A Parish Handbook of the Saints
My dear family of St. Pius X and St. Leonard,
The moment is upon us to discern a new parish patron whose name will stand as the official name of our unified parish. I think this is really a special moment in the history of our parish because it builds beautifully upon our history and legacy while also giving us the opportunity to chart a course for the future. Parish names have always been important in Chicago. Chicago families for generations have used their parish as one of the markers of their identity and geography, and even in our increasingly secular age, we still desire for our Churches to become centers for transformation and for community. What happens on our campuses each day is life-changing for people, and we want future generations to remember the name of their parish with gratitude because of the mighty things God has done for them here. Our two campuses, as well as the church buildings will retain their historic names (St. Pius X and St. Leonard) as a recognition of the significant impact that these places have had on our community over the last nearly hundred years. But July 1, 2022, the day our parishes were united, birthed something new in the life of the Catholic Church in Stickney and Berwyn. As we look to the future, we place that new thing, together with its mission, under the protection and intercession of the saints, and strive to follow their example in seeking holiness.
In the last six months, I’ve gathered feedback from different parish groups and leaders and solicited some ideas around the naming of the parish. Last month, we offered a Lenten retreat to spark our conversation in earnest and I proposed a handful of saint names and their stories to get us started on the path. Over the Easter holiday, we gathered additional nominations from the broader parish community of other saints that we might consider. We brought all those names to our unification team and to our staff, tested some of the stories with our kids from school and religious education programs, and arrived at a final list of six names that we’d like to propose for final consideration. Once we’ve arrived at our top three proposals, we will submit those to Cardinal Cupich and the presbyteral council. After they’ve had the opportunity to converse, they will arrive at a final decision and inform us of our new name.
Though change is hard, it can also be exciting. I hope the prospect of falling in love with another faithful witness to Jesus Christ, the closeness that we can feel to another friend of God during our walk toward heaven, and the chance to have yet another intercessor for our parish and our families is as exciting for you as it is for me. Please pray for this process, and ask the whole communion of Saints, together with the Holy Spirit, to gently guide us to more perfectly fulfill God’s will.
Pastor, Fr. Bobby Krueger
Prayer to the Holy Spirit for Guidance in our New Name:
Come, Holy Spirit. You impelled Abram to go forth from his native land to a new place, bestowing on him the new name “Abraham” so that he would become the father of a multitude. As Sarai was docile to your movements and welcomed Isaac, the son of the promise, you changed her name to Sarah to reflect her new mission as mother. You inspired in Simon the great confession of faith in Jesus as the Christ that would earn him the new name Peter and establish him as the rock of the Church. And you filled the great persecutor Saul with the grace of conversion such that he would be forever known to Christian history as Paul, the great Apostle, consumed always by a zealous love for Christ. Come to us now, O Holy Spirit, and guide our steps as we discern the name and the parish patron saint that God desires for our parish family. Help us to hear in the witness of the saints the thirst for divine love that will inspire us and future generations to the robust pursuit of holiness. Open us to their heavenly intercession, and lead us to the one whose name we will carry as a community. We entrust this special cause to you as you inspire our Cardinal Archbishop to call us to a new mission in giving us a new name, and humbly surrender ourselves to your Divine Plan. Send forth your Spirit and we shall be created, and you shall renew the face of the earth.
~ Help us discern our new name. Cast your vote here! ~
"During the time immediately before and quite some time after my conversion ... I thought that leading a religious life meant giving up all earthly things and having one's mind fixed on divine things only. Gradually, however, I learnt that other things are expected of us in this world... I even believe that the deeper someone is drawn to God, the more he has to `get beyond himself' in this sense, that is, go into the world and carry divine life into it.”
What’s her story?
Edith Stein was born to a Jewish family in Germany in 1891. By her teenage years, she had begun to distance herself from faith and religion, ultimately considering herself an atheist. However, Edith demonstrated an impressive capacity for critical thinking and eventually took up the study of philosophy. She studied under the most impressive teachers at the time; famous German philosophers like Max Scheler and Edmund Husserl. Edith was distinguished for her brilliance and carved herself a space in the academic field which in her time was exclusively dominated by men. She was fascinated by the dignity of women and wrote extensively on the topic. Edith’s writings have deeply influenced a renewed vision of feminism even today.
Edith Stein’s curiosity about faith was rekindled when she saw a woman, coming from market, rush into the Frankfurt Cathedral for a short visit to the Blessed Sacrament. “This was something new for me,” she wrote, noticing that the woman was “coming straight from the busy marketplace into this empty church, as if she were going to have an intimate conversation. It was something I never forgot.” Years later, while at a dinner party with friends, she stayed up all night reading in a corner, enthralled by the autobiography of St. Theresa of Avila. When she concluded the book the next morning, she muttered to herself, “This is the truth,” and a year later was baptized into the Catholic Faith.
