Everyone who goes down to the crypt and kneels in front of the tomb feels that something under that massive granite is still moving. This is why an influx of pilgrims continues without interruption, increasing with every passing day. Like a mysterious force, everyone who goes down kneels, prays, and asks with the assurance of receiving. 

—from St. Anthony Messenger‘s “Padre Pio: A Saint for All Seasons“
by Fr. Francesco Napolitano

This mysterious Franciscan saint continues to inspire the faith lives of believers worldwide. 

Padre Pio was dead. After his passing in 1968, his fellow priests decided that nothing short of a crypt would be a worthy grave. Thus, Padre Pio could remain, now and forever, in the very friary and church in which he had worked. A huge light shines brightly in this crypt; a bit of paradise has descended into it. In that tomb lies the body of a man who imitated Jesus in pain and suffering as perhaps no one else of his time did. 

In an era when the world was conquering the moon, Christ was conquering the earth. When a civilization steeped in technology and materialism clamored to be heard, Padre Pio replied with his God-filled silence and his immolation in the confessional. His silent testimony was so effectual that it dealt a powerful blow to those whose apostolate was materialism and agitation and to organizations that devalued spiritual life, prayer, humility, obedience, and sacrifice. The proof that only a saint can leave such a lasting impression lies in the fact that, in spite of all their celebrity, the others are soon forgotten once they die. 

One day, Padre Pio said jokingly, “After my death there will be more hubbub than there is now.” Indeed, Padre Pio was truly a man who shook the world. “In the light of this ideal,” wrote Jesuit Father Domenico Mondrone, “the image of Padre Pio breaks out of the restricting frame of San Giovanni Rotondo and is offered for the guidance and admiration of the entire world. Padre Pio is still here waiting for you, watching over each of you, listening to you, and loving you. His love has not decreased with his death; it has, instead, increased immeasurably. I am sure that not a single one of you will leave that tomb without a gift from his inexhaustible paternal love.” 

Everyone who goes down to the crypt and kneels in front of the tomb feels that something under that massive granite is still moving. This is why an influx of pilgrims continues without interruption, increasing with every passing day. Like a mysterious force, everyone who goes down kneels, prays, and asks with the assurance of receiving. Father Fernando of Riese, Italy, who knew the saint, wrote, “Padre Pio, during his 50 years as a stigmatist, attracted the attention of the entire world, including nonbelievers, to himself and his work.” 

‘After I Die, I Will Do So Much More’ 

This attention did not stop after his death. Only the controversies ceased and were transformed to veneration. The greatest trial to which Padre Pio was subjected in life was excessive publicity, which nearly made him more of a martyr than a confessor. The greatest proof of his virtue comes from the people as they remember his life, make pilgrimages to his tomb, and ask for his intercession. 

Considering all the good he did and all the sacrifices he made for other people, Padre Pio should be regarded as a man full of glory. 

“His glorification,” wrote Raffaele Pellecchia, the late archbishop of Sorrento, Italy, “[will be the clearest reply that the Church council] will give to this modern era—because the glory and the hope, the sorrow and agony of modern man, especially the poor and the suffering, were also the joy and hope, the sorrow and agony of Padre Pio. There was nothing genuinely human that did not echo in his heart.” 

The late Archbishop Adolfo Tortolo, of Paraná, Argentina, believed that Padre Pio’s holiness had stirred the world and would continue to stir it. The illustrious prelate declared that the task of putting the marvelous pages of history before humankind had just begun, a history that would tell of his divine deeds—a new “gift,” a new “grace” that God would give humanity. “The dawn of the glorification of Padre Pio is already here,” said Father Bernadino of Siena, the late postulator general of the Capuchin Order, at the time of Padre Pio’s death. 

Inquiries were made to the Sacred Congregation for the Cause of Saints regarding the disposition of the authorities in regard to opening Padre Pio’s cause. A favorable reply was received and forwarded to the minister general of the order and his council on October 31, 1969, describing it as a “special cause involving universal reverberations.” 

Having received “nothing to the contrary” from the guardians of the order, the postulator forwarded the official request to the archbishop of Manfredonia on November 4, 1969, stating that “Padre Pio’s reputation of holiness is becoming even better known since his death.” He believed “that such a reputation of holiness was not due to human artifice, but to the saintliness of Padre Pio’s life.” 

On October 25, 1971, Archbishop Valentino Vailati of Manfredonia ordered the clerics and all the faithful to send all their written reports to the Holy See as soon as possible because the preliminaries for the cause for the beatification and canonization of Padre Pio were underway. 

