Saint Boniface of Mainz, Apostle of Germany (ca. 680-755) Bishop and Martyr by Fr. Silas Henderson, S.D.S.

 You can read the original text here.

His life:

Boniface (whose baptismal name was Winfrid) was born in Devonshire, England. Educated by the Benedictines, he later lived as a monk in the abbeys of Exeter and Nursling.

With the blessing of his abbot, Boniface traveled to Friesland in 716, but his missionary efforts were unsuccessful. After returning to England, he was elected abbot of Nursling. Boniface resigned a short time later and traveled to Rome to seek the pope’s permission to evangelize the people of Germany.

In 745, Boniface established a number of monasteries throughout Germany. Going out from these mission centers, founded several dioceses and he was later named bishop of Mainz.

After serving the people of Germany for more than 20 years, Boniface was martyred on June 5, 755. Today, Saint Boniface is honored as a patron of Germany.

The Iverskaia Virgin, or Iberian Virgin

 You can read the original text in Portuguese here.

While researching old texts, we came across an article whose content caught our attention. The connections it draws to the Centennial of Fatima are so striking that we felt it would be of interest to share it with the readers of this blog. May the Iberian Virgin once again reign over the nation that profaned her!

One of the most important collections of icons—those distinctively Eastern religious paintings—in Europe, and perhaps in the world, can be found in the small city of Torrejón de Ardoz, not far from Madrid. There, in the old estate of the Jesuit College of Saint Isidore, the nobleman Sergei Otzoup established his Icon Museum.

The exact date of the estate’s construction is uncertain, but all indications suggest it was built in the early 17th century, when the Society of Jesus acquired a piece of land in Torrejón to supply the Imperial College, founded by Empress Maria, daughter of Charles V and widow of Maximilian I.

With the expulsion of the Jesuits from Spain in 1767, the estate was acquired by Don Juan de Aguirre. By 1805, the extensive property belonged to the House of Pignatelli of Aragon, Counts of Fuentes, who were closely associated with the spiritual sons of Saint Ignatius. During the restoration of the Society of Jesus under King Ferdinand VII, the Counts returned the property to the Jesuits.

Expelled once again in the 19th century, the Jesuits saw the estate revert to the Counts of Fuentes, who retained it until 1902. Finally, Don Rafael Onieva Ariza restored the property to its current magnificence and repurposed it for cultural use, naming it La Casa Grande.

Walking through the halls of La Casa Grande and entering the Icon Museum, one image stands out in particular: the Iverskaia Virgin, or Iberian Virgin.

In this icon, the Mother of God is portrayed with the Christ Child resting on her left arm, bearing the majesty of one seated on His rightful throne. It is in Mary that Jesus finds His delight. While she tenderly supports and protects the Divine Child, her right arm gestures toward Him, indicating to the faithful that He is the model of all perfection and the supreme Judge of every cause. As the Universal Mediatrix of all graces, her gentle gaze turns to each devotee who kneels before her, seeking her intercession and trusting in her care.

The harmony and sweetness radiating from the image—rendered in soft, blended tones of red and gold—are jarringly disrupted by several bullet holes visible in the painting. Clear marks of gunfire can be seen on both the Mother’s and the Child’s faces.

This startling desecration dates to a not-so-distant past. The date? May 13, 1917.

Yes—while Our Lady was appearing for the first time in Fatima, beginning a series of apparitions in which she foretold the spread of Russia’s errors throughout the world as a chastisement for humanity’s sins and promised the eventual triumph of her Immaculate Heart, this act of sacrilege was taking place in Moscow during the unrest that preceded the Bolshevik Revolution.

Sadly, as is well known, following the Eastern Schism, few of the faithful in the Russian Empire remained united to the See of Peter. A striking example of what remained of that union occurred during the jubilee of Saint Pius X, when a delegation of Russian Catholics presented the Holy Pontiff with an icon of the Mother of God—specifically under the title of Iverskaia Virgin. This suggests that devotion to Our Lady under this title predates Russia’s break with Rome and may even carry prophetic significance for the conversion of Russia, as foretold in the Message of Fatima.

Even within schism, the Blessed Virgin continued to be venerated—albeit outside the true Church of Christ—in countless sanctuaries and through many icons scattered across that vast land. Among them, the Iberian Virgin stood out as the patroness of Moscow. Her name traces back to the region of Iberia, in southern Russia near the Caucasus. According to museum brochures and postcards from Torrejón de Ardoz, this icon was painted in the 16th century and once stood in a small chapel at the entrance to the Kremlin.

