He was a tireless preacher, missionary and apostle; distinguished as an excellent jurist and statesman, but also as a mystic, theologian, wonderworker and even a warrior. He fought like a lion against his defects and the enemies of Holy Church.
A battle was imminent… evidenced by the roar of canons and the movement of artillery, with the amassing of two hundred thousand men! Advancing at the head of the troops was the Sultan, Mehmed II. Across Europe, they left a wake of destruction, carnage and barbarity. In vain the Vicar of Christ raised the cry of alarm: princes, lords and knights remained deaf to his voice. All had renounced a fight that seemed hopeless.
After the conquest of Constantinople, the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, in 1453, it seemed nothing could stop the Turkish onslaught and the crushing of European Christendom, pitifully debilitated. Undoubtedly, it would be swept away and exterminated after the next blow which, this time, was aimed at Belgrade. Abandoned by the other Christian nations, with their hope fading, the Hungarians were resolved to sign a humiliating truce with the Ottomans. Everyone was despairing… except one man.
When everything seemed lost, God sent a providential man who, by his fiery words and the ardour of his influence, had the mission to reunite the good, do away with their plaints and personal interests and lead them in the defence of the Faith.
Young and successful governor
John was born on June 24, 1386 in Capestrano, in the Abruzzi region, belonging to the then Kingdom of Naples. Having lost his father very early, he lived a quiet and pure childhood with his virtuous mother.
When he reached adolescence, he left for Umbria, the neighbouring province, settling in Perugia, where he studied Civil and Canon Law for close to ten years. There he gave such proofs of his capacity in the practice of jurisprudence that even his old masters were not ashamed to consult him regarding the most complicated cases.
At just over twenty-five years of age, John was appointed governor of that city. Of a natural uprightness, he exercised his new mission in an exemplary fashion: “The poor found support in him, the good people a protector, and troublemakers a stern judge. Under his leadership, the entire province regained a security it had not known for many years. Theft disappeared, crime diminished, and property and the laws were finally respected. Nothing could bring him to compromise with injustice.”1
On one occasion, he was promised a considerable sum of money if he would look favourably on the cause of a powerful lord of the region, ordering the death sentence against his enemy, who was innocent. John was indignant with the proposal and, although he himself was threatened with stabbing, closely examined the case, finally declaring the innocence of the accused.
Despite “small” inconveniences such as this, everything seemed to smile on the young governor. He had a successful life, a good reputation in society, and a promise of marriage with the only daughter of one of the richest men of the city. But, God had reserved greater things for him…
Failure and conversion
Everything began to change when, with dissension arising between the inhabitants of Perugia and some rulers of his birthplace, John was entrusted with negotiating peace. He spared no effort and made many trips to fulfil this duty, but the Umbrians, believing that John was betraying them, decided to seize him.
Confined in the top of a tower, bound with heavy chains and having only bread and water to eat, he thought of a way to escape death… Similar to what St. Joan of Arc would do a few years later, John calculated the height of the edifice, cut a cloth into small strips and tied them together, forming a type of rope by which he began to descend by the outer wall. However, the strips came apart, and he broke his foot in the fall.
The noise of the chains attracted the attention of the guards, who captured him once again, and this time cast him into a subterranean dungeon, where the water reached his knees. Finding himself abandoned by all and meditating on the instability of human things, grace then touched the depth of his soul: St. Francis of Assisi appeared to him and invited him to enter his Order. And John gave his fiat to God.
“After this vision his hair was miraculously cut in the form of a tonsure and he wanted nothing other than to carry out the order from Heaven.”2 John was transformed into a new man.
Entrance into the Seraphic Order and harsh trials
Released from prison after paying an exorbitant ransom, to which he had to commit most of his assets, he made his way to the Franciscan friary of Perugia, asking to be admitted into the Order. He was thirty at the time.
Now, to ensure the authenticity of such a sudden vocation, the Brother Guardian of the community believed that the candidate must be subjected to some trials. To trample human respect underfoot, he ordered John to go through the streets of Perugia, where he was recently held in such honour and distinction, mounted on a donkey, clothed in rags, and bearing a placard on which his sins were enumerated. The children threw stones at him, the people persecuted him with jeers, and he was despised as a lunatic by all.
During this time, as yet another trial, he was twice expelled from the friary, being readmitted under very harsh conditions.
Crushing his pride by such acts of humility, it is little wonder that he attained sublime perfection in the religious life in such a rapid ascent. “The way in which he endured all of these trials allowed him to gain a complete victory over himself. Following this, nothing seemed difficult to him.”3
In the hands of a holy master of novices
One of the greatest blessings for a religious is to have a holy superior. Submitting oneself to someone whose sole objective is to temper the souls of their subordinates, whether by the pleasure of fraternal rapport, or by “correction, a great means of salvation,”4 is in fact a source of incomparable joy.