Edith Stein spent the next decade teaching in schools, lecturing on women’s issues, and working to secure a university teaching position; all the while longing to enter a Carmelite monastery and devote her life to prayer. When, in 1933, the Nazi’s rise to power prohibited her from teaching because of her Jewish roots, she took the moment as the divinely ordained time to enter religious life. She entered the Carmelite Convent in Cologne, Germany in 1933 and was given the religious name Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. Her contemplation of the mystery of Christ’s suffering on the Cross would deeply mark her religious life. By 1938, Nazi aggression against the Jews became so overt that Sr. Teresa’s superiors transferred her across the German border to the Carmelite Monastery in Echt, Netherlands. When the Nazis gained power in the Netherlands, the Dutch bishops decried the violence against Jews, and the Nazis increased their persecution in retaliation. Edith Stein was dragged from the chapel and arrested by the Gestapo in 1942, along with her blood sister who had also become a nun. As Edith was carried away, she was overheard to say “Come, we are going for our people.” St. Edith Stein perished in the gas chambers of Auschwitz on August 9, 1942. She was canonized in 1998 by St. John Paul II.
Why she’s awesome?
St. Edith Stein is a compelling example of a woman passionately searching for truth, moving gently along the spectrum from atheism to faith. She was a trailblazer in securing a higher social standing for women in her age and her insights are increasingly timely for today’s conversation. After her conversion, the Cross became the focal point of her spirituality and is instructive for us all in how to patiently bear suffering in our own lives. She also deeply reverenced her Jewish roots and saw in her Catholic faith a way for her to become even more Jewish.
Edith Stein was born to a Jewish family in Germany in 1891. By her teenage years, she had begun to distance herself from faith and religion, ultimately considering herself an atheist. However, Edith demonstrated an impressive capacity for critical thinking and eventually took up the study of philosophy. She studied under the most impressive teachers at the time; famous German philosophers like Max Scheler and Edmund Husserl. Edith was distinguished for her brilliance and carved herself a space in the academic field which in her time was exclusively dominated by men. She was fascinated by the dignity of women and wrote extensively on the topic. Edith’s writings have deeply influenced a renewed vision of feminism even today.
Edith Stein’s curiosity about faith was rekindled when she saw a woman, coming from market, rush into the Frankfurt Cathedral for a short visit to the Blessed Sacrament. “This was something new for me,” she wrote, noticing that the woman was “coming straight from the busy marketplace into this empty church, as if she were going to have an intimate conversation. It was something I never forgot.” Years later, while at a dinner party with friends, she stayed up all night reading in a corner, enthralled by the autobiography of St. Theresa of Avila. When she concluded the book the next morning, she muttered to herself, “This is the truth,” and a year later was baptized into the Catholic Faith.
Edith Stein spent the next decade teaching in schools, lecturing on women’s issues, and working to secure a university teaching position; all the while longing to enter a Carmelite monastery and devote her life to prayer. When, in 1933, the Nazi’s rise to power prohibited her from teaching because of her Jewish roots, she took the moment as the divinely ordained time to enter religious life. She entered the Carmelite Convent in Cologne, Germany in 1933 and was given the religious name Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. Her contemplation of the mystery of Christ’s suffering on the Cross would deeply mark her religious life. By 1938, Nazi aggression against the Jews became so overt that Sr. Teresa’s superiors transferred her across the German border to the Carmelite Monastery in Echt, Netherlands. When the Nazis gained power in the Netherlands, the Dutch bishops decried the violence against Jews, and the Nazis increased their persecution in retaliation. Edith Stein was dragged from the chapel and arrested by the Gestapo in 1942, along with her blood sister who had also become a nun. As Edith was carried away, she was overheard to say “Come, we are going for our people.” St. Edith Stein perished in the gas chambers of Auschwitz on August 9, 1942. She was canonized in 1998 by St. John Paul II.
Why she’s awesome?
St. Edith Stein is a compelling example of a woman passionately searching for truth, moving gently along the spectrum from atheism to faith. She was a trailblazer in securing a higher social standing for women in her age and her insights are increasingly timely for today’s conversation. After her conversion, the Cross became the focal point of her spirituality and is instructive for us all in how to patiently bear suffering in our own lives. She also deeply reverenced her Jewish roots and saw in her Catholic faith a way for her to become even more Jewish.
"To love the Church is not to criticize her, not to destroy her, not to try to change her essential structures, not to reduce her to humanism, horizontalism and to the simple service of human liberation. To love the Church is to cooperate with the work of Redemption by the Cross and in this way obtain the grace of the Holy Spirit come to renew the face of this poor earth, conducting it to its consummation in the design of the Father’s immense love.”
What’s her story?
