Odor of sanctity

"Dying in Odor of sanctity" means, in common language, dying with the reputation of a saint. This expression is not only an image, but a material as well as spiritual reality. It was a phenomenon that accompanied the death of Saint Teresa of Avila (1515-1582), and the life of the Blessed Alexandrina of Balazar (1904-1955), bedridden like Maria Valtorta. It was especially a phenomenon observed by the many pilgrims who visited Padre Pio. On this subject Ennemond Boniface writes: "Multitudes of people have sensed these astonishing perfumes, in the most diverse circumstances, and have attested to them. Sometimes these fragrant sensations seemed to come from Padre Pio’s stigmata or his garments, or even from objects he had touched and blessed. But it frequently happened that people in physical danger or moral difficulties sensed this mysterious perfume at enormous distances from the convent where Padre Pio was, either after invoking him mentally, or even without having thought of him, and in this case they invariably understood where these smells came from." This is what happened several times to Maria Valtorta. She did not have, - at least as far as is known -, this charism herself, but she experienced it many times.

The perfume of Heaven

Maria Valtorta experienced it so often that she ended up detecting its composition. Perhaps a reader, practitioner of perfumery, will one day comment on it.

The Notebooks of 1944, July 25

No dictation yesterday. It is rest for my poor shoulders, broken by all that I have written these last days. Nevertheless, the heavenly Confessors did not fail me.

First a great Peace, then the visible Presence of my friends from heaven and their caresses accompanied by this scent of roses — moreover perceptible to others — which sometimes is pure as if there were just-picked rose buds in the room, but which, at other times, seems accompanied by a slight smell of iodine and vinegar as if the roses were fading a little on their stems. This perfume comes slowly: at first it is only a subtle waft, then it asserts itself and intensifies in waves, sometimes very strong, other times less so. Finally, it dissipates as it came. Generally, it is a smell of roses. But sometimes it is complex as if gardenias, jasmine, violets, lily of the valley, lilies, and tuberoses were mingled in it. I never smell carnations, irises, daffodils, freesias, or other flowers. Only those I just named.

I think it is one of my "friends" who brings it, unless he accompanies Padre Pio's blessing. I do not know anything precise. I greet him each time by thanking him thus: "Whoever you are, thank you for your tangible Protection." For I feel protected when I am enveloped in these perfumes, even more than usual, as if I were in the arms of someone who loves me with the perfection of a saint.

Now, before writing what I just wrote, I took the Bible and opened it by chance. But it opened backwards. Think of it if it were mere chance! Once I turned it to the right side up, I saw: chapter 30 of Exodus: the altar of perfumes.

Jesus told me: "Leave it open there. This is today’s lesson. Begin by writing what concerns the perfumes I send to you, then I will speak to you about what I want you to send to me." I wrote and I wait.

Jesus says: "I tell every Soul who loves me: 'Make your Heart an altar on which your love is a perfume before my holiness.' But I give my Beloved a more specific command, because I want you perfect. I want it out of love, and I want it out of justice. Every gift demands reciprocity. Now I have given you beyond all measure. Therefore, you must give me beyond all measure. Understand, through the metaphor of the biblical altar, how I desire you to be."

Then Jesus comments, metaphorically, on the dispositions of the Soul's "altar." That of Padre Pio, Maria Valtorta, and so many other mystics without doubt.

Gift conferred by divine Grace for the common good.