Thus, with the goal of elevating and uniting him more to God, blessed Onuphrius of Seggiano sought to put him on the path of unpretentiousness by directing harsh reprimands at him every day. St. John always kept a vivid memory, a profound affection and true veneration for that master of novices: “I give thanks to the Lord, he would repeat many times, for having given me such a guide; had he not been so severe with me, I would never have acquired humility and patience.”5
The method achieved effective results. Learning to be a lion against himself, he was transformed into a fiery apostle, whose words captivated multitudes. His mere presence made hell tremble, struck fear in the wicked, and stimulated courage, enthusiasm and unity among the good.
Franciscan reformer and Grand Inquisitor
Obedience led him to travel all over Europe, preaching the Gospel and carrying out duties of the greatest responsibility within the Friars Minor, or in the service of the Universal Church. He was Apostolic Commissary for years, General Visitor of the Order, and Vicar General several times. Together with Pope Martin V, he undertook a great battle to harmonize the Observant and Conventual Brothers under the same rule.
It was not only in his Order that division was spreading. A rising wave of new doctrines ravaged the Church, constituting another battlefield. In addition to the already existing Fraticelli, there arose the followers of John Wycliffe and Jan Hus, deviating from the sound teachings of ecclesiastical tradition, each with their own theories. They even took up arms and, in order to impose their beliefs by force, sowed destruction, panic and carnage wherever they went.
“Nevertheless, amid this night of darkness and bloodshed, facing these fanatical insurrections and prophets of hell, St. John of Capistrano arose like the vanguard of the Pope, as the scourge of hypocrisy and rebellion, and as an impregnable wall of Catholic truth. The Pope had appointed him Grand Inquisitor for all of Christendom.”6
Using a wise method, St. John of Capistrano sought to clarify Catholic doctrine to opponents by organizing public debates, which allowed everyone to express their ideas and to know the truth of the Church, and finally, he pardoned all those who expressed repentance. Extremely kind, he knew how to combine common sense with justice.
By way of illustration, two facts allow us to better understand his modus operandi.
John was in Breslau, Poland, when some heretics, wishing to mock him, staged a parody: pretending to be Catholics, they placed a living boy in a coffin in order to “perform the miracle” of his resurrection. Divinely instructed, John told them in a fearful tone: “May his inheritance be forever with the dead…” They tried in vain to revive the young man; divine revenge had struck him.
Quite different is what occurred in the town of Lach in Moravia, a four days’ journey from Vienna, where the Saint once preached. A couple had had the misfortune of losing their daughter Catherine. After two days of searching, she was found, having drowned in a well. Hearing reports of the wonders wrought by the miracle worker, they lost no time in undertaking the trip, bringing the corpse with them. Coming before the man of God, they knelt at his feet and implored his mercy. John had only touched the girl when she came back to life!
The indefatigable apostolic action of this true “herald of the divine word”7 was such that “when he preached and when he acted, everyone imagined they were seeing another St. Paul.”8 However, all his power of speech and attraction, all his ability to unite, harmonize and captivate, demonstrated over the years, seemed to have been bestowed upon him by Providence for a pivotal moment in the history of Christianity: the siege of Belgrade.
“Our princes waver in spirit”
At the beginning of 1455, the Hungarians had decided to sign a truce with the Ottomans who threatened to invade Europe. They felt abandoned by the rest of the continent. In face of this grave situation, the Papal Legate, Enea Silvio Piccolomini, the future Pope Pius II, wrote to St. John: “Our princes waver in spirit; our kings sleep, the people falter, and Peter’s barque, battered by the waves, is about to be submerged. We have all surrendered to the storm. Only the sacred fire of your word can animate and inflame us. The leaders of nations are fearful and divided; make your voice heard to them.”9
The request was in accord with a prophetic vision, in which God had revealed to Capistrano that his life would not be crowned with the martyrdom of blood, but that of labour and suffering. One day, “as he was celebrating Mass and asking for insights to know where new Maccabees would arise for the salvation of Europe, he heard mysterious voices crying: ‘In Hungary! In Hungary!’ These same voices would also resound in his ears while preaching in a public square.”10
In May of 1455 he left for Budapest, where he managed to draw to his cause one of the most courageous captains of the time: the voivode11 of Transylvania, John Hunyadi.
A bizarre army accompanies him
As word spread that a formidable invading fleet was moving against Belgrade, John of Capistrano set off in its defence, accompanied by Hunyadi and a multitude of the people: peasants and farmers, the poor, students, monks and hermits.
