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ОглавлениеChapter Seven
The Double Exile
Back in Pietrelcina
Padre Pio called the five years between 1911 and 1916 his “double exile” because he was separated from his religious community as well as from heaven. It was, however, during these years that his reputation for sanctity spread from his religious community to his hometown.
Since the Capuchin Constitutions specified that a friar forced by some exigency to live apart from his community was not to live at home with his family (as many secular priests did), Padre Pio lived during the summer in the cabin his father had built him in the Piana Romana, and during the winter he dwelt in “The Tower,” the one-room structure owned by his parents near the family home.
This was not a time of placid retreat. Padre Pio’s health, although better than it was when he was living in community, continued precarious; there were difficulties with his family; there was, at first, misunderstanding on the part of the townsfolk. There was trouble with his superiors. And there were also great spiritual trials, including terrifying diabolical assaults.
In addition to his usual disorders, Padre Pio began to suffer from unspecified eye troubles. During much of 1912, he had difficulty reading and writing, and saying Mass posed a great problem because, in addition to the text that is the same every day, there are different propers — that is, prayers and readings that are intended specifically for each day’s liturgy, too many to memorize. He had to struggle through the Mass holding a lamp in front of his missal. To save Padre Pio from straining his weak vision, his superiors gave him permission to use one of two Masses each day: the Mass of Our Lady and the Mass of the Dead. He was thus able to memorize the propers for these two Masses and not worry about using any others. He was also excused from reading the Divine Office and was permitted to pray the Rosary in its place.
Family Troubles
In the letters he wrote to his superiors, Padre Pio almost never made any direct references to his relatives. Orazio was living in Queens, New York, doing “pick and shovel work” for the Erie Railroad.1 Michele was also working in New York, while his wife and little son, Francesco, remained in Pietrelcina. “Franceschino” (Little Francis) was adored by his namesake, Padre Pio.
Padre Pio’s mother, Giuseppa, had been managing the farm virtually alone for more than a decade. Felicita, who was closest in age to Padre Pio and who was his favorite sibling, married Vincenzo Masone (perhaps the same person who entered the Capuchin order with Padre Pio, but quickly left). Masone was an administrator in the town hall. Their daughter, Giuseppina, was born in 1912, followed by sons Pellegrino and Ettore. Padre Pio’s sister Pellegrina, at the age of twenty, gave birth out of wedlock to a son named Angelo Michele in July 1912. A year later, pregnant again, she married a tailor named Antonio Masone and moved with him into his parents’ house, where she gave birth to a daughter whom she named Maria Giuseppa, after her mother. Her husband acknowledged paternity of both children. Sadly, both died as toddlers. Then Pellegrina’s husband deserted her and left for America, never to return to her. Baby sister Graziella evidently still lived at home. A “pale, fragile” girl, she aspired to become a nun, but to enter most women’s religious orders at the time required a university degree, or else a substantial financial payment called a “dowry.” She hadn’t the means to obtain either.
There were clearly some family troubles at this time. In later years, Padre Pio told his niece Pia (Michele’s daughter, who was born several years later in 1924), “I had to go to Pietrelcina to straighten things out at home.”2 Just what things needed to be straightened out he did not say.