Concepción (“Conchita”) Cabrera de Armida was born in San Luis Potosí, México on December 8, 1862. Conchita was quite the joyful little girl, enthusiastically embracing everything beautiful about childhood. She was playful and affectionate, loved music and dancing, and followed her parents and siblings around to learn the chores of the house. Conchita’s home life was beautifully blessed, with her parents raising her to be devout. She gravitated toward her faith, and by age 15 was already receiving communion daily. She recounts mystical visions of Jesus from an early age, sharing vivid details of the child Jesus coming to her and playing with her.
Conchita met Francisco Armida at a family party when she was 13 years old. The two of them were a match made in heaven, and faithfully dated for nine years until they were married in 1883. She always treated her love for Francisco as a vocation that deepened her union with God and saw in family life a shared path of sanctification that led toward Heaven. During their seventeen years of marriage, Conchita and Francisco raised nine children. Francisco died when Conchita was 39 years old, and she was left to assume all of the responsibilities of the family business and their household alone.
Despite the busyness of family life, Conchita was known to constantly draw her strength from Jesus. On retreat in 1889, she began to feel deep experiences of Jesus in her soul and received from Jesus the words, “Your mission is to save souls.” On January 14, 1894, consumed with a desire to belong entirely to Jesus, she asked permission from her spiritual director to use a firebrand to brand the initials JHS (symbol for the Holy Name of Jesus) upon her chest. She began to cry out in passionate anguish, “Jesus, savior of mankind, save them all!” Shortly afterward, she was given a mystical vision of the “Cruz del Apostolado,” the Cross of the Apostolate that would become the starting point for the entire spirituality of every religious institute she would later found. It was a profound invitation to share in the intimacy of the suffering Christ. Her mystical experiences would continue all the way to her death in 1937. Conchita would recount them in her diaries and retreat notes which have been preserved and published to this day and account for more pages than the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas.
Inspired by her zeal to save souls and her deep union with Jesus born of prayer, Conchita would work with bishops and priests to establish numerous religious institutes, including associations of lay faithful, a contemplative religious congregation, and a missionary order of priests. Her work promoted a deeper living out of our baptismal priesthood in fidelity with the Church and a deep desire for the holiness and sanctification of the ministerial priesthood. Conchita was beatified at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City on May 4, 2019.
Why she’s awesome?
Conchita held in perfect balance the thirst for holiness that ought to characterize every Christian with the heroic love demanded by marriage and family life. Her faithfulness inspired one son to become a priest and one daughter to become a religious sister. Her other children and grandchildren were moved by her devotion and her tenderness. Both in prayer and in work, she displayed a radical openness to the Holy Spirit, trusting in God to lead her through every beautiful and difficult moment. Her love for the Church and her zeal to save souls led her to carve out new ways of living the Gospel, including inspiring priests and bishops to deeper fidelity. With her messages from Jesus, she encouraged priests in Mexico to stay faithful in spite of brutal persecutions.
Concepción (“Conchita”) Cabrera de Armida was born in San Luis Potosí, México on December 8, 1862. Conchita was quite the joyful little girl, enthusiastically embracing everything beautiful about childhood. She was playful and affectionate, loved music and dancing, and followed her parents and siblings around to learn the chores of the house. Conchita’s home life was beautifully blessed, with her parents raising her to be devout. She gravitated toward her faith, and by age 15 was already receiving communion daily. She recounts mystical visions of Jesus from an early age, sharing vivid details of the child Jesus coming to her and playing with her.
Conchita met Francisco Armida at a family party when she was 13 years old. The two of them were a match made in heaven, and faithfully dated for nine years until they were married in 1883. She always treated her love for Francisco as a vocation that deepened her union with God and saw in family life a shared path of sanctification that led toward Heaven. During their seventeen years of marriage, Conchita and Francisco raised nine children. Francisco died when Conchita was 39 years old, and she was left to assume all of the responsibilities of the family business and their household alone.
Despite the busyness of family life, Conchita was known to constantly draw her strength from Jesus. On retreat in 1889, she began to feel deep experiences of Jesus in her soul and received from Jesus the words, “Your mission is to save souls.” On January 14, 1894, consumed with a desire to belong entirely to Jesus, she asked permission from her spiritual director to use a firebrand to brand the initials JHS (symbol for the Holy Name of Jesus) upon her chest. She began to cry out in passionate anguish, “Jesus, savior of mankind, save them all!” Shortly afterward, she was given a mystical vision of the “Cruz del Apostolado,” the Cross of the Apostolate that would become the starting point for the entire spirituality of every religious institute she would later found. It was a profound invitation to share in the intimacy of the suffering Christ. Her mystical experiences would continue all the way to her death in 1937. Conchita would recount them in her diaries and retreat notes which have been preserved and published to this day and account for more pages than the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas.
Inspired by her zeal to save souls and her deep union with Jesus born of prayer, Conchita would work with bishops and priests to establish numerous religious institutes, including associations of lay faithful, a contemplative religious congregation, and a missionary order of priests. Her work promoted a deeper living out of our baptismal priesthood in fidelity with the Church and a deep desire for the holiness and sanctification of the ministerial priesthood. Conchita was beatified at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City on May 4, 2019.
