From Fr. Mark-October 25
As Halloween, All Saints, and All Souls day celebration approach next weekend, it gives us an opportunity to look at those Saints who aren’t all sweetness and holiness. Some fit in just fine with Halloween creepiness.
American Catholics sometimes feel conflicted about Halloween. The very name is a contraction for “All Hallows Evening,” but somehow a Christian vigil for the saints became a secular holiday that features witches, monsters, spooks, and hobgoblins. How do frightening creatures of the imagination fit into a religion that extols the values of attaining personal holiness and union with God?
Instead of dressing in black, wearing sheets, and decorating pumpkins, some Catholics prefer to turn to their favorite saints. Devils are transformed into archangels. Witches and wizards exchange wands for prop swords, becoming St. Joan or St. George. Some who enjoy Halloween gore dress up as martyrs drenched in fake blood.
The assumption is that saints, being holy, are safe. Even the martyrs, under the blood and despite various missing body parts, are presumed to be good, decent people who lived upstanding lives right up until they were thrown to the lions. But saints aren’t all sweetness and holiness—some fit in just fine with Halloween creepiness.
There are plenty of scary saints in the church’s canon—men and women who eventually became saints, but who you might not want to meet on a dark night under the light of a full moon. Their stories show Christians that the road to holiness isn’t necessarily lined with flowers and covered in rainbows, that the hope of heaven is for everyone—even for scary people. Let’s look at a few of the church’s scary people.
Sts. Lucian and Marcian (c. 250)
Living in the darkness of idolatry applied themselves to the vain study of the black art; but were converted to the faith by finding their charms lose their power upon a Christian virgin, and the evil spirits defeated by the sign of the cross. Their eyes being thus opened, they burned their magical books in the middle of the city of Nicomedia; and, when they had effaced their crimes by baptism, they distributed their possessions among the poor, and retired together into a close solitude, that by exercising themselves in mortification and prayer, they might subdue their passions, and strengthen in their souls that grace which they had just received, and which could not safely be exposed to dangers, and occasions of temptations in the world till it was fenced by rooted habits of all virtues, and religious exercises. After a considerable time spent in silence they made frequent excursions abroad to preach Christ to the Gentiles, and gain souls to the kingdom of his love. The edicts of Decius against the Christians being published in Bithyma, in 250, they were apprehended and brought before the proconsul Sabinus, who asked Lucian by what authority he presumed to preach Jesus Christ? “Every man,” said the martyr, “does well to endeavor to draw his brother out of a dangerous error.” Marcian likewise highly extolled the power of Christ. The judge commanded them to be hung on the rack and cruelly tortured. The martyrs reproached him, that while they worshipped idols they had committed many crimes, and had made open profession of practising art magic without incurring any chastisement; but, when they were become Christians and good citizens, they were barbarously punished. The proconsul threatened them with more grievous torments. “We are ready to suffer,” said Marcian, “but we will never renounce the true God, lest we be cast into a fire which will never be quenched.” At this word Sabinus condemned them to be burned alive. They went joyfully to the place of execution, and, singing hymns of praise and thanksgiving to God, expired amidst the flames.
St. Pulcheria (c. 398–453)
The daughter of an Eastern Roman emperor, Pulcheria was named guardian and regent for her younger brother, Theodosius II. As regent, she had a large role in forming the new emperor’s harsh measures undertaken against Jews in the region. Pulcheria wasn’t canonized, the modern process being hundreds of years in the future. Given her anti-Semitic activity, which wasn’t just scary but evil, it’s doubtful she’d pass the historical review candidates for sainthood receive today.
Pulcheria may be better known for her conflicts with Nestorius, Archbishop of Constantinople. When Nestorius tried to strip Pulcheria and her sisters of their ecclesial privileges, banishing them from the altar to an upper balcony of the church, Pulcheria led the women in throwing cabbages at Nestorius as he led worship. Her opposition to Nestorius’s denial of the Virgin Mary’s role as the Theotokos (God bearer) may be one reason she was given the honor of sainthood, despite some very unsaintly acts.
St. Winifed of Wales (c. 7th century)
She has a pretty simple story. She was a beautiful girl and there was a wealthy man who wanted to marry her, but she didn’t want that. There are a lot of saint stories like this. There are lots of MeToo stories in the Bible. But Winifred is a little special. See the guy had her beheaded and her head fell to the ground and where it fell, a stream of water gushed forth. Like the Lourdes of Wales.
At some point, Winifred’s uncle found her head in the stream and re-attached it. Yes, he put it back on her body and she lived for many more years.
St. Olga of Kiev (c. 890–969)
Mass murderers are not generally thought of as saints, but another Catholic monarch attained sainthood despite her brutal reprisal against her husband’s murderers. Not much is known about Olga before her marriage to her husband, Igor. When Igor fell afoul of a neighboring tribe that didn’t take kindly to his demands for money and murdered him, Olga used her position as her young son’s regent to take revenge on the tribe, reportedly directing her men to slaughter thousands of people.
Later on in her reign, Olga converted to Christianity, taking the mother of the Emperor Constantine as her patron saint. She tried to bring Kiev along with her into Christianity. By that time, though, her son was ruling in his own right and refused. Her son did allow Olga to build churches and agreed not to persecute converts.