In a letter to Padre Agostino on May 1, 1912, Padre Pio made a brief comment that may be an allusion to some tension with his mother: “In my greatest sufferings it seems to me that I no longer have a mother on this earth, but a very compassionate one in heaven [Mary].”3 It seems Giuseppa blamed her son’s poor health on the ascetical life of the Capuchins and evidently opposed his return to community life. She and the archpriest Pannullo were pressuring him to leave the order and become a secular priest. Giuseppa frequently told Padre Pio, “Dear boy, with your poor health, how can you get along in a monastery with monks? I weep for you, my dear.”4
Comments like this caused Padre Pio grief and frustration, but his relationship with his mother was not the family crisis that seems to have been part of the reason why he believed the Lord wanted him in Pietrelcina. If not always in agreement with his goals, “Mammella” was entirely supportive. Referring to the fact that his order expected his parents to pay his medical bills, Padre Pio insisted, “They give their very blood for me without the slightest regret.”5
The greatest problem seems to have been Padre Pio’s sister Pellegrina. In May 1913, surmising his unmarried sister was pregnant for a second time, he wrote to Padre Agostino: “How I suffer … because of certain obstinate souls, and how I would even give my life that they might come to their senses and give themselves entirely to God. What devastates me most is that among these are souls united to me by ties of kinship.”6 The subject of Pellegrina seems to have been a forbidden topic for most who knew the family. Pellegrina was remembered by her niece Pia as lively and very beautiful — the prettiest of the three Forgione sisters — with long auburn hair. But she would say no more. Other people, willing to speak only anonymously, characterized her as “evil” and “a devil.” One Italian author described her as a “prostitute,” by which he probably did not mean that she exchanged her favors for money, but that she was “sexually liberated.” A man who knew her well said that she was perhaps the greatest source of grief and pain in Padre Pio’s life, but refused to elaborate, saying it was too painful. Apparently rebelling against everything the rest of her family believed and practiced, Pellegrina evidently led a life that scandalized not only her family but her neighbors too. The prayers and counsel of her family seemed all in vain. With her father and older brother in America, one wonders whether she displayed violent conduct toward her mother, which might be why, as the only adult male in the family, Padre Pio felt he had to be nearby to protect his mother and his youngest sister.
Assisting the Archpriest
Pannullo, the archpriest, loved Padre Pio like a son. Once, as the two of them took their evening walk, he confided his hopes that the younger man would leave the Capuchins so that he could succeed him as archpriest at Pietrelcina. “Pati,” answered Padre Pio, “I’d die before I’d abandon the habit of St. Francis!”7
During his “exile” in Pietrelcina, Padre Pio celebrated Mass nearly every day, often in rural churches that were part of the parish. He also taught school. One of his students, Celestino Orlando, recalled in his seventies how diligently Padre Pio had worked to help him, a slow student, learn mathematics. Once, as a reward for mastering a particularly hard problem, Padre Pio invited the boy to his home to enjoy a dinner of fried fish. Orlando remembered Padre Pio as a strict disciplinarian who always prayed before he taught. If two boys fought and swore, Padre Pio would not hesitate to take off one of his sandals and swat at them with it.
Padre Pio also organized adult education classes and held school in the fields, successfully teaching farmers and laborers to read and write. Moreover, he got together a choir of fifteen boys and taught them how to sing various hymns. He led them without accompaniment, singing along in what has been described as a robust, fervent, but unmusical baritone voice.
Padre Pio was not welcomed at first at the archpriest’s domicile. Pannullo lived with a brother and his three daughters: Antonietta, Rosina, and Grazia. Antonietta, the oldest, was married and had children who lived there at the house. She was afraid that Padre Pio had tuberculosis and would infect her children, and whenever the young priest came to see her uncle, she and her sisters refused to talk, for fear of being infected if they opened their mouths. They made Padre Pio sit on the same chair every time he came and drink out of the same cup, which they set apart for his exclusive use. One evening Antonietta humiliated Padre Pio terribly when Archbishop Schinosi of Benevento came to visit Pannullo and insisted that Padre Pio join them at the dinner table. Antonietta flew into a terrible rage, berating her uncle for allowing a tubercular priest to eat at the same table with her children, and she forced him to tell Padre Pio to leave.
Antonietta’s sister Rosina was horrified that Padre Pio was using the same vestments, chalice, and paten as the other priests in the parish, and she demanded that her uncle provide a separate set for Padre Pio’s exclusive use. The henpecked archpriest yielded to the demands of his niece.
One day the sacristan, Michele Pilla, got drunk and forgot to change the chalice. While Padre Pio was celebrating Mass, Rosina noticed he was not using his special chalice. She called the sacristan and demanded that he switch the chalice on the spot. In front of the entire congregation, the sacristan interrupted Padre Pio’s Mass to exchange chalices.
