St. Pio
Today is the feast day of Padre Pio, the beloved and remarkable 20th century saint and mystic (much background here).
Last year I read a story about a young Bishop Karol Wojtyla writing to him through diplomatic channels to pray for a particular person’s health. When Pio learned of the author of the letter he told the bearer to preserve it, because it would be important one day, as of course it was when the bishop became Pope John Paul the Great. There was a remarkable news wirephoto from John Paul’s last hospital stay, clearly showing the unmistakeable reflection of Padre Pio in the window glass of the pope’s hospital room several stories up.
For fifty years he bore the wounds of Christ. My late pastor, Monsignor Glavin, told me of having served Mass for Padre Pio when he (Glavin) was a young seminarian at the North American College in Rome.
“His hands were all bundled in bandages, and when he pronounced the words of consecration they began to bleed, which was only visible to those of us closely attending him.”
Monsignor, who bore many infirmities of his own in his last years, had learned from the master to bear them gracefully.
Gracefully.
