Padre Pio has been in the news here lately – or rather he’s been more in the news lately. The decision to exhume his body has caused no small amount of controversy, while historian Sergio Luzzatto has recieved more than his fair share of villification from the faithful thanks to the release of his book on Francesco Forgione (a.k.a Padre Pio) which suggests that Forgione’s stigmata were less a product of divine intervention than a judicious application of carbolic acid (bought secretly from a trusted pharmacist).
Saint Pio of Pietrelcina,as Forgione has become, is without doubt the most popular icon of the modern church in Italy. Travel around the south of the country, particularly in both his native Campania and Puglia, and you’ll see statues, paintings and dedications to him throughout. It’s not surprising then, that there is a tourist industry based entirely around the saint. A massive basilica, designed by Genoese architect Renzo Piano , has been built in the town where he preached, San Giovanni Rotondo in Puglia. A basilica that cost $35m – a basilica surrounded by gift shops and hotels for pilgrims.
Pio’s exhumation later this year, a standard procedure by the Catholic church (would it be blasphemous to suggest ‘routine maintenance’ is involved), will be followed by a period where the saint’s body will be on display – presumably attracting thousands of pilgrims. Anything to do with Padre Pio, for the faithful, is likely to stop the traffic.
Like the incedent releated, in today’s Venerdi supplement with La Repubblica, by journalist Giorgio Bocca. Bocca describes how, in the town of Caserta (at the centre of the controversy surrounding ex-minister for Justice Clemente Mastella and accusations of political interference in health-service appointments), traffic was stopped and chaos reigned when the face of Padre Pio emerged from the brickwork of a house in the middle of the town. Devotees of the Capuchin monk flocked to witness the miracle – delighted to see the face of their holy hero, even if it did bare some worrying similarities to a certain Argentinean Cuban revolutionary of a decidedly different parish.
The miracle was explained shortly after, when it was found that rain (containing God knows what, given the pollution problem in Campania) had washed the paintwork of the building, allowing a previous portrait of Che Guevara to emerge ‘miraculously’.
God works in wondrous ways…