After the Tsar was deposed, during the brief regency of Prince Lvov under Kerensky’s government, the chapel was so thoroughly destroyed on that fateful May 13th of the revolutionary year that not one stone remained. The Iverskaia Virgin icon was riddled with bullets—and it is said she wept when profaned. Believed lost during the months leading up to the Bolshevik Revolution, the icon was preserved—along with many others—thanks to Sergei Otzoup, who succeeded in removing them from Russia in December 1918.

Today, on display at the Icon Museum of La Casa Grande, the Iverskaia Virgin—desecrated in a hatred for religion—remains a sign of hope. A symbol above all for Russia, and also for the world, of the new era promised by Our Lady at Fatima and prophesied by Saint Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort—the extraordinary French missionary of the 17th century—as the coming of the Reign of Mary.

 Source: Revista Catolicismo, May 1986

Mother Francisca of Jesus: A Great Brazilian Mystic – May 28th by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira.

 You can read the original text here.

 

The name of Mother Francisca of Jesus, foundress of the Companhia da Virgem (Company of the Virgin), who passed away on May 28, 1932—93 years ago—is largely unknown among us.

Born Francisca Carvalho do Rio Negro, she was the ninth daughter of the Barons of Rio Negro. She was born in Petrópolis on March 27, 1877, and spent her early childhood in Brazil. At a very young age, her family relocated to Europe, settling in Paris. She would rarely see her homeland again; yet, by the hidden designs of Divine Providence, the work she would go on to found in distant lands would one day return to Brazil, to fulfill its high purpose in this nation so in need of priests: prayer for the Pope and for priestly vocations.

This, however, did not unfold without immense struggles. The future foundress was far from imagining what Heaven expected of her—especially because Heaven took its time to reveal its plans, leaving her perplexed for many years.

In her teenage years, moved by an impulse whose spontaneity could only be attributed to divine inspiration, Francisca made a vow of perpetual virginity before a small image of Our Lady of Lourdes, which always accompanied her. Could she have known the fierce battles she would face in defending this vow? For 14 years, she had to endure constant pressure from her family, who insisted on marrying her off. Worse still, her confessor failed to understand her, declaring her vow invalid—even though he was a man of virtue who would later be elevated to the episcopate.

God’s Challenge – Over time, Francisca succeeded in convincing everyone of the truth: God was not calling her to marriage. What a struggle it was! Suitors were never lacking. She possessed a noble and serene beauty—her high forehead, long straight nose, firm and well-shaped mouth, all framed in the elegant oval of her face and illuminated by deep, expressive, and determined eyes. Her beauty was both great and dignified.

She had won her first battle. Now in the noonday of her thirties, her natural strength was affirmed by maturity, while her spiritual life had become a well-tilled, fertile field. And there she was: free—no longer bound by family or spiritual director—ready to respond to the first call from the One to whom she had wholly consecrated herself.

But that call would delay yet another three years. Francisca now found herself like someone who, having sacrificed everything for an ideal, sees it slip away just as it seemed within reach. Her spiritual director required her to try various paths, all of which led nowhere; the way God intended for her remained hidden. "I wanted to do the divine will, no matter the cost—yet it was impossible to discern it!" she would later write in notes from that period of her life.

The Foundation – At sea (it was October, and she was returning with her mother from what would be her last visit to Brazil), Francisca—no more than a speck in the vastness of the ocean, yet a speck entirely held in God’s favor—was invited by the Lord into deeper prayer. In the midst of great recollection, the fog began to lift, and her vocation gradually became clear. Extraordinary lights began to illuminate her understanding of the priesthood, the ecclesiastical hierarchy, and the value of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. She came to understand that she must go to Rome and speak to the Holy Father about founding a religious order dedicated to prayer and self-offering for the Pope, the hierarchy, and priestly vocations.

Throughout the remainder of that voyage, this ideal became more defined, complete, and luminous—refined by the same hand that had inspired it.

Finally, on December 13, 1910, she was received by Pope St. Pius X. The great pontiff, whose life sanctified the Church, quickly recognized the supernatural origin of Francisca’s ideals. He granted her several audiences and ultimately encouraged her to begin a trial foundation, assigning Cardinal Pompili as its protector.

