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Letter #57, 2024, Sun, Nov 24: Martyr, 2[2024-11-24][Engleză]The final prayer of Fr. Miguel Pro, S.J., just before his execution in Mexico City, Mexico, at the age of 36, on November 23, 1927, 97 years ago yesterday*** Letter #57, 2024, Sunday, November 24: Martyr, #2 Here is the second part of the story of Blessed Fr. Miguel Pro, S.J., who was executed in Mexico on false charges on November 23, 1927, at the age of 36 97 years ago yesterday. This second part covers the last 16 months of Fr. Pros life, during 1926 and 1927 in Mexico. The story is continued from Letter #54 (link), emailed on Saturday, November 23, 2024.RM Support the Moynihan Letters Father Pro of Mexico: The Conclusion (link) by Mary E. Gentges Miguel Pros entire life had been a preparation for the next 16 months when he would outwit the police and unselfishly give of himself for souls. New in the country, he had the immediate advantage of being unknown to the 10,000 secret agents in Mexico City. While other priests had been exiled, executed, or forced into hiding, he took on a heavy workload. It is said he did the work of seven priests. Father Pro celebrated Mass in the homes of faithful Catholics; he witnessed marriages, baptized babies and took the sacraments to the sick. He was constantly occupied in hearing confessions. It gave him great joy to reconcile sinners to the Church and to assist the dying. He gave conferences and retreats, and also taught a band of 150 select youths to go about giving lectures. He writes: I have what I call Eucharistic Stations where I go around every day to distribute Holy Communion. To baffle the agents who go about here like night birds, I go some days to one place and other days to another, with an average of 300 Communions daily. One First Friday the number reached 1,200! He passed under the scrutiny of the police in a variety of guises: I look so much like a student that no one can possibly guess my real profession. Day and night I go from place to place doing good, sometimes with a beautiful police dog following at my heels, sometimes riding my brothers bicycle to which I owe a bruise on the arm and a bump on my head. How did the sickly Father Pro do it all? His superiors, it seems, had sent him home to die of his ailments. Yet the assurance he had received at Lourdes was real. After eight years of agonizing daily attacks, the ulcer had subsided to an occasional fluttering of wings, and his health held until the end. He wondered himself, How do I stand it It proves that without the fullness of the Divine Element which uses me merely as an instrument Id have made a mess of everything. I know that of themselves my person and results are worthless. He adds, Not I, but the grace of God in me. Boycott In response to the anti-religious laws the League for the Defense of Religious Liberty organized a boycott, encouraging Catholics to buy only necessities, abstain from all luxuries and entertainments, and withdraw their funds from banks. A variety of leaflets, promoting the boycott and proclaiming the Kingship of Christ, flowed from secret printing presses. Calles executed League members at every opportunity. In life, or in death, the slogan of these confessors of the Faith was Long live Christ the King! Father Pros brothers, Humberto and Roberto (both in their early twenties and living at home with their father and sister Ana Maria), were active in the League. They gave religious conferences and helped priests who were in hiding. Father Pro had his pockets filled with League leaflets once when he was picked up by the police. On the way to the station he distracted the driver of the car while he surreptitiously threw the incriminating leaflets out the window! In October of 1926, on the Feast of Christ the King, over 200,000 pilgrims defied the anti-religious laws and assembled at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Father Pro was deeply moved to see people of all classes marching on bloodied bare feet, or inching forward on their knees. As the singing was rather subdued, he elbowed his way into the crowd and loudly intoned a hymn. In minutes thousands were singing in unison, proclaiming Christ their King. There is no doubt about it, he wrote, the whole of Mexico is Catholic! Our Lady of Guadalupe is Queen of the Mexicans! He continues, The number of martyrs increases day by day. I hope I shall have the luck to be among the first, or among the last, but to be one of the number. If so, prepare your petitions for Heaven! His Poor People Father Pros heart went out to the poor, to those living in dire misery because their breadwinner had been imprisoned for the Faith. Though begging humiliated him, for his poor people he begged homes and provisions, and was soon supporting a hundred families. He would give his own coat to a poor man. Or he might be seen laboring along in the heat