A Tale of Two Saints

Today we celebrate the feasts of two very different men.

One lived in the first century and probably died a martyr. The other lived during the 20th century and died at the ripe old age of 81.

One was the disciple of Peter and Paul, becoming the second Pope after Saint Peter’s martrydom. The other was a simple Capuchin friar.

Of one, we know very little other than a passing reference in 2 Timothy 4:21 and a few sentences in the works of Saint Irenaeus and Saint Jerome. The other was the subject of numerous meticulous official reports, some running into hundreds of pages, not to mention dozens of biographies.

And yet, they are united in the love of God, in holiness, and in obedience.

Of Saint Linus, the Liber Pontificalis tells us only this:

Linus, by nationality an Italian, from the province of Tuscany, son of Herculanus, occupied the see 11 years, 3 months and 12 days. He was bishop in the time of Nero from the consulship of Saturninus and Scipio (AD 56) until the year when Capito and Rufus were consuls (AD 67). He was crowned with martyrdom.

A paltry few lines, and yet his name is in the Roman Canon right after those of Peter and Paul. It seems like there’s an awful lot left unsaid.

Of Saint Pio, on the other hand, there is almost too much information to adequately process. His miracles and stigmata were repeatedly investigated by the Vatican, and it seems as if each report contradicts the next. He was reportedly able to bi-locate, levitate, and heal by touch.

When the Church suspended his faculties to say Mass or hear Confession, sometimes for years, he obeyed without so much as a peep of protest. He was investigated some 25 times, and at various times he was forbidden from saying Mass in public, from publishing, or from receiving visitors. He bore it all.

When his faculties were returned without apology, he voiced no complaint but merely went back to praying the Mass and hearing Confessions.

This meek obedience to his lawful superiors is in direct contradiction to some modern priests, who howl when their bishop comes calling.

I cannot imagine the pain that Saint Pio endured, suffering stigmata while doctors and psychologists who had never examined him pronounced them fake in official reports to the Church. One report even called him “an ignorant and self-mutilating psychopath who exploited people’s credulity.” The author later met Pio and changed his mind.

The doctors who actually examined him were perplexed, for the wounds remained open and uninfected, with smooth edges. His stigmata so embarassed him that he hid his hands with mittens. Hours before his death, the wounds closed.

He bore his sufferings in union with Christ, so as to perfect those sufferings.

Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church, of which I am a minister in accordance with God’s stewardship given to me to bring to completion for you the word of God, the mystery hidden from ages and from generations past.

(Colossians 1:24 – 26)

So when I said earlier that these two saints were united in the love of God, in holiness, and in obedience, I forgot one important trait they shared: the imitation of Christ as suffering servant.

Edited to add: Te Deum laudamus has a great, great post on Saint Pio’s obedience and suffering.