From that time come her first companions—two young women also captivated by the noble mission of intercession for the Church. For this small group, Pope Pius X granted the rare privilege of the Consecration of Virgins, which was solemnly carried out on February 6, 1912. This tiny seed of the Companhia da Virgem settled into an apartment on Corso d’Italia.

At that moment, the forces of modern civilization were aligning to shape a future of naturalism and neo-paganism. The prelude to the Great War was complete. Yet amid this vast storm, Our Lord was preparing a mystical counteroffensive through three poor, hidden, and humble women. In time, history would judge which side proved stronger.

As the foundation grew, the community moved to larger quarters. First to Villa Patrizi, near Porta Pia. Then to a more spacious residence surrounded by gardens at Via Tuscolana 367—now owned by the Congregation—where Mother Francisca had a small chapel built, dedicated to the Immaculate Conception. On June 12, 1921, Cardinal Pompili consecrated this church, and the house was officially named the “Priorado da Virgem” (Priory of the Virgin).

The Marvelous – At this point, Mother Francisca reached that fullness of Christian life which transcends the daily grind and the mediocrity of routine. It is a liberation from worldly triviality—because even the most mundane aspects of earthly life gain new and uncommon meaning. It is a “second degree” of living, in which sorrow, joy, and suffering are lifted to a higher plane and transfigured, for all is directed toward a single ideal: everything refers to it, everything is sacrificed for it, everything is committed to it.

After founding the community, her life reached full maturity. Even in handling minor misunderstandings and inevitable contradictions that every foundation must face, she did so with extraordinary grace. Meanwhile, her inner torments returned with renewed intensity. To add to it all, her health was irreparably compromised by the onset of Basedow’s disease—a progressive poisoning of the body that amplifies pain to the point that minor discomforts become nearly unbearable. She underwent a major surgery in 1922, and the following year, doctors despaired of saving her again. She required a second operation for an abscess inside her skull. Yet she recovered, following a novena to Pope Pius X. Later, she was again miraculously healed from a phlegmon through the intercession of St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus, who appeared to her.

These cascading hardships did not prevent her from organizing the contemplative life of her convent with meticulous care. But she was physically spent. On October 28, 1922, crushed by both internal and external suffering, she feared she might collapse. In a final act of will, she offered this prayer: “And yet, I want to suffer with You, my Lord Jesus.” At that moment, she saw Jesus carrying His Cross, followed by a jeering crowd. He said to her: “Who has suffered as I have? Follow Me—I need you. Will you refuse to come?”

No—it would not be Mother Francisca of Jesus who refused. At once, she begged His forgiveness and asked for the grace of true love. As a mark of this extraordinary favor, the Holy Face of Jesus was imprinted on the wall of her cell, just as it had once been impressed on Veronica’s veil. That image remains there to this day, preserved under glass.

Later still, during another difficult chapter for the Foundation, Mother Francisca—again overwhelmed by spiritual desolation—heard the interior voice of the late Pope Pius X say: “To your work, which is also mine, no harm shall come.”

In late 1928, several postulants in whom she had placed great hope left the Priory. Yet another interior voice consoled her: “You and your boat shall be shaken—but neither you, nor your boat, will sink.”

“You Have Loved Me” – Thus, the final stage of her life was wrapped in that golden dust found in the Fioretti or the Legenda Aurea. Her smallest gestures carried supernatural resonance. Yet above all this hung a dense darkness: Mother Francisca often believed she had lost her faith.

From this period come her most beautiful and inspired writings. Though she was enveloped in spiritual night, she was often pierced by flashes of intense divine light that plunged her into ecstatic joy. These writings are of the highest spiritual value and place their author among the great contemplatives of the Church.

She lived her final years in this way until she surrendered her soul to the Creator on May 28, 1932. Two years before her death, she wrote to her daughters: “We must love Our Lord generously, unto the destruction of self—which is absolutely necessary if one truly wishes to love Him.” And indeed, Mother Francisca had been so wholly emptied of self that nothing remained in her but what Christ Himself had built. She had been reborn; all that was sinful in her had died.

After her death, many miracles of healing and conversion occurred through her intercession. But the greatest miracle may have been this: the Companhia da Virgem lost its house on Via Tuscolana, 367... and so it moved to Brazil—to Petrópolis—returning to the homeland of its holy foundress, to continue its prayer for vocations in a country so in need of clergy.

A Rooster to Awaken the Pope—And Us Too!