St. Christina the Astonishing (1150–1224)
Christina hasn’t been the only holy person to throw herself into extreme asceticism and stringent self-mortification. St. Rose of Lima, for example, discouraged her suitors by damaging her own face. In Christina’s case, though, her behavior included wandering the streets in rags, jumping into fires and emerging unharmed, offering herself up to be mauled by wild dogs, and tossing herself into briar patches.
Christina’s “career” as a public penitent began after a near-death experience. After a seizure, she was presumed dead. During the funeral liturgy, she suddenly rose from her coffin, insisting that she’d chosen to come back to Earth to rescue souls from purgatory. Her bizarre behavior, which might have been the result of either undiagnosed mental illness or traumatic brain injury following her seizure, was so unsettling to her community that she was suspected of being possessed by the devil. Eventually, she settled down somewhat, especially when ordered to do so by religious authority. Although widely venerated as a saint, she has never been canonized.
St. Wilgefortis (c. 14th century)
Patron saint of the best Halloween costume. She was about to be married off to some awful guy her father picked, and she didn’t want it. So she prayed and prayed to God to make her ugly. And when she woke up, she had a full beard.
Of course, the guy left her at the altar. And her father was so mad, he had her crucified. Her holy card shows her on the cross, with her full beard. It confused many, who thought the image was Jesus on the cross, but it’s not. She’s called Wilgefortis in Wales, but she’s known as Unencumber in England and Liberata in Italy.
St. Damien Of Molokai (c. 1840-1889)
Getting devoured by lions is gruesome. Being eaten alive by leprosy might be worse. In 1864, Damien (born Jozef De Veuster) asked his bishop to send him to Molokai Island. Was this Belgian missionary asking for a vacation? No. He wanted to help the lepers sent there. The Hawaiians had sent them away to keep the flesh-eating disease from spreading. The bishop agreed.Fr. Damien organized the lawless lepers. Together, they built houses, hospitals, places of worship, and places to be buried with dignity. Fr. Damien said, “I make myself a leper with the lepers to gain all to Jesus Christ. That is why, in preaching, I say ‘we lepers.’ ”
Fr. Damien served the Molokai lepers for 16 years. Sure enough, he, too, got leprosy. His statue stands in the National Statuary Hall Collection in Washington, DC. The figure shows leprosy scars on his face and right arm. This statue honors Fr. Damien’s service amid the horrific.[9]
St. Bartolo Longo (1841–1926)
If you’ve ever wondered if Satan worshippers can go to heaven, the answer is yes. As a student studying law at the University of Naples, Bartolo Longo fell in with a bad crowd. At the time in Italy, anti-papal sentiment was high and Longo’s contemporaries were demonstrating for Italian unification. Longo’s peers at the university were involved in spiritualism and occult activity, and Longo himself became a satanic priest.
Longo’s participation in satanic ritual didn’t bring him spiritual peace, though. Quite the opposite. He reportedly suffered from anxiety and depression. Fortunately, he listened to a friend who urged him to see a Catholic priest. The priest helped Longo return to his Catholic roots, and introduced him to the rosary. He spent much of the rest of his life promoting the rosary as a means of attaining inner peace.
Jacques Fesch (1930–1957)
Jacques Fesch first achieved infamy as a thief and murderer, albeit an inept one. He dreamed of sailing around the world in a boat, which sounds harmless enough, but when he couldn’t convince his parents to buy him his boat, he decided to steal the money he needed. His victim called for the gendarmes, who set off in hot pursuit of Fesch. The young man panicked and shot one of the cops, killing him.
Fesch’s lawyer wasn’t able to save his client from being condemned to death, but did finally manage to break through Fesch’s apathy and convince him to repent for his crime. While in prison awaiting execution, Fesch kept a spiritual journal. He also managed to reconcile with his family. His last journal entry read, “In five hours, I will see Jesus!” Despite some controversy, given the notoriety of his crime, his sanctity is being investigated.
St. Pio (1887 – 1968)
St. Pio was known as a living martyr. In 1918, this Franciscan friar received the mystical wounds of Christ. He bled from his hands, side, and feet. How did he bleed day and night and stay alive? Were these wounds for real? Religious superiors restricted Padre Pio from serving in public. He could not even offer Mass.
Pio soon proved he was not causing the wounds himself, and the pope restored him to public ministry. During Mass, Padre Pio seemed to share in Christ’s suffering. His whole body appeared to relive Christ’s pain when carrying the cross to Calvary. Brother Fucci watched Pio raise the bread in remembrance of Christ’s offering. Fucci said, “His suffering reached its height. Watching his weeping, his sobbing, I was afraid his heart would burst. [ . . . ] He offered himself with Christ . . . ” Padre Pio’s holiness brought much fame, which caused more trouble. He often said, “I only want to be a poor friar who prays.” Pio prayed his wounds would be hidden so that people would no longer praise or doubt him. Still, he bore the bleeding Christ-like wounds for 50 years! They closed just before his death.
October 31, rightly seen, is an invitation: to remember the faithful who have gone before us, to face our mortality with hope, and to practice holiness in a culture that often prefers distraction. Reclaiming All Hallows Eve does not erase fun; it gives that night a center—saints, prayer, and the sure promise that Christ has conquered death.
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