressed, he received further updates: she doesn't recognize anybody; she is practically dead.

After hearing confessions, Padre Pio donned his priestly vestments. He approached the altar and began the Easter Mass for Saturday in the monastery church of Our Lady of Grace. All eyes were on him. “He is sorrowful,” some said. “He has been crying,” said others. “I have never seen him so downcast.” But at the Gloria, everyone saw him transfigured, as large tears fell from his eyes. At the same time, the church bells, which had been silent all week, announced the Resurrection of Christ, ringing out their hosannas to the Lord!  Glory to God who has risen!

At the sound of the bells, Paolina Preziosi, as if impelled by a superhuman force, rose up from her bed. She lifted up to God and to Padre Pio prayers of praise and thanksgiving and gratitude. Her fever had disappeared, and her body had returned to life, with a vitality that neither medicine nor science were capable of returning to her. To the astonishment of everyone she was completely well.

People ran outside, shouting “Miracle! Paolina is cured!” The news reverberated everywhere, even reaching those who were at Mass. “The miracle has happened,” they whispered one to another, while tears streamed down their faces. At the termination of the ceremony, so many people pushed into the sacristy to see Padre Pio that the carabinieri had to intervene to curb the enthusiasm of the crowd.

Afterwards, someone remarked to him that perhaps God had wanted this woman to be with Him, but now she has come back to earth. Padre Pio replied: “It is also beautiful to be exiled from Paradise because of love!”

This mother of many children had obtained grace from the Mother of God. Padre Pio had prayed to Jesus and Saint Joseph, but in a special way to the Blessed Virgin. Certainly the phrase written over the entrance to one of the cells of his monastery must have come to his mind: “Mary is the entire reason for my hope.” (Maria e' tutta la ragione della mia speranza.)

This article is based on the original account researched by Alberto Del Fante for his book Per La Storia, with additional information from Padre Pio Il Santo dei Miracoli by Renzo Allegri.

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