Why she’s awesome?
Conchita held in perfect balance the thirst for holiness that ought to characterize every Christian with the heroic love demanded by marriage and family life. Her faithfulness inspired one son to become a priest and one daughter to become a religious sister. Her other children and grandchildren were moved by her devotion and her tenderness. Both in prayer and in work, she displayed a radical openness to the Holy Spirit, trusting in God to lead her through every beautiful and difficult moment. Her love for the Church and her zeal to save souls led her to carve out new ways of living the Gospel, including inspiring priests and bishops to deeper fidelity. With her messages from Jesus, she encouraged priests in Mexico to stay faithful in spite of brutal persecutions.
“Take care, take care, never to close your heart to anyone.”
What’s his story?
St. Peter Faber was one of the founding members of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits). His college roommates were St. Ignatius of Loyola and St. Francis Xavier.
Peter was born on April 13, 1506, in the village of Villaret, Savoy. As a child he shepherded his family’s flock in the Alps but longed to go to school. At age 10, he got his chance and went to school. The quick learner eventually went to the University of Paris. Peter’s roommate was Francis Xavier. Later, they welcomed another roommate, Ignatius of Loyola. Peter tutored Ignatius in Greek, and Ignatius became Peter’s spiritual guide.
Peter decided to become a priest, and before his ordination Ignatius led him through the Spiritual Exercises, a 30-day retreat developed by St. Ignatius to help people deepen their relationship with God. Peter eventually became an expert in giving the Spiritual Exercises. While hard on himself, he was gentle with others and became a gifted spiritual director, winning others for Jesus.
As the first of Ignatius’s companions ordained, Fr. Faber celebrated Mass when Ignatius, Francis Xavier, and several other friends pronounced their vows as the first members of the Society of Jesus. This happened on the Feast of the Assumption in 1534. The companions wanted to go to the Holy Land to serve Jesus, but it was a dangerous time, and the group was prevented from going there. Peter,, Ignatius, and the others instead went to Rome. The pope appointed Peter to Rome’s Sapienza University, where he lectured on theology and Scripture. He later accompanied a representative to the religious gatherings between Catholics and Protestants in Germany after the Reformation. In Germany, Fr. Faber modeled peaceful dialogue and worked for the renewal of the Church one person at a time, leading many in the Spiritual Exercises.
Between 1544 and 1546, Peter Faber tirelessly continued his work in Portugal and Spain. Throughout his mission years, Fr. Faber traveled on foot. His final journey in 1546 was to Rome where, exhausted from his labors, he died with St. Ignatius at his side. Fr. Faber was only 40 years old.
Pope Francis announced the canonization of Peter Faber (one of his favorite saints) on December 17, 2013. Peter Faber’s memorial is celebrated on August 2.
Why he’s awesome?
St. Peter Faber is an example of friendship leading a circle of companions to better things—even sainthood. From St. Ignatius of Loyola, he learned how to direct people in the Spiritual Exercises, a retreat to help people deepen their relationship with God. Peter Fabe is a model of dialogue, an example sorely needed in today’s world of divisions, where people yell more than have meaningful conversations when they disagree. He worked so quietly for reforms in the Church and in individuals’ hearts that his story is often forgotten, providing an example that most of us can follow—feeling perhaps forgotten as we go about the daily work of bringing people closer to God. Peter Faber also can be a patron of patience, as he wasn’t canonized until 2013, almost 400 years after his more famous Jesuit co-founders.
St. Peter Faber was one of the founding members of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits). His college roommates were St. Ignatius of Loyola and St. Francis Xavier.
Peter was born on April 13, 1506, in the village of Villaret, Savoy. As a child he shepherded his family’s flock in the Alps but longed to go to school. At age 10, he got his chance and went to school. The quick learner eventually went to the University of Paris. Peter’s roommate was Francis Xavier. Later, they welcomed another roommate, Ignatius of Loyola. Peter tutored Ignatius in Greek, and Ignatius became Peter’s spiritual guide.
Peter decided to become a priest, and before his ordination Ignatius led him through the Spiritual Exercises, a 30-day retreat developed by St. Ignatius to help people deepen their relationship with God. Peter eventually became an expert in giving the Spiritual Exercises. While hard on himself, he was gentle with others and became a gifted spiritual director, winning others for Jesus.
As the first of Ignatius’s companions ordained, Fr. Faber celebrated Mass when Ignatius, Francis Xavier, and several other friends pronounced their vows as the first members of the Society of Jesus. This happened on the Feast of the Assumption in 1534. The companions wanted to go to the Holy Land to serve Jesus, but it was a dangerous time, and the group was prevented from going there. Peter,, Ignatius, and the others instead went to Rome. The pope appointed Peter to Rome’s Sapienza University, where he lectured on theology and Scripture. He later accompanied a representative to the religious gatherings between Catholics and Protestants in Germany after the Reformation. In Germany, Fr. Faber modeled peaceful dialogue and worked for the renewal of the Church one person at a time, leading many in the Spiritual Exercises.