It was a bizarre army that surrounded him. They had no horses, spears or breastplates. “One carried a sword, another a sickle and a rake, or an iron-covered stick; but in everyone there was abnegation and contempt for death.” 12 They placed all their trust in the holy friar, who exhorted them to be steadfast, to fight for the Faith and to martyrdom: “Whether in advance, in defeat, in striking or in being struck, call on the name of Jesus; for salvation is in Him alone.”13
With John Hunyadi as head and strong arm, and the holy friar as heart and soul, this peculiar militia managed to win a first battle on the Danube, but soon the Ottomans regrouped and attacked the walls of Belgrade with redoubled effort.
The sight of the huge army assembled by the enemy was so overwhelming that Hunyadi himself had a moment of hesitation: “My Father, we are vanquished… we are certainly going to succumb.”14 But the Capuchin, interrupting him, answered in an indignant voice: “Fear not, illustrious Lord; God is powerful!”15
The enemy flees from the battlefield
In the early hours of July 21 to July 22, 1456, after fierce fighting, the turning point had come. The Christians, who until then defended the city with stones and arrows, were taken by a sudden inspiration: they tied together wood and kindling, set them on fire and threw the incandescent bundles upon the assailants. These, blinded by smoke and burned by flames, retreated in terror, fleeing and falling into the ditches.
Then, at Capistrano’s command, everyone hailed the name of Jesus and rushed at the enemy ranks as the friar repeated his battle cry: “Victory! Jesus, victory!” Wounded, and seeing his army scattered, the sultan fled the battlefield, leaving behind him twenty-four thousand dead, three hundred guns and many spoils.
Shortly thereafter St. John fell ill. On a Saturday, October 23, 1456, entirely serene, with his eyes fixed on Heaven, he surrendered his soul to the God of victories at the age of seventy. Centuries later, after he was elevated to the honour of the altars, the Church would declare him patron of military chaplains.16
Saint of Marian combativeness
“Humanly speaking, what man was greater than St. John of Capistrano in his time?”, Dr. Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira asked. And he continued: “A Saint, orator, statesman, diplomat, General of a very important religious Order, and finally a warrior, he was outstanding in everything. And the secret of his grandeur is precisely in sanctity, in the assistance of grace that allowed him to overcome the defects of his nature, and to put all the supernatural and natural gifts God had given him to admirable use.”17
A Saint of Marian combativeness, John of Capistrano was an excellent reflection of Her who is described by Scripture as “terribilis ut castrorum acies ordinata”18 (Sgs 6:3).
Working against the internal laxity in his Order, he became its reformer; confronting the heresies that ravaged the Church, he became a theologian and inquisitor; against the threat of the invading Crescent, a fearless warrior. Opposing the vices of society with his fiery oration, he was a new Apostle. And, above all, fighting against himself, he won the greatest battle of all: today the Church recognizes him as a Saint, and the faithful, together with Mary, will honour him for all eternity! ◊
Notes
1 KERVAL, Léon de. Saint Jean de Capistran: son siècle et son influence. Bordeaux-Paris: Chez les Sœurs Franciscaines; Chez Haton, 1887, p.7.
2 Idem, p.10.
3 ROHRBACHER, René François. Vidas dos Santos. São Paulo: Editora das Américas, 1959, v.XVIII, p.417.
4 CLÁ DIAS, EP, João Scognamiglio. Fraternal Correction: an Option or a Duty? In: Heralds of the Gospel. Nobleton. No.13 (Sep-Oct., 2008); p.11.
5 KERVAL, op. cit., p.12.
6 Idem, p.70.
7 Idem, p.47.
8 ROHRBACHER, op. cit., p.417.
9 KERVAL, op. cit., p.133.
10 Idem, p.134.
11 Title granted to those who governed the region of Transylvania, one of the largest in the Kingdom of Hungary.
12 Cf. WEISS, Juan Bautista. Historia Universal. Barcelona: La Educación, 1929, v.VIII, p.76.
13 KERVAL, op. cit., p.138.
14 Idem, p.139.
15 Idem, ibidem.
16 Cf. ST. JOHN PAUL II. Servandus quidem.
17 CORRÊA DE OLIVEIRA, Plinio. Catolicismo e “carolice”: reflexões para a festa de São João de Capistrano [Catholicism and “effeminacy”: Considerations for the feast of St. John of Capistrano]. In: Catolicismo. Campos dos Goytacazes. Ano II. N.15 (mar., 1952); p.4.
18 From the Latin: “terrible as an army in battle array.”
