– Aurelio Porfiri
It has often been said that in the times in which we live, it is difficult to be scandalized by anything. Without any limits to morality, to modesty, it seems that now all is allowed, possible, desirable. And yet, if we observe carefully, we can easily see how there are other impassable limits that are defended by the ideology of the politically correct, which has now become the dominant ideology and from which one cannot escape. If an alternative opinion is attempted, we are accused of being racist, homophobic, fundamentalist, and so on. If we were indignant about the Inquisition (maybe not for very good reasons), we will recognize that this new tribunal of consciences is much more ruthless than any inquisition, and much more unjust, since it is not based on truth but on the ideological constructions by those who move the threads of power.
The only thing that can counteract this crazy ideology is sanctity, the scandal of sanctity. A sanctity against the dominant narrative, sometimes even against the ideology that pervades our brothers in the faith. A sanctity like that of Saint Maria Goretti (1890-1902), a young girl who preferred to die to preserve her virginity and whom the Church celebrates on July 5, the date of her martyrdom. She was the daughter of two poor peasants and had, as was typical at that time, many brothers. Life was difficult, hard. Maria also lost her father when she was ten. She was a very religious girl, of great consolation for the poor mother who had to strive to maintain her family. At one point they were associated with another family, father and son, Giovanni and Alessandro Serenelli. Alessandro was a very robust boy and he fell in love with Maria. At that time unions often occurred at a much earlier age than in our times. But Maria did not want to give in to the requests of Alessandro, who was six years older. Antonio Borrelli and Emilia Flochini thus recount her martyrdom: “On 5 July 1902 the Serenellis and the Gorettis were intent on blistering dried broad beans. Maria, sitting on the landing, looked at the yard and mended an Alexander shirt. At one point he left his job and with a pretext went to the house. Arriving on the landing, he invited Maria to enter, but she did not move: he took her by the arm and with a certain force dragged her into the kitchen, which was the first room after the entrance. The girl understood his intentions and began to say to him: ‘No, no, God does not want, if you do this, go to hell.’ Once again rejected, the young man went on a rampage: taking an awl he had with him, he began to hit her. Maria scolded him, struggled. While he, now blind in his fury, started hitting her belly with violence, she still invoked her mother and pleaded: ‘What are you doing, Alessandro? You go to hell like this ….’ When he saw the patches of blood on her clothes, he left her, but he knew he had mortally wounded her. The story is derived from the deposition loaned by the same Alessandro Serenelli to the Ecclesiastical Court. Marietta’s screams, barely heard by others, made her mother rush, who found her in a pool of blood. She was transported to the Orsenico hospital in Nettuno [not far from Rome]: following the copious loss of blood and the peritonitis occurring, caused by the 14 wounds done with the awl, the doctors did everything to save her. During the night, her parish priest, Don Temistocle Signori, and a family friend, Teresa Cimarelli, watched over her; mother Assunta had been sent away by doctors. The following day she received the medal of the Daughters of Mary, then everything was arranged to have the last Sacraments. Before giving them to her, Don Signori asked Maria if she would forgive her murderer, as Jesus had forgiven on the cross. Her answer was: ‘Yes, for Jesus’ sake I forgive him and I want him to come close to me in Paradise.’ She died at 3.45 pm on Sunday 6 July 1902: she was 11, 8 months and 21 days” (santiebeati.it).
Certainly, the testimony of St Maria Goretti seems very edifying to us, but also distant, since we are all children of the so-called “sexual revolution,” so doing certain “things” when and how you want is not only possible, but also advisable. What was done by Maria Goretti was not against sex, but to put sex in perspective. When we think of the Church as sex-phobic, we make a big mistake. And yet, and I repeat, today we are all children of an age so different from that of Maria Goretti and we live a distorted relationship with sexuality, in which everything seems allowed, promoted by the great dominant narrative. This is why the scandal of authentic sanctity, like that of Maria Goretti, allows us to think of ourselves and our sins hoping one day to be able to dominate the disordered inclinations to the greater good. In the specific case of Mary we do not speak of course only of a sin, but also of a crime, inasmuch as Alessandro tried to rape her. But even for him, after the grave fault, there was atonement: “Alessandro was tried and sentenced to thirty years in prison, three of which were in special isolation; he was not given a life sentence because he was a minor. The third year of segregation, in December 1906, had a dream: he thought he saw Maria, in a field of lilies, coming towards him and holding out those flowers. Every time he took one – a total of fourteen, like the shots he gave to her – they turned into tongues of fire. The next morning he turned to the prison chaplain: that was the beginning of his conversion. After his sentence was shortened to twenty-seven years for good behavior, he decided to go to Mother Assunta to ask her forgiveness: scholars attest to Christmas 1934. She accepted: she could not do otherwise, since her daughter had forgiven him first. Then they went together to the Communion in the Midnight Mass. Alessandro then worked as a gardener, also in various Capuchin convents. He died on May 6, 1970, aged 88, now reconciled with his past.”
Alessandro Serenelli, a few years before he died, wrote his spiritual testament: “I’m almost 80 years old, close to finishing my day. Taking a look at the past, I recognize that in my early youth I entered a false path: the way of evil, which led me to ruin. I saw through the press, the shows and the bad examples that most young people follow without giving themselves a thought: I too did not worry. I had believers and good Christians near me, but I didn’t care, blinded by a brute force that pushed me on a bad road. In my twenties I consumed a crime of passion of which today I am horrified by the memory. Maria Goretti, now a saint, was the good angel that providence had put forth before my steps to save me. I still have her words of reproach and forgiveness in my heart. She prayed for me, interceded for her killer. Thirty years of prison followed. If I had not been a minor, I would have been sentenced to life. I accepted the deserved sentence, willingly: I understood my guilt. Little Maria was really my light, my protector; with her help I acted well in the twenty-seven years in prison and tried to live honestly when the society accepted me again among its members. The sons of St Francis, the Minor Capuchins of the Marche [a region in central Italy], with seraphic charity welcomed me among them not as a servant, but as a brother. I’ve been living with them for 24 years. And now I look serene to the moment to be admitted to the vision of God, to re-embrace my loved ones, to be close to my patron angel and to her dear mother, Assunta. Those who will read this letter of mine want to draw the happy teaching of escaping the evil and of always following the good, even as children. They have to think that religion with its precepts is not something one can do without, but it is the true comfort, the only sure way in all circumstances, even the most painful ones in life. Peace and love.”
There is a lot of pain in these words, but a pain illuminated by a serene light. God awaits us all, sinners, criminals, wrongdoers, but leaves us free. He awaits our decision because he supremely respects our freedom. He patiently awaits our first step.
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