Between 1544 and 1546, Peter Faber tirelessly continued his work in Portugal and Spain. Throughout his mission years, Fr. Faber traveled on foot. His final journey in 1546 was to Rome where, exhausted from his labors, he died with St. Ignatius at his side. Fr. Faber was only 40 years old.
Pope Francis announced the canonization of Peter Faber (one of his favorite saints) on December 17, 2013. Peter Faber’s memorial is celebrated on August 2.
Why he’s awesome?
St. Peter Faber is an example of friendship leading a circle of companions to better things—even sainthood. From St. Ignatius of Loyola, he learned how to direct people in the Spiritual Exercises, a retreat to help people deepen their relationship with God. Peter Fabe is a model of dialogue, an example sorely needed in today’s world of divisions, where people yell more than have meaningful conversations when they disagree. He worked so quietly for reforms in the Church and in individuals’ hearts that his story is often forgotten, providing an example that most of us can follow—feeling perhaps forgotten as we go about the daily work of bringing people closer to God. Peter Faber also can be a patron of patience, as he wasn’t canonized until 2013, almost 400 years after his more famous Jesuit co-founders.
“The shepherd cannot run at the first sign of danger.”
What’s his story?
Stanley Rother was born in Okarche, Oklahoma on March 27, 1935. With a knack for farming, he surprised family and friends when he felt drawn to the priesthood during his high school years. He initially was sent away to study at Assumption Seminary in San Antonio, Texas, but struggled academically and could not master the required Latin. Though handy with helping on the seminary grounds, Stanley was ultimately dismissed from studies. Returning home, he appealed to his bishop, who gave him another opportunity and sent him to Mount St. Mary Seminary in Maryland. Stanley Rother was ordained a priest on May 25, 1963.
Fr. Stanley held a few assignments around the diocese, including putting his talent for manual labor to work in rebuilding the diocesan retreat center with his own hands. When Pope John XXIII appealed to the American bishops to send out missionaries to build up the Church in Latin America, Fr. Stanley felt a particular draw from the Holy Spirit to work in the missions. His bishop denied his original request, citing Fr. Rother’s struggles with languages as an obstacle. When a few members of the mission team had to drop out, Fr. Stanley repeated his initial petition and was eventually allowed to go. He arrived in Santiago Atitlán, Guatemala in 1968, beginning a thirteen year assignment that would become his heart’s project. So taken by the people he served, Fr. Stanley not only learned Spanish, but also the Tz’utujil language native to the region. Within a few years, he could preach proficiently and even worked to create the first translation of the New Testament in Tz’utujil. Innovative in serving the mission, he established a radio station for catechesis and a small hospital for medical care. Spending time in the homes of his parishioners, farming alongside them in the field, Fr. Rother soon established himself as a beloved pastor completely dedicated to his flock.
However, the political situation of the time was turbulent in Guatemala, and the church found itself caught between the government and the guerrillas. The Church was frequently villainized for insisting on catechizing and educating the people. Fr. Stanley found his parishioners, his catechists, and even his deacon threatened, beaten, or killed. When his name appeared on one of the death lists, he was encouraged to leave Guatemala. Reluctantly, he returned home for the ordination of a cousin to the priesthood in January of 1981, but was restless and felt out of place. His heart was constantly drawn back to his mission community in Santiago Atitlán, and he expressed to his bishop his desire to return to them in time for Easter. With great hesitation, the bishop finally gave him permission, aware that he was likely signing Fr. Stanley’s death order. Rother returned to the mission in April, aware that he was being watched. On July 28, 1981, three men broke into his rectory, beat up the priest, and put two bullets into his head. The entire mission community was devastated by the loss of their shepherd, and when his body was being flown back to the United States for the funeral, the Tz’utujil requested to keep Fr. Stanley’s heart. It is encased under the altar in Santiago Atitlán to this day. Bl. Stanley Rother was beatified on Sept. 23, 2017 in Oklahoma City.
Why he’s awesome?
Bl. Stanley Rother is the first native-born American to be beatified as a martyr. His humble background and rather ordinary abilities were elevated in the furnace of God’s supernatural charity. He overcame so many obstacles to stay alongside God’s people, and his love and devotion to the people he served led him to lay down his life in imitation of the Good Shepherd.
Stanley Rother was born in Okarche, Oklahoma on March 27, 1935. With a knack for farming, he surprised family and friends when he felt drawn to the priesthood during his high school years. He initially was sent away to study at Assumption Seminary in San Antonio, Texas, but struggled academically and could not master the required Latin. Though handy with helping on the seminary grounds, Stanley was ultimately dismissed from studies. Returning home, he appealed to his bishop, who gave him another opportunity and sent him to Mount St. Mary Seminary in Maryland. Stanley Rother was ordained a priest on May 25, 1963.
