The Spear (2024)

07/09/2023

THE REAL PRESENCE

I wanted to share with you a story I heard at Mass today, the Feast of Corpus Christi (which means the Body and Blood of Christ). When we went to Holy Rosary Church, in Portland for a special Latin Mass During the homily, the priest told an interesting story of Pope John Paul Il's visit to the Baltimore area in 1995. The Pope was scheduled for a quick trip to the local Seminary Even though it was not scheduled, he wanted to go in to their chapel to pray. So a security team and German Shepherd canine unit that was especially trained to find human beings, using their superior sense of smell (like the ones used after the Sept. 11 attack to find people in the rubble), were sent in to search for any people that may be hiding in the various rooms. They searched the halls and rooms and found nothing, and then were sent into the chapel where the Pope intended to pray. They sniffed in all the aisles, and then came to the Tabernacle which held the consecrated Hosts. The dogs sniffed and pointed, indicating that they sensed a human being present in the holy Tabernacle, and would not leave until handlers called them off. This was witnessed by over 10 security people.
- John Lovegrove from Port Macquarie, N.S.W.

30/08/2023

MY GUARDIAN ANGEL HEARD ME.

by Fr.O.W.

Waldemar was a typical young fellow of his age: rough and ready, saucy, a daredevil, lax and negligent about going to church; on the other hand, very zealous about playing cards on Sunday afternoons when he sat merrily drinking beer with his friends, usually until late at night. His parents didn't especially want to complain, since he was loving and attentive to them, gladly helped with all the work and regularly surrendered to them most of his weekly salary.

Nevertheless, they were concerned about him. Frequently he would return home late at night, in a drunken state. He was a clever card player and amused himself usually at the expense of others. His parents were not impressed with his long stay in taverns and his frivolous companions were not exactly a blessing for their son.

He had a job at the nearby iron ore mine, which brought in a very nice salary, but was also very dangerous. Again and again his concerned mother had impressed upon Waldemar:

"Don't ever forget before you go down the shaft to call on your Guardian Angel; he will be sure to protect you!"

At first he never omitted doing that, because every time he went down into that dark abyss he shuddered. But soon he was no longer afraid, and the Guardian Angel prayer was smothered by little jokes, and eventually omitted altogether. So two years had passed, when one day his parents suddenly received the call: "Your son has been taken to the hospital badly wounded!" Filled with anxiety they hurried to him and the expressions on the faces of the doctor and the nurses told them plainly: "Hopeless!

It was a miracle that he was still alive! His head had been somewhat spared, but his entire body had been badly crushed by the falling rock.

When his mother went over to his bed and took his feverish hand in hers, she saw in his distorted features that he must be enduring terrible pain. She bent over him to speak a few loving, comforting words to him, when she heard him say: "Mother, for a long time I haven't been praying to my Guardian Angel any more the way you always urged me to! That is why this misfortune has struck me."

He moaned painfully and then continued: "But l'II make up for it, Mother. My Guardian Angel will help me to die well!" Pale and weak, he closed his eyes, but his mother saw that his lips were moving quietly and he was praying.

The sufferings of the poor boy were to last three weeks longer; he suffered a veritable martyrdom. His comfort was the Saviour in Holy Communion and daily prayer. His parents, and his brothers and sisters visited him every day, and each time they noticed that the face of Waldemar, in spite of all the pain he had to endure, took on a quieter and brighter expression. Unfortunately in his last days the priest was not able to give him Holy Communion because he could not retain the least thing in his stomach. This was the most painful sacrifice of all.

The morning of his death dawned. When the nurse stepped up to his bed early in the morning, Waldemar begged her: "Nurse, Let me receive the Saviour once more in Holy Communion!"

It broke the nurse's heart to have to refuse his request, but he begged even more: "Please nurse, fulfill my last request! Please! l've prayed to my Guardian Angel and he will certainly see to it that everything will go well!"

Deeply moved, the nurse consulted the priest, who could not resist such a fervent plea. And everything did go well!

An incredible joy and bliss was on his features, when shortly afterwards his parents, his brothers and sisters came to visit for the last time. With bright eyes he looked up at his mother once more. Moved by deep suffering she grasped his hands that were already cold.

Waldemar breathed forth the words: "Now I am fine, Mother! My Guardian Angel heard me! I was allowed to receive the Saviour once more this morning!"

A few moments more and Waldemar had peacefully fallen asleep in the Lord with an ecstatic glow of joy still on his countenance.