This was too much for Padre Pio. That evening, as they took their walk, he complained to Pannullo: “I must tell you that I’m angry about two things. First, your niece Antonietta doesn’t want me in the house, lest I give my disease to her children. Second, your other niece, this very morning, while I was celebrating, told the sacristan to change the chalices. Well, today the Lord gave me the grace of knowing that my disease is not contagious.” This motivated Pannullo to put his foot down. He had a conference with his nieces, and, after he laid down the law to them, they ever afterward welcomed Padre Pio into the house, without insisting on demeaning restrictions.8
The “Mad Monk”
The people of Pietrelcina sensed that there was something extraordinary about Padre Pio. The curious would peer into his cabin to watch the “mad monk” take “the discipline” on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays in accordance with the practice of the Capuchins — thrashing himself with a whip in order to subdue his bodily passions. Even though his mother insisted on making his bed, Padre Pio would usually sleep on the ground with a rock for a pillow. Giuseppa complained to a relative who was a priest and lived nearby, and he called on Padre Pio, explaining that his refusal to sleep on the bed his mother prepared for him was a breach of the obedience he owed to her as a son. Thereafter, he slept on the bed.
During Mass, Padre Pio tended to take interminably long pauses, seemingly oblivious to his external surroundings, conversing with God and celestial beings. During the prayers for the living and the dead, he paused for an unconscionably long time, interceding for various souls. He seemed to perceive the spiritual state of certain people when he was in this state. Moreover, during the consecration, he seemed to identify so closely with Christ’s sufferings that at times he was barely able to speak the words of the liturgy. Masses that were supposed to last about half an hour were prolonged to more than two hours, leading many men to complain that Padre Pio was making them late to work. After a while, only old ladies were attending his Mass. Pannullo had to explain to Padre Pio that, although it was wonderful that he was having supernatural raptures during the Mass, he had to be considerate of the congregation, many of whom had other obligations.
After Mass, while making his prayer of thanksgiving, Padre Pio frequently went into ecstasy, just as he did at Venafro. Other priests were horrified when they found him in a state resembling death. In fact, one day the sacristan went to Pannullo to say he found Padre Pio dead in church. “No, he’s not dead,” said the archpriest. “Let him be. Ring the midday bell and go home.” Returning later that afternoon, the sacristan found Padre Pio still without signs of life. “Uncle Torey,” he told Pannullo, “this time the monk is dead. He’s really dead.” Still the archpriest was unconcerned: “I told you, don’t worry. He’ll revive.” Thereupon Pannullo went into the church and commanded Pio on his vow of obedience to revive — and he did.9 Padre Pio described his experience that day in a letter to Padre Agostino:
It seemed as if an invisible force was immersing my whole being into fire…. My God, what fire! What sweetness! I felt many of those transports of love, and for some time I remained as if out of this world…. Had this lasted a moment, nay, a second, longer, my soul would have been separated from my body and I would have gone to be with Jesus!10
At first, there were some who wondered if Padre Pio was insane. Gradually, however, they came to respect and revere him — not so much because of any miraculous occurrences, but because of his exemplary conduct and his love and concern for others.
Whenever Padre Pio passed the home of his old tutor, Don Domenico Tizzani, he would ask his wife and daughter, whom he frequently saw outside, to give his greetings to him. Tizzani, who had left the priesthood to marry, had become an unhappy recluse and refused to have anything to do with the clergy. When the archbishop of Benevento came to call on him, Tizzani refused to see him. One day, when Padre Pio asked Tizzani’s daughter about him, she said that her sixty-nine-year-old father was sick and close to death. When Padre Pio asked if he could visit, the daughter told him, “Certainly you can!” and led him into the house, calling out, “Daddy, Padre Pio is here!” Tizzani began to weep when he saw his old student. And, even though for years he had seemed to be hopelessly hardened, impenitent, and irreligious, he asked Padre Pio to hear his confession. He wept bitterly over his sins and committed himself to the mercy of Jesus. When Padre Pio told Pannullo what had happened, the archpriest was so overcome with joy that he fell to his knees, thanking the Lord. One day later, Tizzani died.