Fr. Stanley held a few assignments around the diocese, including putting his talent for manual labor to work in rebuilding the diocesan retreat center with his own hands. When Pope John XXIII appealed to the American bishops to send out missionaries to build up the Church in Latin America, Fr. Stanley felt a particular draw from the Holy Spirit to work in the missions. His bishop denied his original request, citing Fr. Rother’s struggles with languages as an obstacle. When a few members of the mission team had to drop out, Fr. Stanley repeated his initial petition and was eventually allowed to go. He arrived in Santiago Atitlán, Guatemala in 1968, beginning a thirteen year assignment that would become his heart’s project. So taken by the people he served, Fr. Stanley not only learned Spanish, but also the Tz’utujil language native to the region. Within a few years, he could preach proficiently and even worked to create the first translation of the New Testament in Tz’utujil. Innovative in serving the mission, he established a radio station for catechesis and a small hospital for medical care. Spending time in the homes of his parishioners, farming alongside them in the field, Fr. Rother soon established himself as a beloved pastor completely dedicated to his flock.
However, the political situation of the time was turbulent in Guatemala, and the church found itself caught between the government and the guerrillas. The Church was frequently villainized for insisting on catechizing and educating the people. Fr. Stanley found his parishioners, his catechists, and even his deacon threatened, beaten, or killed. When his name appeared on one of the death lists, he was encouraged to leave Guatemala. Reluctantly, he returned home for the ordination of a cousin to the priesthood in January of 1981, but was restless and felt out of place. His heart was constantly drawn back to his mission community in Santiago Atitlán, and he expressed to his bishop his desire to return to them in time for Easter. With great hesitation, the bishop finally gave him permission, aware that he was likely signing Fr. Stanley’s death order. Rother returned to the mission in April, aware that he was being watched. On July 28, 1981, three men broke into his rectory, beat up the priest, and put two bullets into his head. The entire mission community was devastated by the loss of their shepherd, and when his body was being flown back to the United States for the funeral, the Tz’utujil requested to keep Fr. Stanley’s heart. It is encased under the altar in Santiago Atitlán to this day. Bl. Stanley Rother was beatified on Sept. 23, 2017 in Oklahoma City.
Why he’s awesome?
Bl. Stanley Rother is the first native-born American to be beatified as a martyr. His humble background and rather ordinary abilities were elevated in the furnace of God’s supernatural charity. He overcame so many obstacles to stay alongside God’s people, and his love and devotion to the people he served led him to lay down his life in imitation of the Good Shepherd.
"Long live Christ the King!"
What’s his story?
Blessed Miguel Pro was born January 13, 1891 in Zacatecas, Mexico. Already as a child, Miguel was remarkable for his wit and his eloquence. He felt drawn to study for the priesthood, and entered the Jesuit order in 1911. In the wake of intensifying religious persecution in Mexico, Pro was forced to leave the country and continue his studies elsewhere. He spent some time at a seminary in California, but was eventually sent to Belgium to finish his degree and await ordination to the priesthood. Because of the political situation in Mexico, his parents were unable to attend his priesthood ordination, and Fr. Miguel was left to offer his first blessing to a photo of his parents in the isolation of his own room. Recognizing that he lived in relative safety in Belgium while his family was under constant threat of persecution back home, Pro began to feel an earnestness to return home and serve in clandestine priestly ministry in his home country. He was eventually given permission, and returned to Mexico in 1926.
Fr. Miguel gave himself generously to his community in Veracruz, carrying out almost his entire priesthood in secret. Masses were celebrated in basements or dining rooms of family homes, confessions heard in secret behind a newspaper stand in the park. He even dressed as a police officer in order to sneak into the jail and offer last rites to prisoners who were facing execution. As government restrictions became more intense, Fr. Pro became more masterfully creative in finding new ways to carry on the faith.
Ultimately, the targets of the persecution would come to fall on him. Falsely accused of a plot to assassinate the former president, Fr. Miguel was arrested along with his brothers and sentenced to death. Even though the actual perpetrators of the crime turned themselves in, the execution was still pushed through. As Fr. Pro was led to his death, he turned to his executioners and prayed, “ May God have mercy on you. May God bless you. Lord, you know that I am innocent. With all my heart I forgive my enemies.” In his last moments, he asked to be allowed to kneel and pray, before finally rising and stretching out his hands in the form of a cross, shouting “Que Viva Cristo Rey!” (“Long live Christ the King”). The firing squad took aim and shot Miguel Pro dead on the spot on November 23, 1927.