 You can read the original text in Portuguese here.

 

The rooster awakens those who sleep—just as it once awakened the first Pope. And it reminds us of the sorrowful fragility of human nature: always prone to sin, and thus always in need of God’s mercy.

In the ancient ceremonies marking the beginning of the Petrine ministry, one constant and unmistakable concern stood out: it was essential to remind the new Pope that, despite the office he was assuming, he remained a mere mortal.

One of these rites—quite famous—consisted of burning a tuft of tow before the Pontiff while the master of ceremonies solemnly proclaimed: Sancte Pater, sic transit gloria mundi! — “Holy Father, thus passes the glory of the world!”

This gesture took place during the old papal coronation Mass. Paul VI was the last to celebrate it. The Bishop of Rome was crowned like a king and led in great pomp through St. Peter’s Basilica, but rituals like this served as a true antidote to vanity. They reminded everyone: the papal office is indeed noble and exalted; but the Pope is not God, nor is he above Him.

Another moving symbol with similar meaning could be found at the Basilica of St. John Lateran, during the Mass in which the Pope takes possession of the “Roman cathedra.” (Leo XIV will celebrate this Mass next Sunday, May 25.)

The ceremony involved a bronze rooster perched atop a column near the basilica’s doors. According to some historians, the rooster was pointed out to the Pope at a specific moment during the rite, evoking the Gospel rooster and urging him to “have compassion on the faults of his flock, just as Christ had compassion and forgave Peter’s threefold denial.”

This rite lasted until the 18th century, and we should not expect anything like it next Sunday. Yet the reality to which it pointed remains true, and the newly elected Pope has already alluded to it on at least two occasions.

First, in his audience with the cardinals two days after his election:

“The Pope, from Saint Peter to myself, his unworthy successor, is a humble servant of God and of the brethren—nothing more.”

And again, in the homily for the inauguration Mass of the Petrine ministry:

“If the rock is Christ, Peter must shepherd the flock without ever yielding to the temptation of becoming a solitary leader or a chief placed above others, becoming a master over those entrusted to him. Rather, he is called to serve the faith of his brothers, walking with them.”

Let us not forget, then: the Pope is the successor of Peter, the vicar of Christ, the Pontiff of pontiffs—yes; but ultimately, he is also a man, like us. When personal dislikes (or emotional enthusiasms!) toss us to and fro, threatening to shake our faith… let us remember the rooster!

For the rooster awakens those who sleep—just as it once awakened the first Pope. And it reminds us of the sorrowful fragility of human nature: always prone to sin, and thus always in need of God’s mercy.

Blessed John Shert - English Priest and Martyr (d. 1582) by by Brother Silas Henderson, S.D.S.

You can read the original text here.

 

John Shert was born in Cheshire, England, and educated at Oxford. 

After receiving his degree, he worked as a schoolmaster in London.

Inspired by the example of other priests serving England’s persecuted Catholic community, John traveled to France and began his studies for the priesthood at Douai; he was ordained a priest in Rome.

John served in the English missions from 1579 to July 14, 1581, when he was arrested on suspicion of his being involved in a fictitious plot against the Queen (now known as the “Rome and Rheims Plot”).

Although there was little evidence brought forward at his trial, he was condemned to be executed on the same days as two other English priests: Blessed Thomas Ford and Blessed Robert Johnson (who are also honored on this day).

As he watched the disemboweling of Blessed Thomas, John called out, “O blessed soul, happy art though; pray for me!”

Given one final opportunity to save himself, John was asked if he would affirm Queen Elizabeth’s status as head of the Church in England, he answered, “She is not nor cannot be, nor any other, but only the supreme pastor.”

Blessed John Shert, Blessed Thomas Ford, and Blessed Robert Johnson were beatified with other English martyrs in 1886.

Mother Esperanza and the miraculous water, like Lourdes

 You can read the original text here.

María Josefa Alhama Valera, now known as Mother Esperanza, was born in Santomera (Spain) on September 30, 1893, into a very humble family. Her father was a day laborer in the fields and her mother was a housewife. She was the eldest of nine siblings.

María was only 12 years old when she received the inspiration to spread devotion to the Merciful Love of Jesus. She was a very intelligent girl, which caught the attention of a neighbor of the family. The neighbor advised them to take her to live with the parish priest of the city and his two sisters, so that she could receive some education. This was the only education Maria Josefa received, because she never had the opportunity to go to school.