carrying a heavy sack of flour, or boarding a bus with a halfdozen live chickens in his arms. He organized a dozen volunteers to help with this work. Officially I call them Investigation and Commissariat Section but between ourselves they are beggars on the go! I am in close touch with what we read of in the lives of the Saints (Oh, dont take me for one of them!) for without knowing who the benefactor is I receive at one time 50 kilos of sugar, or biscuits, coffee, chocolate, rice, and even wine Ordinarily my purse is as lean as the spiritual part of Calles, but this causes me no anxiety, for the Heavenly Procurator is so generous . I see the hand of God in everything and almost fear they wont kill me in these adventures, which will be a fiasco for me who sigh to go to Heaven and play arpeggios on the mandolin with my guardian angel. He found himself taking in abandoned babies. Once as he had paused for a railroad crossing someone slipped a baby onto the back seat of his car! He describes how he took a baby to its foster parents: I made the mistake of putting the baby by my side on the car seat. At the first jolt the baby bounced up and had I not caught it on the fly I should have had to take it to the cemetery instead! Nobody knows where I live. I receive letters, and beans for my poor people, at four different addresses. I have even heard confessions in prisons. Really, I go there more often than anywhere else because they are overflowing with Catholics. I take food, blankets, money. If the guards only knew what sort of bird passes right under their noses! Pursued Twice Father Pro was arrested, but released. Without ever denying his priesthood, he could calmly make witty remarks to divert his interrogators, as on the day when two policemen stopped him on the street. He was so relaxed that they began to have second thoughts. When he took them into a cafe and treated them, joking all the while, they decided they had the wrong man after all! By February of 1927 there was a reward out for his arrest; traps awaiting him everywhere. He approached a house to say Mass and saw two policemen guarding the door. To go in was very risky. To turn back was to desert the faithful, and to my mind a disgrace. I pulled myself together, and coolly walked up to the house. With an air of being in on the secret I jotted down the house number in a notebook, drew back the lapel of my coat as if to show a detectives badge, and said, Theres a cat bagged here. Convinced that I was a secret agent, they let me go in. I ran up the inside stairs thinking, Now there is a cat bagged here!' After conferring with the faithful, Father Pro left as he had entered, and received a superb military salute from the policemen! Early one morning he was distributing Holy Communion at one of his Eucharistic Stations when a servant ran in shouting, The cops! Father Pro calmly told everyone to scatter through the house. He hid the Blessed Sacrament over his heart, and, attired in cap and overcoat, went to the door. The police took him to be the owner of the house. They insisted that there was public worship inside and were determined to search the premises. Father Pro told them to go right ahead, and to prevent greater harm he accompanied them through the house. Finally, he left them, saying that if it wasnt for an appointment with his girlfriend he would stay until they seized the insolent priest who made sport of such keen policemen. And he went off on his rounds distributing Holy Communion! At times, for his own safety, Father Pros superiors ordered him into hiding. He obeyed, remarking, Obedience is better than sacrifice, but it was a heavy cross for him to hide when he knew that souls needed him. He pleaded with his superiors. They fear for my life. Would it not be to save it if I gave it for my brethren? Certainly we must not give it foolishly. But the most they can do is kill me, and that only in Gods good time . Permit me to stay at my post until this persecution passes. Though he desired martyrdom, at the same time he had no intention of willingly deserting his flock, and he took every means to preserve his life. Retreats in Unusual Surroundings Toward evening a man in a business suit and straw hat might be seen entering an office building. It was Father Pro coming to give a retreat to office employees after their days work. The retreatants knelt among the typewriters, unafraid, while agents prowled in the street below. In his lighthearted fashion, Father Pro described another retreat given to chauffeurs (taxi or truck drivers). He called them the people of pro, (A pun, for pro means worth). Imagine fifty noisy chauffeurs, fine types with their rough unpolished manners. To my astonishment I found that the language of the common people flowed quite naturally from my lips. I thought I had forgotten it in the sixteen years since I left the mines, but strike me pink! it was as