St. Anthony, who was born in Lisbon, first entered religious life as an Augustinian canon in Coimbra. There one day he met a group of visiting Franciscans (St. Be- rard and his companions) on their way to Morocco. He was greatly impressed by these courageous missionaries, the more so when news came of their subsequent martyrdom, followed by the return of their remains by way of his monastery. At once, he was inspired to join the Franciscans. He was accepted and was even granted his wish to follow in the footsteps of the martyrs. But no sooner had he arrived in Morocco than he became so ill that he was forced to turn around.
In 1221, he attended—along with three thousand other friars—a great Franciscan gathering, the last held in the lifetime of St. Francis. Afterward, he received a lowly assignment to a small hospice for lay brothers at Monte Paolo.
But soon his star would shine. At an important occasion, where the preacher failed to arrive, Anthony was asked to extemporize. He astonished his audience with the unexpected elegance, conviction, and profound learning of his sermon. Word quickly spread, and Anthony received a letter from Francis himself autho- rizing him to preach and to teach theology to the friars.
…he was unsparing when it came to the failings of the clergy and worldly bishops, whom he called “the most impudent dogs, having a harlot’s forehead, refusing to blush.
Eventually, he was sent on a preaching mission that covered all of Italy. Thousands flocked to hear his open-air sermons, and his visits had the impact of a spiritual revival. He attacked the tyranny of the powerful, exhorting his listeners to compassion and charity toward the poor, and he was unsparing when it came to the failings of the clergy and worldly bishops, whom he called “the most impudent dogs, having a harlot’s forehead, refusing to blush.” So successful were his exhortations to charity that he earned the title “Friend of the Poor.”
Anthony died on June 13, 1231, at the age of thirty-six. He was buried in Padua, where he had spent his last years, and his canonization followed only a year later. In 1946, Pope Pius XII declared him a Doctor of the Church. (Popularly, he is often invoked for his help in locating lost objects.)
Matt Talbot was one of twelve children born to a poor family in Dublin. His addiction to alcohol began at twelve, when he got his first job with a wine merchant. Before long, drink had become the primary focus of his life. All the wages he earned carrying bricks went to support his addiction. What funds he lacked, he begged, borrowed, or stole.
This lasted until the age of twenty-eight, when he was overcome with disgust for his life. Entering a church, he made his confession and took the pledge of abstinence for three months. His mother had cautioned him: “Go, in God’s name, but don’t take it unless you are going to keep it.” Those first three months were agonizing. At one point he collapsed on the steps of a church, in despair at the thought of breaking his oath. But he kept at it, renewed it for another three months, and thus, by constant vigilance, remained sober for the next forty-one years.
From the point that he took the pledge, the focus of his life shifted dramatically. He became a Franciscan tertiary, attended daily Mass, ate sparingly, prayed half the night, and gave generously to charity. (He never carried money with him – always fearful of the temptation to step into a pub.)
On June 7, 1925, Talbot collapsed in the street and died. It was discovered that his body was wrapped in penitential chains, which were buried with him. His cause of canonization was soon opened, and in 1975 he was declared venerable. He is the patron of alcoholics.
Mariano was born to a peasant family in Roccacasale in Italy. One day, tired and thirsty while caring for his sheep on a rugged hillside, he fell asleep and had a dream in which a Franciscan friar showed him where to find water. When he awoke, he removed a stone beneath his head, untapping a vigorous stream, which runs to this day.
When he was twenty-three, he joined a Franciscan community in Arisquia, where he remained for twelve years, dividing his time between prayer and simple labor. But he felt something was lacking. Eventually he received permission from his community to visit Bellagra, where many holy friars had established hermitages. He ended up remaining there for the next forty-years, serving as doorkeeper – an office that afforded opportunities to greet pilgrims, travellers, and the poor who made their way to his door. Welcoming each guest with the Franciscan greeting, “Peace and Good,” he would offer food, a place to rest, and his own spiritual counsel. This was his path to holiness.
He died on May 31, 1866. He was beatified in 1999.
Camilla Varano was the daughter of a powerful Italian prince and his mistress. Raised by the father and his lawful wife, she was groomed for a life in this highest circles of society. For many years she embraced this world of “music, dancing, dress, and other worldly amusements.” She could “not bear” the sight of monks or nuns. Then one day she heard a sermon that hit her like a thunderbolt. In response to prayer she received the gift of “three lilies”: hatred of the world, a sense of unworthiness, and a willingness to suffer. Gradually she found herself attracted to religious life.
Her father did everything he could to thwart her vocation – even to the point of locking her up. But after two years, when she was twenty-three, he relented and allowed her to enter the Poor Clares, where she took the name Baptista. She likened the experience to crossing the Red Sea to escape from slavery under Pharoah.
In the newfound freedom of the cloister, Baptista began to experience vivid mystical visions, including colloquies with St. Clare. In another case, two winged angels held her aloft to contemplate the bleeding feet of Christ on the cross. She composed several books describing the inner suffering of Christ, as well as offering spiritual instructions.
Baptista died on May 31, 1524, and was canonized in 2010.