By the end of 1971, the postulator general was able to say that the cause had truly made progress. After the collection of testimonies, the preparation of a critical biography, the revision of Padre Pio’s writings by two theologians, and the preparation of all the other documents, the archbishop gave all the requested documentation necessary to the Sacred Congregation for the Cause of Saints on January 6, 1973. 

This was necessary for obtaining the nihil obstat for the introduction of the cause for the beatification and canonization of the Servant of God Padre Pio of Pietrelcina. This is the work and the will of man; the remainder is being done by God through his faithful servant who is keeping his promise: “After I die, I will do so much more.” 

Padre Pio’s Holy Mission 

“My real mission will begin after my death.” These words that Padre Pio spoke regularly became a prophecy. Devotion to the stigmatized Padre only increased in the years after his death, as people around the world invoked him in their prayers. Today, he is one of the most invoked religious figures in Catholicism. 

To those who knew him and the many who knew of him, Padre Pio was a saint in all but name. The road to canonization began in 1982, when the Archbishop Valentino Vailati was authorized by the Holy See to open up the investigation into whether or not Padre Pio should be considered a saint. 

Of course, to so many people it was not a matter of if, but a matter of when. Back in 1947, a young Polish priest, Father Karol Wojtyla, was studying in Rome when he had the chance to visit Padre Pio. He spent the week in San Giovanni Rotondo attending Pio’s Masses and later received confession from the friar. According to Stefano Campanella, the author of several books on Padre Pio, it was then that the friar entrusted the priest with a secret—he had another wound, one that he revealed to no one else. 

“It is my shoulder wound,” he told him, “which no one knows about and has never been cured or treated.” This wound can be equated to that which Jesus sustained as he climbed Mount Calvary. His most painful wound, as he revealed to St. Bernard of Clairvaux in a vision, came not from the nails of the cross, but from the heavy cross itself as he bore it on his shoulder. 

It is also long rumored—although Father Wojtyla denied it on many occasions—that Padre Pio had then predicted that the young priest would ascend to the highest position in the Church. It was this priest who, years later, forged the path to Padre Pio’s canonization: The world  came to know him as Pope John Paul II. 

The first true step to sainthood came in 1990 when Padre Pio was declared a Servant of God. From then, the Congregation for the Causes of Saints debated over the way Padre Pio lived his life, his saintliness, and all that had been said of him—the controversies and the rumors, the miracles and the intercessions. 

In 1997, Pope John Paul II declared him Venerable. Now the congregation had to turn to discussing the impact Padre Pio’s life had had on others, considering any reported miracles at his intercession. Many cases were considered. In their deliberations, they considered all his virtues and his ability to do good even after his death. 

After two years of debating, they had come to their conclusion. In 1999, Padre Pio was declared Blessed. Two scientifically unexplained healings were approved as miracles by the congregation: one in December 1998, that of Consiglia de Martino of Salerno, and one in December 2000, that of 7-year-old Matteo Colella of San Giovanni Rotondo. Both were cured by Padre Pio’s intercession years after his death. On June 16, 2002, 55 years after the Padre had heard his confession, Pope John Paul II declared Padre Pio a saint. 

An estimated 300,000 people attended the canonization ceremony; pilgrims flocked to the Vatican from all over the world. Certainly, in the years since his death, Padre Pio has become one of the world’s most famous and loved saints. Indeed, a survey by the Italian magazine Famiglia Cristiana found that more Italians pray to Padre Pio than to any other figure. 

His feast day is September 23, the anniversary of his death, and he has been declared the patron saint of adolescents, civil defense volunteers, the town of Pietrelcina, and stress relief. His famous words, “Pray, hope, and don’t worry,” have inspired many, as have his prayers, teachings, and great faith. 

San Giovanni Rotondo has become a center of faith and devotion to the friar, attracting over 8 million pilgrims each year. In 1995, construction of the Padre Pio Pilgrimage Church began. Designed by the renowned Italian architect Renzo Piano, the church is made of stone and glass and can hold congregations of 6,000 people. In 2004, after much dedication and patient work, the church finally opened to the public, and Pope John Paul II was there to dedicate the church to the memory of Padre Pio. 

Loved and Beloved 

To mark the 40th anniversary of his death, Padre Pio’s body was exhumed on March 3, 2008, and prepared for display in the crypt of the friary. Much of his body was in near-perfect condition, and one priest remarked that he looked as though he had a manicure. His face, however, had not fared as well and was coated with a silicon mask to preserve his likeness. His body was then laid out in a sepulchre of crystal, marble, and silver. 

On April 24, 2008, Cardinal José Saraiva Martins (then prefect of the Congregation for the Causes of the Saints) celebrated Mass in the Sanctuary of Santa Maria delle Grazie in San Giovanni Rotondo. Thousands arrived for this celebration of the life of Padre Pio. 