Intending to use the event as a way to quash the religious fervor of the people, President Calles ordered the execution to be photographed and ran it as a front-page story in all the newspapers. His plan back-fired, and 40,000 people lined the streets for Fr. Miguel Pro’s funeral procession in defiance of the Calles laws, with another 20,000 awaiting his body at the cemetery, all chanting “Que viva Cristo Rey!”
Why he’s awesome?
Fr. Miguel Pro’s courage and zeal for Christ was contagious. He gave the best of his talents to God, and passionately served his people in extraordinarily desperate times. As a priest, he could not imagine depriving the faithful of the grace of the sacraments, and risked his life for every Mass he celebrated. His last words became a battle cry that inspired a generation to work toward the restoration of religious freedom in Mexico and around the world. He is the first martyr whose death was captured on film.
Blessed Miguel Pro was born January 13, 1891 in Zacatecas, Mexico. Already as a child, Miguel was remarkable for his wit and his eloquence. He felt drawn to study for the priesthood, and entered the Jesuit order in 1911. In the wake of intensifying religious persecution in Mexico, Pro was forced to leave the country and continue his studies elsewhere. He spent some time at a seminary in California, but was eventually sent to Belgium to finish his degree and await ordination to the priesthood. Because of the political situation in Mexico, his parents were unable to attend his priesthood ordination, and Fr. Miguel was left to offer his first blessing to a photo of his parents in the isolation of his own room. Recognizing that he lived in relative safety in Belgium while his family was under constant threat of persecution back home, Pro began to feel an earnestness to return home and serve in clandestine priestly ministry in his home country. He was eventually given permission, and returned to Mexico in 1926.
Fr. Miguel gave himself generously to his community in Veracruz, carrying out almost his entire priesthood in secret. Masses were celebrated in basements or dining rooms of family homes, confessions heard in secret behind a newspaper stand in the park. He even dressed as a police officer in order to sneak into the jail and offer last rites to prisoners who were facing execution. As government restrictions became more intense, Fr. Pro became more masterfully creative in finding new ways to carry on the faith.
Ultimately, the targets of the persecution would come to fall on him. Falsely accused of a plot to assassinate the former president, Fr. Miguel was arrested along with his brothers and sentenced to death. Even though the actual perpetrators of the crime turned themselves in, the execution was still pushed through. As Fr. Pro was led to his death, he turned to his executioners and prayed, “ May God have mercy on you. May God bless you. Lord, you know that I am innocent. With all my heart I forgive my enemies.” In his last moments, he asked to be allowed to kneel and pray, before finally rising and stretching out his hands in the form of a cross, shouting “Que Viva Cristo Rey!” (“Long live Christ the King”). The firing squad took aim and shot Miguel Pro dead on the spot on November 23, 1927.
Intending to use the event as a way to quash the religious fervor of the people, President Calles ordered the execution to be photographed and ran it as a front-page story in all the newspapers. His plan back-fired, and 40,000 people lined the streets for Fr. Miguel Pro’s funeral procession in defiance of the Calles laws, with another 20,000 awaiting his body at the cemetery, all chanting “Que viva Cristo Rey!”
Why he’s awesome?
Fr. Miguel Pro’s courage and zeal for Christ was contagious. He gave the best of his talents to God, and passionately served his people in extraordinarily desperate times. As a priest, he could not imagine depriving the faithful of the grace of the sacraments, and risked his life for every Mass he celebrated. His last words became a battle cry that inspired a generation to work toward the restoration of religious freedom in Mexico and around the world. He is the first martyr whose death was captured on film.
“Love and sacrifice are closely linked, like the sun and the light. We cannot love without suffering and we cannot suffer without love.”
What’s her story?
In less than 40 years, Gianna Beretta Molla became a pediatric physician, a wife, a mother and a saint! She was born in Magenta, Italy, near Milano, the tenth of Alberto and Maria Beretta’s 13 children, on October 4, 1922. As a child, she openly embraced her family's Catholic faith and loved to pray. She had a special devotion to God’s Providence, seeing all things as proceeding from God’s holy will. In high school and college, Gianna was active in a youth movement called Catholic Action that sought to put Catholic faith into practice by direct service to the poor. Her care for the poor and elderly inspired in her a desire to become a physician and use her skills to care for those without means. Gianna earned degrees in medicine and surgery from the University of Pavia, eventually specializing in pediatrics. She hoped to do this work as a missionary with her brother, a priest, but her chronic illness prevented this. Instead, she made her pediatric clinic her mission and saw her work as an expression of God’s will for her life.
In 1952, she met engineer Pietro Molla and they were married in 1955. She embraced her vocation to marriage and family life and saw in it a special call to raise a truly Christian family. In the next four years the Mollas had three children: Pierluigi, Mariolina, and Laura. Two pregnancies following ended in miscarriage. In spite of her sadness, Gianna surrendered herself to God’s will and persisted in her zest for life, maintaining the difficult balance between work, family, and faith.
