Pure in Heart | St. Maria Goretti
It is no secret we live in trying times.
The devil is actively targeting the evil in our world, and one of his favorite tricks is to attack the deepest desire we have as sons and daughters of God: to be loved—to experience love tangibly. To be seen, appreciated, held, and known.
Our world has been overly-sexualized since the Fall, and we see evidence of this throughout history. The lust and sin of Sodom and Gomor′rah. The years of mass abduction and rape justified as “spoils of war.” The sexual revolution of the 1960s and 70s. And today, the growing desperation of sex trafficking, pornography, and utter destruction of masculinity and femininity.
The world has not known peace from sexual temptation since the Garden, and it won’t until the Second-Coming. So our question becomes: how can we remain virtuous within a tempted world, hoping to experience the peace of the Garden one day? Today, we look at St. Maria Goretti.
St. Maria Goretti died a martyr in 1902, at the young age of eleven. You may have heard the story of her death: how she bravely fought off the 20-year-old man who tried to rape her, boldly stated she would rather die than be impure, and suffered years of inappropriate comments and unwanted sexual advances from her attacker.
Yes, St. Maria was strong in her desire to remain “pure” and—thanks be to God—was able to fight off her attacker and die a martyr of the faith. But contrary to what you may have heard, I don’t think that’s what made her a saint.
Did she receive grace from it? Absolutely. Was her suffering redemptive? I don’t doubt it.
But I don’t think it was her ability to fight off her attacker that made her a saint. It was her forgiveness afterwards.
You see, after being stabbed over ten times by her abuser, Maria was rushed to a hospital. Her wounds were too great to save her life, but she was able to live about two days after the attack, and during this time, she forgave her abuser.
The man that caused her so much pain.
The man that tormented her, hurt her, and broke her heart over and over again.
The man that made her feel helpless, used, and weak.
This man, Alessandro, had a radical conversion while in prison for his sins. As soon as he was released, he rushed to Maria’s mother, begging her for forgiveness, and joined the Brothers of St. Francis Capuchins, living out the rest of his life in the grace of St. Maria’s kindness.
Before his death, he wrote a letter about his spiritual journey, and the grace-filled little girl he knew.
“At the age of 20, I committed a crime of passion, the memory of which still horrifies me today. Maria Goretti, now a saint, was my good angel whom God placed in my path to save me. Her words both of rebuke and forgiveness are still imprinted in my heart. She prayed for me, interceding for her killer… Little Maria was truly my light, my protectress… May all who read this letter of mine desire to follow the blessed teaching of avoiding evil and following the good. May all believe with the faith of little children that religion with its precepts is not something one can do without. Rather, it is true comfort, and the only sure way in all of life’s circumstances—even in the most painful.”
—Alessandro Serenelli, Macerata, Italy, 5 May 1961
Not once did he reflect on her ability to fight him.
Not once did he mention her ability to remain “pure.”
Not once did he mention her virginity.
St. Maria Goretti’s legacy is not how hard she fought while someone tried to rape her. It’s in the moments afterwards, when, even as she watched her life slip away—all the dreams, hopes, and plans a little girl should have—she thought of the man who attacked her, and how much he must be hurting too.
When facing sexual temptation and the devastation of our world, I encourage you to choose compassion over vindication; mercy over judgment; love over hate. And to always, always, forgive those who have sexually wounded us in the past. Because without purging our hearts of these sins—whether self-inflicted or completely out of our control—we have no chance of being pure in heart, like St. Maria Goretti.
“Maria's forgiveness saved me.” —Alessandro Serenelli, Murderer of St. Maria Goretti