(Translated from the German)
- Ave Maria Oct 03.

08/08/2023

I promise, Our Lady will bring you all back safe to Canada.

It was a busy day in March. As teacher-principal in the 1950's, had to make sure that each day provided the time for two separate roles. On that March 4th, an incident between a teacher and a parent had kept me out of my class for almost an hour that morning, so for the rest of the day was desperately trying to make up class time. Hence, the knock on my door at 2 pm was not welcome. With relief, I found it was only a salesman who needed my signature and even produced his own pen. As he did so, his rosary had caught on the pen's clip and came out as well. l signed as I said indifferently: "So, you are a Catholic?"

"Oh no," he said, "but a lot of us owe our lives to Our Lady, and I promised Her I would always keep my rosary with me, and say it every day."

Twenty minutes later I was still listening, fascinated, to the account of one of the wonderful experiences a group of airmen had had with Our Lady. My visitor hesitated to start for he had noticed my "not welcome" opening of the door. But eager now to hear his story, I assured him that the class was doing an exercise and begged he proceed.

"It was May 1940," he said, "and we had joined the air force in late September. At Halifax we were given an intensive training course because they needed us overseas and to us young lads, the whole program was exciting. We were grouped into squadrons, each of which consisted of six men to 10 planes, and each was trained to maneuver as a unit. Therefore, about 30 to 50 men made up a squadron, along with the squadron leader who gave all the orders and kept the group functioning in unity.

"In May, our squadron was told we were going overseas and would be in action at once. We would work nightly missions over enemy territory until the war was over.

"We were waiting for our new squadron leader, due to arrive in two days on a 9pm air force flight. Being an officer, he would, we thought, go at once to the Officer's quarters. We watched the plane, glimpsed him from the distance and resigned our- selves to waiting until the next day to 'size him up.' A couple of hours later, this squadron leader, Stan Fulton, in full uniform, entered our bunk house. "Well men, we're going to spend some dangerous hours together, but let's hope we all meet back here when it's over. Ah, there's a free bunk and I'm tired! I'II meet each of you tomorrow!" "With that, he threw his bag up on an upper bunk. Our squadron leader, an officer, sleeping here with us! We liked him at once and our liking and our admiration grew each day.
That first night he knelt on the floor and prayed the rosary in silence. Astounded, we were struck dumb. When he finished he looked at us with his friendly smile and said: 'l hope you guys don't mind a fellow saying some prayers, cos' where we're going we're going to need them.' "The next day our maneuver practice, under his command, assured us that Fulton was not just our military leader, but also our friend. He was one of us; he never tried to intimidate us with his rank.

"That night he repeated his prayer session. Although our group had trained together for 6 months at least, I had never seen anyone kneel in prayer, and had no idea that any of our group were Catholic, but the third night three of our companions joined Fulton in saying the rosary. The rest of us did not understand but we kept a respectful silence. A few nights later, we were quick learners, we all answered the Hail Mary and the Our Father. Fulton looked pleased, and thus we ended each day in prayer. "On June 1, 1940, we were to leave Halifax to begin a series of night raids from England over Germany. The evening before, Fulton gave each of us a rosary. We shall be in some tight situations but then, if you agree, we’ll say the rosary. If you will promise to keep the rosary with you always throughout your life and say it, I can promise you that Our Lady will bring you all back safe to Canada.' "We answered, 'Sure thing.' Little did we dream we would be in action for 4 years, many times in dreadful danger with fire all around us. At such times, Fulton's voice would ring through each plane, 'Hail Mary' and how reverently and sincerely did we respond! How many hundreds of rosaries we must have said. After two years it was noted that ours was the only squadron that had not lost a plane or a single life. We said nothing, but we knew!

"Finally, the terrible war was over. During those years, we lost all sense of excitement and adventure. AII that concerned us was survival! We did survive, too. All returned to Canada in 1945, fully convinced that Our Lady had taken care of us.
So l never forget to keep my rosary with me and say it every day, although I am not a Catholic. When I change my trousers, the first thing I transfer, even before my wallet, is my rosary.

"And where is this squadron leader now?" I asked.

"Stan Fulton? He had some business to settle in England right after the war. Besides, he had married a beautiful Scottish girl and needed her papers to bring her back to Canada.

"Just before leaving England, the British Government sent him to Paris on some business. On his flight back to London, a heavy log came up. He crashed into a cliff and was killed, but I think Our lady was waiting for him.

-Ave Maria Oct 2003.