Early into her final pregnancy, doctors discovered that Gianna had both a child and a tumor in her uterus. While she allowed the surgeons to remove the tumor, she pleaded with them to save the life of the child growing within her. Warned of the risks of forgoing treatment, Gianna again surrendered herself to God’s Providence, trusting that He would take care of everything she needed. She insisted that the surgeons not perform the complete hysterectomy that they recommended, which would have killed her unborn child. Seven months later in April 1962, Gianna Emanuela Molla was born at the hospital in Monza. The morning of her child’s birth, surrendered once again to Divine Providence, Gianna reminded the doctors: “If you must decide between me and the child, do not hesitate: choose the child - I insist on it. Save my baby.” While baby Gianna was born healthy, adult Gianna would not survive. After welcoming her daughter into the world, Gianna died a few days later at home on April 28, 1962 from postoperative complications and infection. When St. John Paul II canonized St. Gianna Beretta Molla on May 16, 2004, and her husband and children were present for her canonization Mass. Baby Gianna spent the rest of her life giving talks and testimony about her mother.
Why she’s awesome?
Throughout her life, St. Gianna remained convinced of God’s Divine Providence, an awareness that God will lead us always deeper into His will. Her love and devotion to her husband and her family are admirable. Though Gianna made the ultimate sacrifice for her baby, her story finds deep resonance with mothers and children alike, for we would all want to think of ourselves as fully capable of making the same sacrifice. Still, Gianna isn’t praised for what she could have done, but rather what she did do. With great faith and courage, Gianna Molla made the terribly difficult choice to trust Providence and to accept whatever would come to her by His hand. Her daughter was that enabled her daughter to be born. We can often wish that we were in different circumstances, but holiness frequently comes from making difficult choices in bad situations.
In less than 40 years, Gianna Beretta Molla became a pediatric physician, a wife, a mother and a saint! She was born in Magenta, Italy, near Milano, the tenth of Alberto and Maria Beretta’s 13 children, on October 4, 1922. As a child, she openly embraced her family's Catholic faith and loved to pray. She had a special devotion to God’s Providence, seeing all things as proceeding from God’s holy will. In high school and college, Gianna was active in a youth movement called Catholic Action that sought to put Catholic faith into practice by direct service to the poor. Her care for the poor and elderly inspired in her a desire to become a physician and use her skills to care for those without means. Gianna earned degrees in medicine and surgery from the University of Pavia, eventually specializing in pediatrics. She hoped to do this work as a missionary with her brother, a priest, but her chronic illness prevented this. Instead, she made her pediatric clinic her mission and saw her work as an expression of God’s will for her life.
In 1952, she met engineer Pietro Molla and they were married in 1955. She embraced her vocation to marriage and family life and saw in it a special call to raise a truly Christian family. In the next four years the Mollas had three children: Pierluigi, Mariolina, and Laura. Two pregnancies following ended in miscarriage. In spite of her sadness, Gianna surrendered herself to God’s will and persisted in her zest for life, maintaining the difficult balance between work, family, and faith.
Early into her final pregnancy, doctors discovered that Gianna had both a child and a tumor in her uterus. While she allowed the surgeons to remove the tumor, she pleaded with them to save the life of the child growing within her. Warned of the risks of forgoing treatment, Gianna again surrendered herself to God’s Providence, trusting that He would take care of everything she needed. She insisted that the surgeons not perform the complete hysterectomy that they recommended, which would have killed her unborn child. Seven months later in April 1962, Gianna Emanuela Molla was born at the hospital in Monza. The morning of her child’s birth, surrendered once again to Divine Providence, Gianna reminded the doctors: “If you must decide between me and the child, do not hesitate: choose the child - I insist on it. Save my baby.” While baby Gianna was born healthy, adult Gianna would not survive. After welcoming her daughter into the world, Gianna died a few days later at home on April 28, 1962 from postoperative complications and infection. When St. John Paul II canonized St. Gianna Beretta Molla on May 16, 2004, and her husband and children were present for her canonization Mass. Baby Gianna spent the rest of her life giving talks and testimony about her mother.
Why she’s awesome?
Throughout her life, St. Gianna remained convinced of God’s Divine Providence, an awareness that God will lead us always deeper into His will. Her love and devotion to her husband and her family are admirable. Though Gianna made the ultimate sacrifice for her baby, her story finds deep resonance with mothers and children alike, for we would all want to think of ourselves as fully capable of making the same sacrifice. Still, Gianna isn’t praised for what she could have done, but rather what she did do. With great faith and courage, Gianna Molla made the terribly difficult choice to trust Providence and to accept whatever would come to her by His hand. Her daughter was that enabled her daughter to be born. We can often wish that we were in different circumstances, but holiness frequently comes from making difficult choices in bad situations.
Check out Fr. Bobby’s homily sharing three of these stories with our school kids!
He shared the remaining three stories with them during an all-school assembly the next day.