At the age of 21, she left for Villena with the great desire she had nurtured since childhood to become a saint like Teresa of Avila.

In Villena, she joined the Daughters of Calvary, changing her name to María Esperanza de Jesús Agonizante. Later, the congregation merged with the Claretian Missionaries, and she herself thus became a Claretian.

God had other plans for Sister Esperanza. On Christmas Eve 1930, in Madrid, in the aftermath of the Spanish Civil War, she founded an association called “Las esclavas del Amor Misericordioso” (Slaves of Merciful Love).

Together with her new sisters, she opened several schools in Spain to provide shelter and a hot meal to orphaned and poor children affected by the war.

In 1936, she moved to Rome to open a new community of the Slaves of Merciful Love with some of her sisters.

She worked with her sisters on the outskirts of Rome, taking in orphaned girls. Later, World War II broke out. In addition to poor children, many sick people began to arrive at her congregation, trusting in the care of the little sisters. They had to reinvent themselves as nurses given the number of wounded from the bombings in Rome.

After the war, in 1951, Mother Esperanza moved to Collevalenza, in the province of Perugia, Italy. There, she founded the male branch, “The Sons of Merciful Love.”

She died on February 8, 1983. She was beatified with Pope Francis’ approval in Collevalenza on May 31, 2014.

Her remains are venerated in the crypt of the Shrine of Merciful Love, which she built in Collevalenza. Her liturgical memorial is on February 8, the day of her birth into heaven.

 

Mother Esperanza, like Padre Pio?

In Italy, Mother Esperanza is often compared to Padre Pio because of some similarities in the miracles performed through them.

Like Padre Pio, she was capable of bilocation. At night she fought with the devil, who inflicted various injuries on her. At one point, she also had the stigmata of Jesus Christ. However, she asked God for the grace to remove the wounds because she couldn’t work with her hands.

There’s still a living witness to the many miracles of Mother Esperanza: Pietro Iacopini. He started as a young atheist, but thanks to her he became a believer and accompanied the blessed for 35 years.

Among the most important miracles is the episode in which she fed 500 people with the little food that one of those present had donated. Iacopini recounts that the level of the pots of food remained the same without emptying. A true “multiplication of the loaves"!

Other events witnessed by Iacopini include: when money rained from the sky and was used to pay the workers who built the shrine (many witnessed this miracle); the appearance out of nothing of a statue of the Baby Jesus that was to be displayed in the manger; and occasions when many people, including the bishop of Todi (Italy), witnessed her various states of ecstasy.

 

The miraculous well

One day, Mother Esperanza, on the orders of Jesus Christ himself, ordered that a hole be dug in the mountain at the place she indicated. She claimed that they would find a source of miraculous water there.

The construction companies she called refused to do the work, saying that it was impossible to get water in such a dry place. Eventually, a very important company from northern Italy agreed. They said that they would do it only because of the money they would receive, and that it would be free money.

To their amazement, one night they managed to find water after digging several meters deep.

The workers immediately called Mother Esperanza to tell her that they had found water. She looked down into the hole to see the water, but it was very dark. Then, the whole well lit up, to the amazement of the workers, seminarians, nuns, and lay people present. They were able to see the water flowing in the depths of the well thanks to that miraculous light.

Jesus told Mother Esperanza: “I want to use you as food and sustenance for many souls. May my sons and daughters draw from you the substance of this work to give me much glory in this Shrine, with the sweet perfume of sacrifice, prayer, renunciation, and the continuous exercise of charity and love towards those most in need.”

The shrine’s basilica, designed by Spanish architect Julio Lafuente, was built on the site where the water was found.

It consists of 10 chapels, the most important of which are the Chapel of the Crucifix of Merciful Jesus, the Chapel of the Child Jesus, the crypt where the body of Mother Esperanza lies, and the altar dedicated to Mary, Mediatrix of Mercy.

At the two side entrances, under a cone of light, are two white marble holy water fonts, contrasting with the rough stone that supports them. They symbolize the soul purified by the grace of God.

Not far from the basilica are the pools where pilgrims immerse themselves to receive grace through the “Liturgy of the Waters,” led by the priests of the Sons of Merciful Love.

Thousands of pilgrims arrive every year and are welcomed by the entire “Charismatic Family of Merciful Love” in facilities where they can stay for several days or just for the day, visiting with faith the places that Mother Esperanza had built for them.