Within a week, over 800,000 pilgrims made reservations to view the body of the saint. The exhibition was to last until December 2008, but only 7,200 people were able to view the crystal coffin in a day, causing the organizers to extend the date to September 2009. 

Today, visitors can see Padre Pio in repose in a golden crypt in the Padre Pio Pilgrimage Church. He is dressed in his brown Capuchin habit with a white silk stole embroidered with crystals and golden thread. In his hands, he holds a large wooden cross, a symbol of not only his devotion to God, but also the stigmata by which he was known. 

Here he rests, but the message he spread in life continues to enrapture the world. Padre Pio, the living saint, will forevermore be St. Pio of Pietrelcina. 

This article was adapted from Padre Pio: A Personal Portrait (Franciscan Media).

Padre Pio nurtured his love for the Mother of Jesus from the time he was a child. He would go to the church in Pietrelcina to greet and to pray to Our Lady of Graces.

He always kept a little picture of this Madonna hanging on the wall of his cell. He would glance up at her with gratitude before eating his meager meals, before going to rest, and each time he returned to his cell weary and fatigued after hearing confessions. He was to look up at his little Mother with immense tenderness before closing his eyes in death.

Padre Pio’s love for the Madonna was that of a friend who has faith, who believes and hopes. It was not just sentimental piety expressed in beautiful phrases, sighs, and sobs! His love for the Mother of God was the result of constant meditation, which had become his way of life. Padre Pio contemplated Mary within God’s plan for the salvation of mankind. By being close to her, he felt closer to Jesus. On May 6, 1913, Padre Pio wrote to Fr. Agostino of San Marco in Lamis: “This most tender Mother in her great mercy, wisdom, and goodness, has punished me in a most exalted manner, by pouring so many great graces into my heart that when I am in her presence, or that of Jesus, I am compelled to exclaim, Where am I? Who is near me? I am all aflame. I feel myself held fast and bound to the Son by means of His Mother.”

His love became an endless, ardent, faithful prayer. Who could possibly count the rosaries that he recited over the course of his marvelous life? He was the Friar of the Rosary. He always carried it in his hand or on his arm as if it were a bracelet or a shield. He had other rosaries under the pillow of his bed, on the bureau in his cell. He called the rosary his weapon. One night when he was sick in bed, he was unable to find his rosary beads, so he called Fr. Onorato of San Giovanni Rotondo, saying, “Young man, get me my weapon; give me my weapon.”

The rosary was his favorite prayer; he recited it continually. He devoured the rosary with insatiable hunger. It was the prayer that he had learned from the Virgin herself: the Virgin of Pompeii, Lourdes, and Fatima, as a means of obtaining the conversion and salvation of sinners.

At certain hours, he would walk down the center path of the friary garden, absorbed in his suffering and in his love, while the beads slipped through the fingers of his wounded hands. In his pockets he carried rosary beads, which he would give to anyone who requested a set. Even today, people still hold these dear, saying, “This is a rosary which Padre Pio gave me; I treasure it with all my heart!”

When the friary bell rang and he was able to recite the Angelus, either in the garden, or in church, or at his window, how passionate his voice was! Standing at the altar, reading the Visit to Mary Most Holy, he was rarely able to control his emotions.

He was deeply moved when Beniamino Gigli sang Gounod’s “Ave Maria” for him in the friary garden. He had a weakness for these famous singers; he listened to them with pleasure, and always requested them to sing either a prayer to the Madonna or a Neapolitan song. He was so attentive, and so fascinated, that it was as though he was enjoying a bit of paradise.

Many times he would get up in the wee hours of the night to open the window of his cell because someone outside alone was singing either Shubert’s “Ave Maria” or Gounod’s “Ave Maria” in his honor. He would be enraptured, and at the end he would applaud and shout, “Bravo, bravo…may the Madonna protect and bless you, my son.”

In 1959, the pilgrim statue of Our Lady of Fatima was leaving Cova da Iria, Portugal, in a helicopter to tour the major provinces of Italy, and Padre Pio awaited the coming of the statue of his beloved Madonna. However, at the time, the Padre was suffering from a serious case of pleurisy, which lasted quite some time and had prevented his celebrating Mass since the fifth of May. His inability to celebrate Mass and to hear confessions caused him so much suffering that he anxiously awaited the arrival of Our Lady of Fatima.