30/07/2023

OUR LADY IN A DEATH CELL

The judge was now solemnly putting on his black cap which announced that he was about to pass the sentence of death. It seemed as if all Sydney was suddenly silent and the only sound was the words of the judge, which came clear and final:
"It is the sentence of this court that on a day and date to be fixed, you, Digby Grand and Henry Jones, should be hanged by the neck until you are dead. And may God have mercy on your souls!"

That sentence was passed at the Central Criminal Court, Sydney, Australia on April 6, 1903. The condemned men had been found guilty of the murder of a police constable who on the night of January 18, 1903, had disturbed them as they were robbing the Royal Hotel in the Sydney suburb of Auburn. They had been arrested, tried and convicted.

Back in Darlinghurst Gaol, the condemned men were to wait three months before the death sentence was actually carried out. Neither of them had practiced any religion. In the next 92 days they had nothing to look forward to but death. They were asked if they wished to be visited by a minister of religion. They replied they had no interest in religion.

As the weeks went past, one of the two, Henry Jones, began to think of another time when he had been in gaol, at Bathurst, some years previously. He remembered some of the other prisoners on that occasion talking of the kindness of a Catholic priest who used to visit the gaol. His name was Fr.McGee. Perhaps Fr.McGee could do something for him. After all, in his present state, he was just going to die like a dog, and as the days went by he thought more about the Catholic priest. Should he?

The following Saturday night, Fr.McGee was called out of the Confessional in Bathurst Cathedral. He was wanted urgently. One of the condemned murderers in Sydney wanted to see him. He left by train that very night for Sydney and Darlinghurst Gaol.

The meeting between the priest and condemned man did not go too well. Fr. McGee began to teach Henry Jones a few simple prayers and to instruct him in religion. But his talks made no impression on the condemned man till the priest came to speak about Our Lady. At this point, Jones looked up and began to listen intently. When Fr.McGee had finished speaking, Jones asked "'Did you say that the Blessed Virgin has a personal love in Her heart for everyone?" "Yes, for everyone", answered the priest. Then the poor outcast from society hesitantly asked: "Father, do you think She would still have a place in Her heart for me?" "Yes, She loves you intensely," came the reply. The condemned man thought for a while, then said: "Why didn't someone tell me about Our Lady before? Had I known her before, I would not have lead the life I did lead." After that, Jones decided to become a Catholic. He seemed intrigued by the goodness of Mary, and he kept asking to be told more about Our Lady. Henry Jones was received into the Catholic Church and made his first Confession the night before his ex*****on. That night he rose off his knees, his soul purified of every sin and every stain. Through the power of Jesus Christ, his soul was now guiltless.

Early the next morning, Archbishop Kelly, the Coadjutor Archbishop of Sydney, came to Darlinghurst Gaol, just for the sake of the one lost sheep who had returned.

The Archbishop said Holy Mass in the condemned man's cell and gave Henry Jones his First and last Holy Communion. After the Mass, the Archbishop conferred the Sacrament of Confirmation on him.

An hour later, Henry Jones was hanged.

Right up to the end he kept praying to Our Lady to intercede for him with Her Divine Son, Whom he had so greatly offended. His only regret was that he had not known Mary until the last few days of his life.

As he walked from the cell to the scaffold, the prayer on his lips was the "Hail Holy Queen." His last words were, ... turn then, o most gracious advocate, Thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this our exile, show unto us, the blessed fruit of Thy womb, Jesus ... o sweet Virgin Mary.

- From CONTACT magazine: For this article we are indebted to the late Monsignor T.J. Morris, P.O. Smithtown, NSW and to the New South Wales Police Commissioner.)

23/07/2023

THE CHALLENGE TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS

From all eternity you have been in the thought and love of God. You have been loved with an eternal love. Here is a particularly striking example: God assures us Himself: "l have loved you with an everlasting love, therefore have I drawn you, taking pity" (Jeremias God ###I, I3.)

