Today is the feast of St. Gaspar del Bufalo, founder of the Society of the Precious Blood.

No surprise that a Catholic saint has an interesting life story – his is one, not well-enough known in this country, except among those who have been touched by the various arms of the Society.

His life:

During his exile, Gaspar’s compassion deepened. Though he had been about works of mercy for most of his life, in the silence of his cell this work was clearly defined by the Precious Blood of Christ. In the solitude of exile, the vision became clear: to continue the works of mercy and the evangelization in the context of community. He would join forces with other men and women united in the bond of charity to touch others with the redeeming grace of the blood of Jesus.

Napoleon was defeated in January 1814 and Gaspar was free to return to Rome to begin his mission as apostle of the Precious Blood. He had spent four years in exile and imprisonment, but his enthusiasm had not waned. He came back to a city, however, that was in chaos. In the aftermath of Napoleons occupation, the Church in Rome was experiencing great trial. So the pope appointed Gaspar to preach missions throughout the city and the surrounding countryside for the spiritual renewal of the people. In response to the Holy Father’s request, Gaspar drew upon the rich resources of two of his mentors, Frs. Albertini and Bonnani, to begin the society of apostolic life.

It was Gaspar’s vision to wed the spirituality of the Precious Blood with the concept of a community for the apostolic works of mercy. This sacred union gave birth to the Society of the Precious Blood that would "proclaim peace through the blood of the cross."

St. Gaspar brought devotion to the Blood of Christ out of the sanctuary and into the streets. His preaching was rooted in the saving act of Christ on the cross and so he carried the crucifix close to his heart. Indeed, the mission cross became the symbol of the newly formed community.

Gaspar’s words and witness became the wings to lift the burden of sin from the hearts of his listeners. He called people to reconciliation; to restore the right relationship with God and others. The power of Gaspar’s presence and preaching was found most dramatically in his work with the bandits.

More

John XXIII has a great devotion to St. Gaspar, and indeed visited his tomb in January of 1963. Here is the text of his Apostolic Letter of 1960 promoting the devotion to the Most Precious Blood of Christ, which contains a few sidenotes on devotion and piety that might be of interest.

Here’s an interesting history of his feast, and the many dates on which it’s been celebrated.

I’d never heard of him ’til we moved here, and then he was all over the place. I wrote about it here, in connection with the story of our veneration of St. Gaspar’s tomb in Rome. The finding of which was an adventure in itself – not unusual in Rome. I’ll just reprint it here:

I think we first ran across him not long after we moved up here, and we were driving around western Ohio, looking at the famed Cross-tipped churches. We came upon this enormous establishment, plunked down in the middle of farmland, rising from the plain. Take a look. It turned out to be the former St. Charles Seminary of the Society, now a retirement home for members – quiet and largely empty – a testimony to the vigor of former times. In the chapel was a relic – a portion of St. Gaspar’s forearm. What was this place? What was this order? Who was this saint?

So we studied up and familiarized ourselves with the rather remarkable life of St. Gaspar, and Michael has some stories of prayers answered that he chalks up to the intercession of the saint. So, in visiting the Trevi fountain, he knew that St. Gaspar’s shrine was somewhere around there, and even thought he knew the name of the church – S. Marie de Trevi, naturally enough. But where was it?

(a common question in Rome. I know it should be around here? Where is it? What’s the name of this street anyway?)

As we got to the fountain, we looked around – there was a church directly in front, but not the right place. Leaving that church, we saw two police officers in those incredibly bulky-looking Italian police uniforms. Michael asked if they knew – Gaspar del Bufalo? Maria de Trevi? Chiesa? They shrugged, looked at each other and waved in a generally southerly direction. They had no idea, but thought it might be that way.

So we walked, coming across, I think, the old site of the North American College (or maybe that was on another walk – I’m not sure) in the process, and one or two other interesting churches. But no Gaspar. Finally, we turned a corner and found ourselves looking at the Trevi from the opposite direction from which we started – and there it was. About 50 meters, I think, from the spot where we’d been talking to the police. Grazie, guys. Know your beat. Impressive.

It’s small, as you can tell from the pictures – as so many of these Roman churches are, with facades that don’t seem to indicate much, but which, once you step inside, are bursting with decoration, art and energy. The HQ of the Society was here for many years. To the left is the shrine containing the remains of St. Gaspar – it’s in the typical sleeping-under-the-altar style, but a little different than others because the figure of St. Gaspar is some sort of metal (in or under which I suppose the remains are encased), and it’s not behind glass – it’s right there, so that as you kneel in prayer, you can touch – if you want to. Which, of course, Joseph did, as Michael told him that this was a "real superhero" – and if you read the stories of St. Gaspar’s life, you’ll see what he meant.

So, full circle in a sense. St. Gaspar has followed us around for six years now, and we, at the end of our Roman journey, followed him to where his earthly body rests.

St. Blog’s has it’s own CPPS blogging father, but his site seems to be down – I don’t know if it’s the entire domain or what. But check it out when it re-emerges. Fr. Keyes is a long-time blogger , and very thoughtful.