Every night from March 31, he would utter a spiritual thought into a microphone, which was connected to the loudspeaker. Thus, he could be heard by all the faithful who were gathered in the church. On the evening of August 4 he announced: “We have but a few hours for our Mother’s visit. Let us not be found empty-handed!” On the evening of August 5, he announced with a voice full of emotion: “In a few minutes our Mother will be in our home…let us open our hearts.”

On the morning of August 6, throngs of people were in the church. The Padre, too, attended, accompanied by his fellow priests. Exhausted, he had to sit down, and remained a long time in front of the image of the Madonna. When the little statue was placed before him for him to kiss, he placed in her hands the rosary that had been a gift from the prayer group of San Casciano in Val di Pesa. That affectionate and touching gesture brought tears to the eyes of all who were present.

When, at last, the helicopter rose from the terrace of the Home for the Relief of Suffering, among the eyes that followed it were his, wet with tears.… He called her by name: “Beautiful little Mother, I have been sick during your visit to Italy; now you are leaving without curing me!” He would have preferred to die rather than remain unable to celebrate Mass and hear confessions. But the moment he lamented her departure, Padre Pio felt a chill through his body. He exclaimed to his fellow priests: “I am cured!”

And so he was. This became known to everyone. Fr. Francesco Napolitano, who had been present at that scene, said that Padre Pio never felt so healthy and strong as he did after the departure of the statue of Our Lady of Fatima. Certain insinuations of the press were addressed when Padre Pio, with his usual childlike simplicity, said to his spiritual director, Fr. Agostino of San Marco in Lamis, “The Madonna came because she wanted to cure Padre Pio!”

For the stigmatist of the Gargano, love for the Madonna meant perpetual imitation of her. If Jesus is the way and the light that leads to the Father, Mary is the way and the light which leads to Jesus. With Mary’s help, and by imitating her virtues, Padre Pio drew ever closer to Jesus, so very close as to be transformed into him.

His imitation of Mary meant, most importantly, imitation of her humility. For him, that humility was a constant interior torment, a slow and painful agony, the anguish of not knowing whether he was corresponding to divine grace.

You could read that deep humility on his face even when he was surrounded by clamorous crowds who believed in him, who trusted in his prayers and expected so many miracles from him every day. He always remained collected. His humility made it possible for him to be serene and dignified as he silently accepted mortification, slander, quarrels, humiliation, and sorrow.

For him, love of the Madonna signified perpetual mortification. He implored his spiritual director to allow him to make a vow of abstinence from fruit on Wednesdays; he also asked him to suggest a means of pleasing the Blessed Mother in all things at all times. Love of the Madonna animated Padre Pio, and inspired him all the more to become an apostle. “I should like to have a voice strong enough to invite all the sinners of the world to love the Madonna.” God heard this sigh of love: He was given a voice that could be heard even when he was silent. It was a voice that touched the depths of people’s hearts and that penetrated their consciences, a voice that tormented and shook those who were dormant. It was a voice that was as terrible as the crashing of thunder in the night, yet as sweet as a caress. It was a voice that was threatening yet inviting, a voice that annihilated yet restored, that consoled and pardoned.

To all those who recommended themselves to his prayers, Padre Pio would say: “Love the Madonna. Recite the rosary.” One day, his guardian asked him how many rosaries he recited daily. Padre Pio answered, “Well, I have to tell my Guardian the truth; I have recited thirty-four!” For him, the rosary was a perpetual meditation on the profound mysteries of Calvary, on Jesus’s plan of salvation, on his sorrowful Mother. Padre Pio was fascinated by the Hail Mary.

Padre Pio was deeply devoted to Our Lady of Pompeii. He never failed to pay her a visit whenever he had the opportunity to go to Pompeii. He went to this mystical sanctuary for the first time in 1901, when he was fourteen years old, accompanied by his teacher and seven schoolmates. As a soldier, during his military service at Naples, he never failed to run down to Pompeii from time to time, to say “hello” to his “beautiful Virgin.”

A few days before his death, on the eve of the fiftieth anniversary of his stigmata, he was offered a bouquet of roses. He was deeply touched, and with a slight gesture toward his picture of the Virgin Mother, he took a rose and asked one of his spiritual children to take it to Pompeii and place it in front of the image of the Madonna.

“That rose,” wrote Fr. Gerardo di Flumeri, “did not wilt; it remained beautiful, fresh, and fragrant until the day of the Padre’s death; then it closed and became a bud again.” That rose is the symbol of the venerated Padre’s love for the “beautiful Virgin,” his beloved “Mother of Pompeii.”

This ability to make contact with the powerful presence of God through prayer enabled him to bless and pray with those in most need, wherever they were in the world.

—from the book Padre Pio: A Personal Portrait 
by Fr. Franceso Napolitano