Of my earliest childhood, related a pilgrim to Paray-le-Monial (Paris). There remains only very vague memories. However, I still see a large picture which hung above the statue of the Blessed Virgin, and before which my mother would say to me: "Jesus is watching you, and if you don't behave, He will expel you from His heart." The evening after my First Holy Communion, when, as was our custom, we knelt for family prayer, I fervently promised Jesus to love Him forever; in return, I asked Him to keep watch over my heart.
But alas! Passions soon flared up. At 21 years of age I was one of the most debauched youths of my neighbourhood. I was a soldier and God knows what a life l led. I was reduced to being a wandering labourer, looking for work from town to town. l had descended into the lowest degree of impiety; I have dragged myself through the filth of passions.
Paray-le-Monial, so it happened, was on my way. The town was celebrating a Feast. Surprised, I asked a poor woman; "What is going on?"
"What! Haven't you heard? It is the great pilgrimage from ....
"Ah! What pilgrimage? What for?"
"Why to honour the Sacred Heart of Jesus."
"Jesus' Heart! Where is it? Can it be seen?"
"Of course not; the truth is, that Jesus appeared to a religious sister of the Visitation Order, Saint Margaret Mary, and He requested of her to have His Heart honoured by all men."
"Where is this Visitation?" And following the beggar-woman's directions, I headed on the way. I wanted to enter the chapel. It was filled to bursting. While I was waiting for the crowd to circulate, I looked around me, not thinking of anything in particular. My eyes were attracted by large white signs which inscriptions were etched in red letters. I read: THE PROMISES OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST TO SAINT MARGARET MARY. I looked from one sign to another. There were phrases absolutely devoid of meaning for me, words of which I understood nothing: GRACE, FERVOUR, MERCY, LUKEWARMNESS, and PERFECTION?

But all of a sudden, one line struck me: "I SHALL GIVE TO PRIESTS THE GIFT OF TOUCHING THE MOST HARDENED HEARTS." AII my impiety seized me. To touch the most hardened hearts; that's what they wrote! Well then, we’ll see… Why not give it a try? Let's take them at their word and I’ll ask for a priest. What word could possibly be inspired by him to touch a heart as hardened as mine? And I sneered derisively, beating my breast, at the same moment a Sister passed by me, to whom I said bluntly as I turned: "l would like to speak to a priest, a priest from Paray-le-Monial." She showed me into a small room whose whitewashed walls bore inscriptions in black; I didn't pay any attention to them, for I had my renowned sentence ready like an invincible weapon to discourage all the pilgrims of the world, and repeated laughingly: "l SHALL GIVE TO PRIESTS THE GIFT OF MOVING THE MOST HARDENED HEARTS" What could a priest possibly say to me! Soon a priest came in. He looked at me, waiting for me to speak to him. But I had only impiety and irony in my whole being, and yet a slight shudder seized me. The priest noticed it.

"Well, my friend?" he said to me. That sole word stirred up all my arrogance. "Your friend? Ah! You don't know me! I haven't the faith. Call me excommunicated, unbeliever, pagan, whatever you like, but not your friend. Save that for others!" I spoke for a long while in the same tone. The phrase read on the sign resounded in my ears. What could he say to me? The priest became pale, but showed no sign of indignation. Without answering my impious remarks, he asked a lot of questions. I laughed. He saw, but didn't understand my shaking my head in answer to all his questions, which meant: "That's not it! I won the match!" I was about to burst out laughing, when suddenly.
Ah! I still shudder. "My friend, have you still a mother?" asked the priest. My dear God! What a reaction occurred within me! My heart, tears gushed, my whole body trembled. "My mother ... You speak to me of my mother! But it's true! The Sacred Heart of Jesus! Oh, I see the picture before which I would kneel as a child, beside my mother!"
I reread in my thoughts those lines where her dying hand had written to me, to which I had scarcely paid attention: My child, I write to you from my deathbed: I am dying of the grief you have caused me, but I don't condemn you, because I have always hoped that the Sacred Heart of Jesus might convert you'
"Oh, my mother ...! You see, Father, I had read at the entrance to the chapel that the Heart of Jesus would give priests the ability to touch the most hardened hearts. I came to find out what you could tell me, to make fun of you. I feel that you have converted me."
The priest fell to his knees. He prayed and wept. When I went into the sanctuary, it was to kneel at a confessional and a few days later I went to receive the Body of Christ in the Holy Eucharist.
O priests, love the Sacred Heart and you will convert souls
O mothers who weep over the straying of your sons and daughters, pray for them to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
- Monastere St.Joseph, de Clairval, France
- Ave Maria – Roma Martino

