Eloquent Preacher and Defender of the Poor

In general, Anthony’s words pierced the hearts of his hearers. What he cultivated by humility, silence, mortification, contemplation and prayer, he would communicate to his listeners. The educated admired the loftiness of his thoughts and the strong images with which he painted the most sublime mysteries. He added an unspeakable dignity to the most obvious and common truths of religion and morality, yet a natural simplicity rendered his preaching intelligible and easy to grasp. Even his rebuttals and his very reproofs against heresies were not bitter or severe but amiable and insinuating. The most obstinate heretics and the most hardened sinners threw themselves at his feet, declaring themselves conquered. Dissension and animosities were transformed into reconciliation.

In Padua, the poor were very many. The rich, on the other hand, were very few and they dominated every commercial activity. In his untiring work of peace, justice, reconciliation and respect for each person, in particular, the weakest, the unprotected and the exploited, he opposed the fashionable vices like usury. Usury was the ordinary form of taking advantage of the poor. It came to be done by unscrupulous persons, which Anthony called “ferocious beasts which rob and devour.”

The poor were defenseless and without any power; when they did not settle their debts, they were condemned to jail by law; therefore, in poor families, misery upon misery accumulated. Anthony found the law unjust. He rallied for a municipal ordinance abrogating the law. Padua relented and the written declaration recognized his intervention.

In Padua and the nearby neighborhood, there reigned Ezzelino, a cruel man, an enemy of God and of men. This person had challenged three popes (Gregory IX., Innocent IV., and Alexander IV). He put to death in one day 12,000 persons who revolted against him. Fearless, Anthony sought an audience with him. When Ezzelino found out that Anthony wanted to talk to him, he became troubled, but in the end, relented.

Anthony, upon entering the house, in a loud voice spoke thus: “Cruel tyrant, the enemy of God, till when will you continue to shed innocent blood? Know that the justice of God will come upon you soon. Change your life or you will be damned eternally!” Nobody had ever talked that way to the tyrant. Anthony enumerated his murders, sacrileges, and plunders which called to heaven for vengeance upon his head and that those whom he had slain or oppressed were witnesses before God against him.

The guards waited for the tyrant’s command against Anthony. But Ezzelino listened without reaction. Blinded by a light that burst forth from the face of the Saint, he bowed his forehead, afraid and silent. And to their great astonishment, he descended from his throne, pale and trembling, and putting his girdle round his neck for a halter, cast himself at the feet of Anthony, and in tears begged him to intercede with God for the pardon of his sins.

But after the death of the saint, he relapsed into his former disorders and died a miserable death. The extremely high ethical and mystical ideal that animated his pastoral ministry was, however, often in conflict with the harshness of the situation of sin and injustice that weighed on the family, social and political structures of the cities and countryside that he passed through.

Anthony never lost faith and he burned up his short existence for the renewal of the lives of the most alienated masses and the institutions contrary to the dignity and well-being of human beings. His commitment also shows through clearly in the series of miracles sent to the Pope for Anthony's canonization. Miracles which, above all, worked for the protection of the poor and the relief of the ill who had no human aid, and, in particular, for the safeguarding of the family, with great tenderness for children, comfort for wives mistreated and offended by brutal husbands, and support for family bonds in any kind of difficulty.

Anthony Gets Sick of Ergotism

Anthony became sick with ergotism, a disease now known as "Saint Anthony's Fire," and, in 1231, went to the woodland retreat at Camposampiero, a hermitage 20 miles from Padua. The ground was damp at that time of year and it aggravated Anthony’s illness. One day, while he was in the woods, he found a walnut tree. He asked for a treehouse on top. He could go there and immerse himself in a sea of quiet. The notice of the presence of Anthony in Camposampiero rapidly spread in all the surroundings.

Groups of friends and devotees were successful in reaching him. He would receive them smilingly, without giving any sign of impatience, and from the treetop, he has directed his words of exhortation: “Thanks, my brothers and sisters, for having come to visit me. Remember that earthly life is like a bridge, which is made for the crossing, not for stopping. I, also, am almost to the end, waiting for the Lord. Return home, with my blessing.”

The Last Hymn to Our Lady

Anthony was placed in a room, where he remained immobile, without words and with closed eyes. The confreres, sad, were waiting for the end. In one moment, Anthony opened his eyes, gathered energy, raised his arms, and, with a thin voice, intoned a hymn to the Blessed Mary: “O Glorious Virgin.” It was the prayer of the son who invoked the help of his mother at the hour of death. After this hymn, his face became shining; he raised his eyes fixed toward the heavens as if he was seeing something. A confrere asked him what he was watching; he replied: “I see my Lord!”

The friars decided to keep secret the news of his death as they transferred the remains to Padua. A little while after, all Padua got hold of the news. Groups of children, filled with interior inspiration, ran through the streets of the city shouting: “the Saint is dead! Friar Anthony is dead!” Anthony, like Jesus, had his preferences: they were the children. During his lifetime, when he passed through the streets of Padua, these stopped their games and ran to him. He would stop and relate to them.

Oftentimes he welcomed them lovingly in the friary, without showing signs of impatience. It would be the mothers and the fathers to bring them so that he might instruct them and bless them. For Francis of Assisi, it was the skylarks that notified the people of his death. For Anthony of Padua, it was the children to spread the news that their friend was dead: he has left them, to return to “his Lord!”