When walking back to town after celebrating Mass in neighboring villages, Padre Pio would always stop to talk to farmers in the field. Everyone found him friendly, concerned, and approachable, yet he wrote to Padre Benedetto:
Most of the time it gives me great pain to talk to anyone except those of whom God speaks to me…. Because of this, I am a great lover of solitude…. When I am passing the time of day and conversations are prolonged … and I cannot decently get away, I force myself to remain with the greatest of effort, since these conversations give me great pain.11
As a priest, Padre Pio was friendly, cheerful, polite, and witty — but basically serious. He would mince no words if he had reason to believe a parishioner was violating any of God’s commandments. But so effective was he at reaching people’s hearts that the townsfolk accepted rebukes they would often refuse to tolerate from other clergy.
For instance, Padre Pio was totally opposed to any labor whatsoever on the Sabbath, although he was not against wholesome play. He organized Sunday games for the townspeople so that they could have recreation and not think about breaking the Sabbath by doing work. His father, who returned to oversee the harvest, insisted that at harvesttime it was necessary to gather ripe wheat as quickly as possible, lest it be scorched by hot sun or beaten down in rainstorms. Surely, Orazio reasoned, God would not fault a man for working on Sunday to provide the necessities of life. Padre Pio disagreed. The Scriptures say: “Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor, and do all your work; but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God: in it you shall not do any work” (Ex 20:8–10). Was this not God’s word? Could there be any excuse for breaking it? Conceding that his son was right, Orazio skipped his Sunday labors and found that his crops were none the worse for it.
In town, near “The Tower” where Padre Pio stayed during the winter months, lived a woman by the name of Mariandreana Montella. One Sunday, coming from Mass at the new parish church, Padre Pio saw her sitting on her front steps, sewing a ribbon onto a dress. “‘Ndrianella,” he said sternly, “today is Sunday. Today no one must work.” ‘Ndrianella made it clear that she did not want to be bothered. Padre Pio, in a huff, went home and reappeared a few minutes later, armed with a pair of scissors. He seized the ribbon and cut it to pieces. The woman was so furious that, according to some accounts, she chased the priest down the street, but later she admitted doing wrong in laboring on the Sabbath.12
“Our Saint”
The people grew to love this strange, zealous priest, and soon some were calling him “our saint.” More and more people were attracted to his Masses, which, though he was trying to shorten them, still lasted far longer than customary. During Padre Pio’s Masses, they came to feel the presence of God in an uncanny way. They seemed to comprehend the mystery of the Cross as never before. Early on, it was agreed that if anyone had a special intention “the little friar who lives in the Castle and whom everybody considers a saint”13 should be sought out.
In April of 1912 or 1913, all the trees in the area were infested with lice and the fruit crop was threatened with ruin. One day “a simple peasant” approached Padre Pio and asked him to come with him to his field to bless the trees and curse the lice, and he consented. The peasant was amazed that within a short time all the lice fell to the ground. When they heard about this, farmers miles around begged Padre Pio to go through their fields, cursing the lice on their trees. It was claimed that the lice on all the trees died and that an excellent harvest ensued. Whatever natural explanations a scientist might offer, the Pietrelcinese were certain that a calamity had been avoided solely through the intercessions of their “little saint.”
In September 1912, Padre Agostino gained impressive evidence of the presence and activity of Padre Pio’s guardian angel. Agostino wrote Padre Pio a letter in Greek in order to keep its contents hidden from various local busybodies eager to read Padre Pio’s mail. Although Padre Pio had taken a course in Greek, the little he learned he had forgotten. Padre Agostino wrote, “What will your angel say about this? God willing, your angel will be able to make you understand it. If not, write me.”