09/07/2023

THE DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH

Every September 23, the Catholic Church celebrates the feast day of St. Padre Pio. This holy Capuchin priest from Pietrelcina, Italy was widely known for his supernatural gifts of bi-location, reading souls and the bodily marks of Christ, better known as stigmatas. What may be less known, however, was the debt he was willing to pay in order to save souls.
As one being baptized in Christ’s death, he willingly suffered as a victim priest for sinners. Indeed, Jesus did not die on the Cross to exempt us from redemptive suffering; on the contrary, His Passion enabled us to participate in it. This truth is confirmed by St. Peter who wrote: “Love covers a multitude of sins” and that “for whoever suffers in the flesh has broken with sin.” (I Peter 4:1,8) It was this kind of love and sacrifice that made St. Pio’s ministry so fruitful. His biography contains a long litany of stories which convey profound lessons for life’s spiritual journey.
One such story took place before St. Pio became a priest in 1905. At the time he was a divinity student at Sant’ Elia a Piansi. While in a choir at church, at 11:00 p.m. at night, he was mystically transported to an enormous house looking much like a mansion. In this house was Giovanni Battista Rizzani, a man who was on his deathbed. His wife, Leonilde Rizzani, who was eight months pregnant, was at his bedside but was unaware that she was about to give birth prematurely to a baby girl. As a committed Mason and opponent of Christianity, Giovanni had his friends stationed outside his house so as to prevent any priest from coming in. He knew that his wife, a devout Catholic, wanted him to receive Last Rites. Sure enough, a priest soon arrived at the house but was unable to get in thanks to the efforts of Giovanni’s friends. Matters went from bad to worse when Leonilde went into labor and gave birth to a baby girl named, Giovanna.
It was during this time the Blessed Virgin appeared to St. Padre Pio (miles away from the mansion) in order to brief him about his mission in this regard. She said: “I am entrusting this child to you. Now she is a diamond in the rough, but I want you to work with her, polish her, and make her as shinning as possible, because one day I wish to adorn myself with her.”
St. Pio simply asked, “How is this possible?” He reasoned that he was not a priest yet (out of his humility, he did not presume he would be a priest). Also, at the time, the Rizzani family lived some 350 miles away. Needless to say, the young Pio couldn’t see how he could possibly carry out this mission. Nevertheless, the Madonna simply replied, “Do not doubt. She will come to you at St. Peter’s Basilica.”
"Do not doubt!" St. Pio would have to learn this lesson time and time again- as we all do. The circumstances which daily press upon us and the difficult circumstances which demand recognition may seem meaningless and even an obstacle to what God has called us to. Still, heaven bids us “not to doubt.” We are to trust that Divine Providence brings order out of disorder, meaning from what seems meaningless and interior joy out of painful circumstances. St. Padre Pio would later say we are like little children who, while sitting on the floor, look up at the bottom of the embroider our mother is working on. From the bottom view, the embroider is full of uneven threads and knots. But from the top view, however, a beautiful design is emerging; one that is pleasing to the eye.
Back to the mansion: The priest waiting outside managed to convince Giovanni’s friends that he should at least be able to baptize the newly born Giovanna. As the priest entered the home, Giovanni, the unbelieving Mason, was breathing his last. But before he died he asked God for forgiveness. Several years later, St. Pio would tell Giovanna that her father’s soul was saved through the intercession of Mary.
Fast forward to 1922. Leonilde had moved to Rome with her children. Giovanna was seventeen or eighteen at the time. In high school, Giovanna’s teachers had sown some seeds of doubt in her mind about the Holy Trinity. She was troubled by this, so she went to confession at St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. However, confessions had just ended and the security personnel were trying to usher the people out of the basilica. Giovanna was told to go home. Nonetheless, a voice from within one of the confessionals said that he would hear her confession. She then confessed her sins and the doubts she entertained about the Trinity were dispelled by the confessor. Giovanna, inspired by the good counsel she received, wanted to wait for the priest who, she thought, was still in the confessional so she could have a word with him. At this point, the security personnel were growing more irritated with Giovanna because she had not left yet. After expressing her wish to talk with the confessor, one of the guards opened the confessional curtain and said to her, “See, no one is there.” Indeed, it was true. The confessional was empty.
A year later in 1923, Giovanna, her aunt, and several friends of hers wanted to go see St. Padre Pio in San Giovanni Rotondo. At this point, Giovanna did not know much about the holy priest. The following account is taken from the book, "Padre Pio: The True Story" by C. Bernard Ruffin:
It was late afternoon when, standing in the crowd of people in the sacristy of the church, Giovanna caught her first glimpse of Padre Pio. To her amazement, he came right up to her and extended his hand for her to kiss, exclaiming, “Why, Giovanna! I know you! You were born the day your father died.” She did not know what to say. The next day, after hearing her confession, Padre Pio said to her, "At last you have come to me, my dear child. I have been waiting for you for so many years." Giovanna replied, "Perhaps you’re mistaken and have confused me with some other girl.”
Padre Pio assured her by saying, “No, I am not mistaken. I knew you before…Last summer, one summer afternoon, you went with a friend to St. Peter’s Basilica and you made your confession before a Capuchin priest. Do you remember?”
“Yes, Father I do.” “Well," Padre Pio replied, "I was that Capuchin!”
Padre Pio went on to explain, “Dear child, listen to me. When you were about to come into the world, the Madonna carried me away to Udine to your mansion. She had me assist at the death of your father, telling me: ‘See, in this very room a man is dying. He is the head of a family. He is saved through the tears and prayers [italics added] of his wife and through my intercession. The wife of the dying man is about to give birth to a child. I entrust this child to you.’ Padre Pio concluded by insisting, ‘And now let me take care of your soul, as the heavenly Lady desires.’”
Giovanna burst into tears and asked Padre Pio, “Tell me, what I must do? Shall I become a nun?” “By no means,” he said. “You will come often to San Giovanni Rotondo. I will take charge of your soul, and you will know the will of God.”

