The Patron of the Impossible: St Rita of Cascia

At a time when domestic abuse is rife and people are losing hope, there is a saint for both situations. Günther Simmermacher looks at St Rita of Cascia.

St Rita of Cascia at a glance

Name at birth: Margherita Lotti
Born: c.1381 in Roccaporena (near Cascia), Italy
Died: May 22, 1457 (aged 75–76) in Cascia, Italy
Beatified: 1626
Canonised: 1900
Feast: May 22
Attributes: Forehead wound, roses, bees, grapevines, figs
Patronages: Hopeless causes, marital problems, domestic abuse, mothers, sickness, wounds, sterility

You would think that a mother praying for her sons to die, and having these prayers answered, might disqualify her from being the patron saint of parenting, but St Rita of Cascia can claim mitigating circumstances.

But let us start at the beginning. St Rita was born into a family of minor nobility in around 1381 — most dates in her life are guesswork — in the village of Roccaporena near Cascia in the central Italian region of Umbria. Her devoutly Catholic parents, a couple known for acts of charity, named her Margherita, of which the name Rita is the diminutive form.. It is said that the day after her baptism, five white bees were flying around her cot, entering and exiting her mouth without stinging or choking the infant. Her parents took that to be a sign that their child had special spiritual gifts.

Growing up, Rita was devoted to the Christian faith, and the girl’s great wish was to become a nun. Instead her parents arranged a marriage to the wealthy Paolo Mancini when Rita was 12 years old (that was not an unusual marriage age in a time when life expectancy was much lower than it is now). Paolo was a nasty piece of work. Coming from a family that maintained vendettas, he was a rough and dissolute man. For several years Rita had to suffer physical and emotional abuse, and Paolo’s infidelities.

With nowhere to go, Rita stuck it out. Over time Paolo became gentler, thanks to Rita’s model of compassion, kindness and patience, and it seems that they really loved each other. Paolo even renounced his part in the running feud between the Mancini and Chiqui families. Rita bore two sons, Giovanni Antonio and Paolo Maria, whom she raised in the faith.

Paolo Sr might have converted from his wicked ways, but his past caught up with him when he was stabbed to death, probably by a member of the Chiqui family. After 18 years of marriage, Rita was a widow. And yet, at her husband’s funeral she publicly forgave those who had betrayed and killed Paolo, and whose identity she refused to reveal.

A mother’s dilemma

Rita might have extended a pardon, but Paolo’s brother Bernardo was set on revenge. Over time, Bernardo put it into the minds of Rita’s sons that their father’s murder must be avenged. Rita was faced with a dilemma: if the young men were to commit murder in retaliation for their father’s death, their souls would be lost. So she prayed earnestly that God remove the boys from this life of vendetta and violence, even by taking them. The following year both sons died from dysentery, before they could commit the mortal sin of murder. For Rita, losing her sons was a heartbreaking but necessary sacrifice. Praying for their premature death, and thus assuring their salvation, was an act of love.

Now widowed and childless, Rita sought to finally realise her desire for the consecrated life. So she applied to enter the local Augustinian monastery of St Mary Magdalene — whose superiors turned Rita away because of her association with the scandalous feud (some say it was because the convent accepted only virgins, and Rita obviously was not one).

With persistence, Rita eventually wore the superiors down, and they set her a challenge: “Bring the family vendetta to an end, and then you can join us.” Rita set to work at reconciling the Mancini and Chiqui families — and succeeded, crediting the intercession of her three patron saints: St Augustine of Hippo, St Nicholas of Tolentino and St John the Baptist. Finally, at the age of 36 and six years after she was widowed, she could become a nun.

Stigmata

Rita would remain at the convent for the remaining 40 or so years of her life. But her adventures were not yet over. Rita had a particular devotion to the Passion of Christ, and often would pray: “Please let me suffer like you, Divine Saviour.” On Good Friday 1442, when she was 60, Rita was meditating before a crucifix in the convent. Suddenly a wound appeared on her forehead, as if a thorn from Jesus’ terrible crown had struck her. She would retain the partial stigmata for the rest of her life. It would be visible even after her death at each of the three occasions when her incorrupt body was exhumed, most recently in 1930.

Because the bleeding wound spooked others, Rita spent much of her time in seclusion. The wound disappeared once, however, when Rita joined her fellow Sisters on a pilgrimage to Rome in the Holy Year 1450. On her return to Cascia, the wound reappeared.

In her last months, Rita was bedridden with tuberculosis. One day she asked a visiting cousin to bring a rose from the garden of her old home. But there was a snag: it was January, the middle of winter when roses don’t bloom. When the cousin passed the snow-covered garden, she saw one lone rose — in bloom.

Death and Devotion

Rita died a few months later, on May 22, 1457. Tradition records her first miracle soon after. Paying his respects at Rita’s very simple coffin, a carpenter who had been paralysed by a stroke exclaimed: “If only I were well, I would have prepared a place more worthy of you.” Instantly, he was healed.

Soon, a mostly regional devotion to Rita spread. It became more widely popular after Pope Urban VIII, the former bishop of nearby Spoleto, beatified her in 1622. She was canonised by Pope Leo XIII on May 24, 1900.

First St Rita’s popularity was due to her saintly patience and motherly sacrifice, but especially in Spain, she became a much-loved intercessor in cases that are considered hopeless. It is for this that she has become one of the most popular saints in many parts of the world.

And then there are the bees, five of which explored Rita’s mouth when she was a little baby. Some 200 years after her death, a colony of bees moved into a wall between the saint’s cell in Cascia and her (now previous) tomb. Remarkably, they have no sting. And about 350 years later, the colony is still there today.

St John Chrysostom once said: “The bee is more honoured than other animals, not because it labours, but because it labours for others.” This is also true for the life of St Rita of Cascia.