Padre Pio of Pietrelcina and Thérèse of Lisieux are among the most famous and popular of modern saints, but few realize how much they have in common. After all, Thérèse lived only twenty-four years, while Pio lived to be eighty-one. She wanted everything she did to be imitable, while he is famous for extraordinary phenomena that put him well beyond imitation by even the most ambitious among us.
And yet, the young French Carmelite and the old Franciscan friar share a whole litany of likenesses, so on this feast of Padre Pio, which is only a novena away from the feast of St. Thérèse, here are a few of their striking similarities.
A most delightful resemblance between Pio and Thérèse is their proximity to us, and by that, I mean two things: first, they both lived in the modern era, so we are blessed to have many photos and anecdotes about them. Second, they both love to appear, literally, to those who call upon them.
When asked by her sisters if she would watch over them from Heaven, Thérèse said, “No, I won’t watch over you—I will come down,” and she has kept her promise. Stronger than Steel is a selection from the Lisieux Carmel’s The Rain of Roses, consisting of letters from soldiers involved in World War I who wrote to the Carmel about the “nurse” who saved them on the front lines. This “nurse” turned out to be Sister Thérèse, not yet beatified but busy, as she had promised, doing good on earth until the end of time. Elizabeth Ficocelli’s Shower Heavenly of Roses is another book which catalogues a variety of more recent miracles brought about through the intercession of St. Thérèse.
As for Padre Pio and his favors, there is a terrific website of testimonials that will convince you to ask for his help (if you haven’t already) and encourage you to keep asking (if you already have). Furthermore, there’s Diane Allen’s Pray, Hope, and Don’t Worry, Book I and Book II, which are stuffed with stories of Padre Pio’s kindness to clients. My favorite of his appearances may be the one revealed by the boy who was the subject of his canonization miracle. After being healed of a terminal illness, the boy asked his mom, “But will the man in the brown robe still come visit me?” Padre Pio had been keeping him company, holding his hand at night when the child might have been afraid in the hospital.
Another charming feature shared by Pio and Thérèse is their free expression of the full range of human emotions, combined with a well-developed sense of humor. As a child, Thérèse cried a lot and then cried for having cried. Pio cried so much when his parents died that he had to be told to stop so they could be happy in Heaven!
As to joy and laughter, these gifts of God were given in full measure to our hero and heroine. Thérèse made her novice Marie of the Trinity cry into a little shell so that her tears over Thérèse’s impending departure to Heaven wouldn’t get the best of her. It was almost impossible for Marie to cry into the shell without feeling silly, so her tears quickly dried up.
When Thérèse did in fact die (or as she liked to say, when she “entered Life”), Marie disobediently gave in to her tears, but Thérèse didn’t let her get away with it. Marie had been tasked with taking pilgrims’ and grievers’ religious objects, such as rosaries and medals, and touching them to Thérèse’s body lying in state. One rosary got entwined in Thérèse’s fingers such that Marie couldn’t get it back. Interiorly, she heard Thérèse asking, “Have you been crying into the shell?” Of course, Marie’s silent answer was no. Thérèse then told her that she wouldn’t let go of the rosary until Marie promised she’d obey. Marie wouldn’t promise, so Thérèse held on. (Yes, Thérèse herself was in Heaven, but she’d promised to come down, and come down she did!) At last, Marie made the promise, and immediately she was able to take the rosary from Thérèse’s fingers and hand it back to its patient owner.
As for Pio, he was eating breakfast one day when someone asked him for a relic. Padre Pio was fully alive, body and soul still well attached to each other, and he was a little put out (though certainly used to it) that someone wanted a relic. It is true that sometimes he acted fiercely because nutty women like me would snip off pieces of his habit. Had he not yelled, he certainly would have been a liability to the monastery tailor! Nonetheless, he was a funny guy, and he responded with perfect aplomb to this breakfast time request. He picked a Rice Krispie out of his cereal bowl and handed it across the table. “Here’s a relic!” he said with a smile (and I like to think somewhere it is still venerated).
With sweet devotion, Pio and Thérèse also shared a deep love for both the infant Jesus and Our Lord in His passion. Padre Pio would experience the passion by his stigmata, but also when he said Mass. Each Christmas, he rejoiced exceedingly at the presence of the baby Jesus in the creche. Thérèse, as we can see in her religious titles “of the Child Jesus” and “of the Holy Face” also cherished these two mysteries.
Furthermore, like all the saints, they especially loved Our Lady, although one amusing difference between them was their attitude toward the Rosary. Thérèse didn’t mind saying the rosary in community, but on her own she had such trouble praying a single rosary that she said she’d rather use an instrument of penance. Padre Pio, on the other hand, said so many rosaries a day that the numbers quoted regarding how many he said are almost incredible. When asked, “How can you say so many rosaries each day?” our dear Padre had the best possible answer: “How can you not?” For this reason I like to ask St. Padre Pio, along with St. John Paul II, to share with us their love of the rosary, which they called their favorite prayer.
While Pio and Thérèse were, again like all the saints, especially devoted to Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, a less known and less common grace they shared was the Real Presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament that abided within them between their Holy Communions. Padre Pio has a beautiful prayer repeating the refrain “Stay with me, Lord” in which he recounts the many reasons he desires this abiding union, and Thérèse asks explicitly for Jesus to remain in her “as in a tabernacle” in her Act of Oblation to Merciful Love. I’ve written about this great grace in Something New with St. Thérèse, Her Eucharistic Miracle, and it’s marvelous to realize that Thérèse encourages us all to ask for this miracle too.
Another common gift of Pio and Thérèse is using scent of flowers to indicate their presence, their help, and their love.
Finally, though it might seem accidental, we get to celebrate their feasts at nearly the same time each fall. In an awesome example of perfect timing, God allows us to begin a novena on September 23rd, St. Padre Pio’s feast day, in order to end on October 1st, the feast of St. Thérèse.
St. Padre Pio and St. Thérèse, come down from Heaven and show us the love that the Blessed Trinity has for us, inspire in us a love for the rosary, and obtain for us the grace to be living tabernacles for Jesus. Amen.
Photo by monika karaivanova on Unsplash