- Catholic News Agency

25/06/2023

CALL OF HELP FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE.

Father Phillip Schoofs, of the Company of Jesus, who died in Louvain in 1878, related the following, which happened in Antwerp during the first years of his ministry in that city.
He had just preached a mission and had returned to the College of Notre Dame, then situated in the Rue I’Emprereu; when he was told that someone asked for him in the parlor. Descending immediately, he found there, two young men with a pale and sickly child of about 10 years-old.
“Father,” said they, “Here is a poor child that we have adopted, and who deserves our protection because he is good and pious. We feed and educate him and, for more than a year that he has formed part of our family, he has been happy and enjoyed good health. It is only for the last few weeks that he has commenced to grow thin and pine away, as you now see him.
“What is the cause of this?” asked the priest. “It is fright,” they replied. “The child is awakened every night by apparitions. A man, he assures us, presents himself before him, and he sees him as distinctly as he sees us in full daylight. This is the cause of his continual fear and uneasiness. We come Father, to ask you some remedy.
“My friends,” replied Father Schoofs, “with God there is a remedy for all things. Begin both of you, by making a good Confession and Holy Communion, beg God to deliver you from all evil, and fear nothing.
“As for you child, say your prayers well, then sleep so soundly that no ghost can awake you.”
He then dismissed them, telling them to return in case anything more should happen. Two weeks passed, and they again returned.
“Father,” said they, “WE have followed your orders, and yet the apparitions continue as before. The child always sees the same man appear.”
“From this evening,“ said Father Schoofs, “Watch at the door of the child’s room, provided with paper and ink with which to write answers, When he warns you of the presence of the man, ask in the name of God who he is, the time of his death, where he lived and why he returns.”
The following day, they returned carrying the paper on which was written the answers which they had received. “We saw,” they said, “the man that appears to the child.”
They described him as an old man, of whom they could but see the bust, and he wore a costume of olden times. He told them his name and the house in which he had dwelt in Antwerp. He had died in 1636, had followed the profession of a banker in the same house. Which in his time comprised the two houses which today may be seen as situated to the left and the right of it. Let us remark here that certain documents which prove the accuracy of these indications have since been discovered in the archives of the city of Antwerp. He added, that he was in Purgatory, and that few prayers had been said for him. He then begged the persons of the house to offer Holy Mass and Holy Communion for him, and finally asked that a pilgrimage might be made for him to Notre Dame des Fievres, and another to Notre Dame de la Chapelle in Brussels.
“You will do well to comply with all these request,” said Father Scoofs, “and if the spirit returns, before speaking to him, require him to say the Our Father, Hail Mary and the Creed.”
The young men accomplished the good works indicated, and then returned. “Father, he prayed,” they said, “but in a tone of indescribable faith and piety, we never heard anyone pray like it. What reverence in the Our Father! What love in the Hail Mary! What fervor in the I Believe! Now we know what it is to pray. Then the man thanked us for our prayers… “
“Since that day” adds Father Schoofs, “that house has never been troubled again.”
- Ave Maria (Roma Martino)

The Spear

07/09/2023

30/08/2023

08/08/2023

30/07/2023

23/07/2023

09/07/2023

25/06/2023

Address

Website

Alerts

Shortcuts

Share