Padre Pio took the letter to Pannullo, who understood Greek well. The archpriest later recounted, “Padre Pio … explained the contents to me, word for word.” When he asked Padre Pio how he could read and understand the letter, Padre Pio replied, “You know, Pati, my guardian angel has explained everything to me!”14
For several years, Padre Agostino sent some letters to Padre Pio in French, another language his friend did not know. Even so, Padre Pio had no trouble reading his friend’s letters and even once sent him a postcard entirely in French. He said that his “little angel” had told him what to write. The angel, however, must have been a poor student because a professor of French (the author’s aunt) who read the text of the postcard declared Padre Pio’s French abominable — even worse than Padre Agostino’s.
“Those Foul Creatures”
In November 1912, when Padre Agostino’s letters began arriving smeared with ink, Padre Pio suspected the handiwork of devils. At the suggestion of Pannullo, Padre Pio began placing a crucifix on the smudged letters. At once, “they became a little lighter, at least so that we could read them, even if with difficulty,” the archpriest noted.15
There are numerous stories concerning Padre Pio’s encounters at Piana Romana and in “The Tower” with demons in physical form. Several former neighbors swore that a demon (or demons) used to interfere with Padre Pio’s prayer and meditation at the Piana Romana by appearing in the form of a snake with an enormous head.
One night, neighbors heard terrible noises — crashes, bangs, and shouts — coming from Padre Pio’s apartment, and they complained to his parents. (Orazio seems to have returned home for good around 1912.) At first, they thought people were fighting. When they reached their son’s apartment to investigate, Orazio and Giuseppa found things strewn about the room and Padre Pio lying in a state of collapse. Seeing the disorder, they asked him with whom he had been fighting. “With those foul fiends,” Padre Pio replied.16
Many of the accounts of supernatural activity in Pietrelcina are from the testimony of people many years after the events. However, a letter that Padre Pio wrote to Padre Agostino on January 18, 1913, seems to corroborate the accounts of demonic activity in Padre Pio’s abode. He wrote that he heard a “diabolic noise” but “saw nothing at first.” Then a number of demons appeared “in the most abominable form” and “hurled themselves upon me and threw me on the floor, struck me violently, and threw pillows, books, and chairs through the air and cursed me with exceedingly filthy words. It is fortunate that the apartments beside me and below me are vacant.”17
It is obvious that Padre Pio was not using a metaphor for an inward temptation or a state of mind. He saw, heard, and apparently felt specific phenomena which, despite the vacancy of the adjoining apartments, were heard by neighbors several doors away.
A few days later, on February 13, 1913, he wrote to Padre Agostino, “My body is all bruised because of the many blows that our enemies have rained on me.” More than once, in the same month, he added, the demons snatched away his nightshirt and beat him while he shivered, stark naked, in the cold: “Even after they left me, I remained nude for a long time, for I was powerless to move because of the cold. Those evil creatures would have thrown themselves all over me if sweet Jesus hadn’t helped me.”18
Even after Padre Pio left Pietrelcina, “The Tower” was allegedly the site of apparent demonic activity. People claimed that in his room horrible noises could be heard from time to time, earthen pots spontaneously shattered, and chairs were thrown about by unseen forces. Michele (who did not return to Pietrelcina, at least for good, until 1919) reported these disturbing phenomena to his brother, now living in San Giovanni Rotondo, who told him that the apartment was still haunted by “those foul creatures” and directed him to summon a priest to perform an exorcism on the place. When this was done, there was no more trouble.
It is indisputable that there were phenomena associated with Padre Pio that cannot be readily explained. Many stories can be ascribed to hearsay, but for some there is good documentation. It would be a mistake to dismiss them all out of hand as legends and the figments of superstitious imaginations.
There is much about Padre Pio, especially concerning the supernatural aspect of his life, that will probably never be completely understood — especially if one wishes to exclude the possibility of it.