September 23, yesterday, was the feast day of St. Padre Pio or St. Pius de Pietrelcina (Italy), who was canonized in 2002 by Pope (now Saint) John Paul II.
In the Philippines, the national shrine of Padre Pio is located in Sto. Tomas, Batangas, where veritable hordes of pilgrims and devotees flock every day throughout the year.
Admittedly, I’m an avowed pilgrim-devotee of Padre Pio, regularly frequenting his Batangas shrine on a monthly basis with my wife for over four years now. Of course, like other devotees, I and my wife cannot deny having one and manifold intentions or prayer petitions for our resolve to keep on going back to Padre Pio’s shrine.
Have our prayer intentions been granted? I will try to answer that in the latter part of this piece. Meanwhile, let me first tackle “who was Padre Pio?”
Originally named Francesco Forgione, Padre Pio or St. Pius de Pietrelcina was an Italian Franciscan Capuchin friar, stigmatist and mystic, popularly known for his phenomenal gifts of “bilocation and odor of sanctity.” At age 15, he joined the Franciscan Capuchin order and took the name Pio in honor of St. Pius I.
In 1910, the year in which he was ordained priest, he received for the first time the stigmata (bodily marks corresponding to the wounds suffered by the crucified Jesus), though said wounds eventually healed. He received the stigmata again in 1918, and this time they remained with him until his death in 1968.
Another outstanding attribute Padre Pio is known for is his phenomenal gift of bilocation, defined as “the simultaneous presence of the same person in two different places.” Padre Pio was able to be in different places at the same time. He was able to speak, listen, and be present in two or more different events all at once.
According to documented sources,
“Among the most remarkable of the documented cases of bilocation was the Padre’s appearance in the air over San Giovanni Rotondo during World War II. While Southern Italy remained in Nazi hands, American bombers were given the job of attacking the city of San Giovanni Rotondo. However, when they appeared over the city and prepared to unload their munitions, a brown-robed friar appeared before their aircraft. All attempts to release the bombs failed. In this way, Padre Pio kept his promise to the citizens that their town would be spared. Later on, when an American airbase was established at Foggia a few miles away, one of the pilots of this incident visited the Friary and found to his surprise the little friar he had seen in the air that day over San Giovanni.”
In a report submitted to the Holy See in October 4, 1921 by the bishop of Volterra, Raffaele Rossi, who was commissioned by the Vatican to make a canonical inquiry, Padre Pio, when asked about the reported incidents of his bilocation, replied:
“I don’t know how it is or the nature of this phenomenon – and I don’t give it much thought – but it did happen to me to be in the presence of this or that person, to be in this or that place. I do not know whether my mind was transported there, or what I saw was some sort of representation of the place or the person. I do not know whether I was there with my body or without it.”
In another instance, Padre Pio gives an account of his bilocation:
“One night, I found myself at the bedside of a sick woman, Maria Massa, in San Giovanni Rotondo. I didn’t know her personally. She had been recommended to me.”
Closely related with Padre Pio’s bilocation is the phenomenon of odor, aptly called odor of sanctity. Witnesses during his time have attested smelling odors associated with his presence, described by some as roses and by others as tobacco. The odor was especially strong as that from the blood coming from his wounds.
As in Padre Pio’s time and even to this day, believers claim that the odors occur whenever people call upon his intercession in prayer (it’s quite interesting to find out in our present time if devotees do experience Padre Pio’s odor of sanctity in their prayer moments).
Up to this day, Padre Pio’s remains are incorrupted, lying in a sanctuary in San Giovanni Rotondo, Southern Italy.
Now, rewind to my regular pilgrimage to Padre Pio’s shrine.
It’s important first to lay down our understanding of what is a “pilgrimage.” Derived from the Latin perigrinum, “pilgrim” literally means wandering over a distance to some sacred place for spiritual purposes.
Thus, the Catholic Encyclopedia aptly defines a pilgrimage as a “journey made to some place with the purpose of veneration, or in order to ask for supernatural or divine aid, or to discharge some religious obligation.”
As I have belabored asking earlier, have I and my wife gained some tangible benefits or that, in particular, have our prayer intentions been granted in our persistent sojourn to Padre Pio’s shrine?
I must confess, the answer is in the affirmative – paltry or significant the answered prayers may have been. Admittedly, yes, not all were granted, as others are yet in the waiting list. But, truth to tell, I’m keeping tab of those that have come to fruition – by God’s grace.
On a peripheral note, howbeit, I have gathered some rather extraneous or “uncharacteristic of pilgrimage” observations at the shrine, like: 1) some “pilgrims” do not seem to be on pilgrimage spirit but on a tour mode – more on picture taking and less on praying; 2) the surroundings are teeming with brisk business with all sorts of religious articles, souvenir items, food delicacies, or what not, being sold – likely exhibiting a figurative semblance of the Biblical “temple marketplace” of Jesus’ time.
But, regardless of the extraneous or “non-pilgrimage like” characteristics, and our prayer intentions answered or not, I can’t fail to pinpoint some collateral benefits of the pilgrimage: 1) a sense of fulfillment in having accomplished a spiritual task, a selfless sacrifice intended for God through Padre Pio’s intercession; 2) imbibing the sacredness of the place, which somehow relaxes or calms the spirit; and 3) relishing or drawing some divine strength, which re-invigorates or re-charges the soul.
But, most importantly, it yet behooves asking: What is really the point of a pilgrimage?
The Second Vatican Council’s declaration, Nostra Aetate (In Our Time), acknowledges the natural, basic curiosity of humans to ask:
“What is man? What is the meaning and aim of our life? What is moral good, what is sin? Whence suffering and what purpose does it serve? Which is the road to true happiness? What are death, judgment and retribution after death?”
In a way, pilgrimage seeks the answers to such questions and is therefore a “common human experience in which one seeks to fulfill a ritual obligation, perform an act of devotion to atone their sins, live an experience of spirituality, or implore a grace, a miracle, a cure, etc.” (Deborah Castellano Lubov, simplycatholic.com).
In all, pilgrimage should not be understood in a narrow sense, but should be rightly construed as our “journey heavenward.” Vatican II’s Lumen Gentium speaks of the pilgrim Church that journeys onward to the heavenly Jerusalem. The council’s Gaudium et Spes says the Church is a community of disciples “led by the Holy Spirit in their journey to the kingdom of the Father.”
Wherefore, in sum, the point of a pilgrimage is never just a journey to a place of religious interest – more importantly, it is a journey of one’s heart to God. And the real difference is seen in the way we conduct our life once we are back home from the pilgrimage.