It is my sad duty to announce the death on Jan. 22, 2019 of the Most Rev. John Mortimer Smith, Bishop Emeritus (2010-2019) and Ninth Bishop of the Diocese of Trenton (1997-2010), former Coadjutor Bishop of Trenton (1995-1997), former Bishop of the Diocese of Pensacola-Tallahassee in Florida (1991-1995) and former Auxiliary Bishop of the Archdiocese of Newark (1988-1991). Bishop Smith died in Morris Hall Meadows, Lawrenceville, after a long illness. He was 83 years old.
I have said it before and I say it again. There is one thing we all have in common, my brothers and sisters. Regardless of our race or place of natural origin; regardless of our religion or absence of it; regardless of our age or status or station in life: God gave us the gift of life which our mothers carried until the day of our birth. We were allowed to live!
José Sánchez del Río was born in the western Mexican state of Michoacán de Ocampo on March 28, 1913. When the Cristero War erupted in 1926, he begged his mother to allow him to join his brothers as a soldier supporting Catholic efforts. She refused but he persisted. Even at his tender age, José possessed a remarkable faith. When his mother relented, the boy performed menial tasks for the Cristeros forces. His dedication to Christ the King — mature beyond his years — never wavered. Despite governmental prohibition of the public practice of religion, José attended Mass whenever possible, received Holy Communion and never hesitated to proclaim his faith.
There are all kinds of “movements” in the Church that people join: the Catholic Charismatic Movement, the Legion of Mary, Catholic Action, Cursillo, Catholic Athletes for Christ and so on. Some large and international, others smaller and regional, people of all ages are drawn to the special things that these movements represent. The Focolare Movement was founded in 1943 in Trent, Italy, by a Catholic lay woman named Chiara Lubich. The world was at war when Chiara and a few of her friends, after attending Mass one day, began talking about bringing people together in peace and unity through a shared faith in Jesus Christ.
The birth of a child is usually considered a “blessed event” for parents, and so it was for Italian Catholics Domenico and Rosa Luciani Sulprizio on April 13, 1817 when a son, Nunzio, was born. It was roughly a week after Easter that year and Nunzio, who was named for his recently departed grandfather, was the bright spot in a year of widespread famine in his native Pescara, (Kingdom of the Two Sicilies), Italy. His devout parents had him baptized before sunset that same day. Three years later, they presented him to the bishop of the newly created Diocese of Sulmona for the Sacrament of Confirmation. Two months later, in mid-summer, his father died leaving a widow, Nunzio and a baby daughter Domenica. Sadly, Nunzio’s sister died five months later on Dec. 7, 1820.
The Greek philosopher Aristotle once wrote, “Good habits formed at youth make all the difference.” Ancient wisdom, eternal truth! I like to think that truth applies to the lives of young saints. It is certainly true of the life of Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, who was born and lived at the beginning of the 20th century. Rather than telling his story from birth, I’d like to start with his death.
“When I grow up and get out of school, I want to be ... a saint.” What? A saint? You don’t hear that too often, if at all. I mean, a pro-athlete, a firefighter or cop, a doctor, a lawyer, an engineer, a veterinarian, a scientist, a teacher ... yep, those are the most common responses to surveys posing that question to young people. But a saint? That doesn’t make the list. You know what? You can be any of those things and have any of those career goals ... and still be a saint.