This piece from The Pillar does something rare in religious journalism: it refuses to sanitize the messy reality of holiness while simultaneously dissecting a Vatican in active flux. It argues that the most profound witness to faith often emerges not from perfect health, but from the very cracks where human suffering and divine grace collide. By juxtaposing the 13th-century life of Christina the Astonishing with modern crises in the Central African Republic and Notre Dame, the editors suggest a terrifying continuity: the Church's struggle to care for its most vulnerable is as old as the institution itself.
The Saint Who Smelled Sin
The article opens by introducing St. Christina Mirabilis, a figure from 12th-century Liege whose life defies easy categorization. "Christina the Astonishing wasn't a magician," the piece notes, immediately grounding her story in historical reality rather than myth. The editors recount how she was presumed dead after an epileptic seizure, only to rise from her coffin during Mass and claim she had seen Hell and Purgatory. Her subsequent behavior—levitating to rafters, smelling sin on congregants, and hurling herself into icy rivers—is presented not as a miracle to be worshipped blindly, but as the erratic output of a "mentally unwell" woman.
The Pillar makes a crucial distinction here, one that resonates with historical accounts of Beguines, lay religious women who often walked a similar line between mysticism and social marginalization. The piece argues, "She was mentally unwell, that's obvious. And I think God worked through that — not by healing her, but by letting her life become a witness to faith, hope, and charity, even in ways that were disturbing, or distressing, and sometimes astonishing." This reframing is powerful because it challenges the modern urge to view sanctity as a state of emotional equilibrium. Instead, it posits that grace can operate through brokenness.
"Christina has the advantage of being long dead. That means her rough edges can be viewed gauzily as 'eccentricities,' and romanticized into markers of sanctity. It's not so easy to do that with mental illness in the people we love, or in ourselves."
The commentary suggests that while we can admire Christina from a distance, applying this lens to contemporary suffering is far more difficult. The piece notes that her eventual peace came only when she entered a convent and submitted to obedience, finding stability in routine. This historical detail adds depth: it implies that structure, not just inspiration, was the key to her survival. Critics might argue that romanticizing mental illness risks minimizing the need for medical intervention, but the article carefully avoids this trap by explicitly stating she was "unwell" and that her story is a mystery of Providence rather than a prescription for behavior.
A Church in Crisis: From Bangui to Notre Dame
Shifting from hagiography to hard news, The Pillar turns its gaze to the current administration of the Vatican. The editors highlight a private audience between Pope Leo and Cardinal Dieudonné Nzapalainga of the Central African Republic (CAR), noting that "something is going on" regarding rumors of a fiscal crisis and a request for resignation. The piece observes that this comes shortly after the pontiff restructured CAR's dioceses to reduce Nzapalainga's oversight, suggesting a pattern of tightening control.
The article connects these administrative moves to broader questions of governance. When Pope Leo appointed Sister Alessandra Smerilli as head of a Vatican dicastery but paired her with a cardinal "pro-prefect," the editors ask whether this signals a new formalization of which departments require ordained leadership. "It also raises questions about whether Leo might eventually formalize a working list that seems to exist of dicasteries requiring a bishop in charge, and those which don't," the piece argues. This is a sharp observation on the evolving nature of church bureaucracy.
However, the most damning section concerns the quality of care for abuse survivors. Citing a new report from the Catholic Standards Safeguarding Agency in England and Wales, The Pillar reports that a survivor-centered approach is "exceptional rather than assured." The editors do not mince words: the agency's report "paints a picture of the Catholic Church in England and Wales lamentably failing to adequately care for people abused within it."
The coverage then pivots to the University of Notre Dame, where recent third-party investigations have uncovered a "predatory pattern of behavior" by former rectors and new allegations against current staff. The piece highlights a critical gap in church policy: while child abuse has been addressed with specific protocols, "the sexual abuse of adults in ecclesial contexts... is not fully appreciated, and not fully addressed." This distinction is vital, as these cases often involve "spiritualized or vulnerable conversations" that are harder to investigate than clear-cut criminal acts.
"In people doing strange things — things even which cause pain, or frustration, or something close to despair — the witness of grace might still be there too."
The editors weave this insight back into their analysis of institutional failure. Just as Christina's suffering was real and often misunderstood by her contemporaries, the suffering of abuse survivors today is frequently obscured by bureaucratic inertia. The piece suggests that the Church's current inability to protect adults in vulnerable situations mirrors its historical difficulty in understanding those who are mentally or spiritually distressed.
Bottom Line
The strongest element of this coverage is its refusal to separate spiritual history from institutional reality, using the life of a 13th-century mystic to illuminate modern failures in safeguarding and governance. Its biggest vulnerability lies in the sheer breadth of topics covered; the jump from St. Christina to Vatican fiscal politics risks feeling disjointed without the explicit thematic thread of "suffering and response" that holds it together. Readers should watch how Pope Leo's new appointments play out, as they may signal a fundamental shift in who holds power within the hierarchy—and whether that shift will finally address the systemic gaps exposed by the Notre Dame and England reports.