though I had left but yesterday. I gave these conferences in a large yard with the usual junk lying around, myself disguised as a mechanic in cover-alls with a cap drawn down to my eyebrows, and giving a spiritual shove to my responsive audience. God bless all the chauffeurs of the world! Next, he tackled some eighty sophisticated professional women, influenced by modern thinking, They feared nothingnot even the devil, denied the existence of hell, and refused to submit to the sweet truths of our religion. I strained every nerve, but was more than repaid by seeing them all receive the sacraments. He added that it was not anything of himself, but the grace of God that worked in these souls. Blessed be mi Padre Dios Who is so very good! This loving term, my Father God was his life-long expression. Depth of Soul The witty Father Pro was deeply spiritual, and his true holiness was unconsciously revealed in unguarded moments. A young girl who sought him to deliver a message related, I found him with his hands joined and his eyes cast down. His whole being was transformed by prayer and recollection. I quite forgot my message. I fell on my knees and went to confession. Father Pro imitated the hidden sacrifices of St. Therese of Lisieux, whom he greatly admired. When he was slandered, he refused to defend himself, imitating Our Lord by his silence. Often he was too busy helping souls to stop for food or sleep; but in his incessant activity he never neglected prayer, the source of his strength. In his dealings with souls there was never a joking word. Speaking of temptations against purity, he said, Nothing is so noble as the terrible struggle known to God alone and to the soul I do not dread it; the Blessed Virgin is so kind to me, so motherly. His flock cherished his words: I endeavor to do all my actions in the presence of God, my Father . I am ready to give my life for souls and want nothing for myself . When a heart has once drawn its sap from the wood of the Cross, it can no longer turn away . Do you know where I learned to love? In the Heart of Jesus. If life daily becomes harder and more burdensome, a thousand times blessed be He Who wills it so! If life becomes harder, love also grows stronger. Heart of Jesus I love Thee, but increase my love; Heart of Jesus, I trust in Thee, but strengthen my hope; Heart of Jesus I give Thee my heart, but sink it so deeply in Thine that it will never break away; Heart of Jesus I am all Thine, but keep my promise that I may redeem it unto the utter sacrifice of my life. Toward the Supreme Sacrifice As the months wore on, Father Pro lived under a continual strain, criss-crossing the city, eyeing those who eyed him, with threats at every turning. At times he sighed for the quiet and order of the Jesuit houses; but he hung on, always marveling at the special care and graces of God, and could still find a humorous way to describe his life: Here things are getting on like a house of fire! Christians are dispatched to heaven for the slightest trifle. When one of us leaves the house, instead of saying adios, we make an Act of Contrition. We have officially said goodbye to each other until we are reunited in heaven. But instead of weeping we have uncontrollable fits of laughter. Wouldnt it be wonderful to go straight to heaven for so noble a cause! We are seven and have just five chairs, four plates, four knives, eight bedsteads, three mattresses, and a broom. It is all loaned, but really it is a gift because it is certain neither we nor our heirs will return anything. In three recent police raids they left us without even a cuspidor, but as that article is not necessary to go to heaven, we gave it up without complaint! In October of 1927, that bloody October when 300 citizens were slaughtered in its first week, Father Pro give a Triduum at Toluca for the feast of Christ the King. He was amazed at the numbers of people who risked detection by the police to attend the exercises, waiting patiently for Mass as he heard long lines of penitents. At times up to 200 stout workmen would be crammed into the three little rooms where he preached. Disguising a postcard in the jargon of a salesman, and signing it the Miner, he wrote to a priest friend, I have come here to sell my wares I am rather tired, because my sale was more of a clearance than I expected. As Father Pro viewed the reign of terror with its tortures and killings he had to admit, I am broken, more and more broken by this barbariousness! Poor, poor people! As he looked at the hopeless plight of his people, he longed the more to suffer himself as a victim for them. Though he humbly felt himself unworthy, he often asked his friends to pray that God would grant him the grace of martyrdom for the cause of the Faith in Mexico. Sursa: www.InsideTheVatican.com Contor Accesări: 113, Ultimul acces: 2026-05-11 00:06:57
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