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Here's more on Padre Pio....
http://www.olrl.org/lives/padrepio.shtml
Here's what he thought of modern fashions.... http://www.olrl.org/misc/food.shtml#padre
Padre Pio on Women's Dress
from Prophet of the People, by Dorothy M. Gaudiose, pp. 191-2
Women received especially rough treatment from Padre Pio because of current fashions. He had always been a merciless enemy of feminine vanity. "Vanity," he said, "is the son of pride, and is even more malignant than its mother. Have you ever seen a field of ripe corn? Some ears are tall; others are bent to the ground. Try taking the tallest, the proudest ones, and you will see that they are empty; but it you take the smallest, the humblest ones, they are laden with seeds. From this you can see that vanity is empty."
Padre Pio wouldn't tolerate low-necked dresses or short, tight skirts, and he forbade his spiritual daughters to wear transparent stockings. Each year his severity increased. He stubbornly dismissed them from his confessional, even before they set foot inside, if he judged them to be improperly dressed. On some mornings he drove away one after another, until he ended up hearing very few confessions.
His brothers observed these drastic purges with a certain uneasiness and decided to fasten a sign on the church door: "By Padre Pio's explicit wish, women must enter his confessional wearing skirts at least eight inches below the knees. It is forbidden to borrow longer dresses in church and to wear them for the confessional."
The last warning was not without effect. There was a furtive exchange of skirts, blouses, and raincoats, that took place at the last moment in the half-lit church to remedy any failings.
The women made their adjustments, but perhaps not exactly enough. Padre Pio continued to send some away before giving them a chance to confess. He would glower at them, and grumble, "Go and get dressed." And sometimes he added, "Clowns!" He spared no one... persons he saw for the first time, or his long-time spiritual daughters. Often the skirts were decidedly many inches below the knees, but not sufficiently long for his moral severity.
As the years began to weigh on Padre Pio, his daily hours in the confessional were limited to four, equally divided between men and women. In addition to being dressed properly, they had to know the Italian language, even though he could somehow understand people speaking another language. But he knew Italian, Latin, and very little French, consistently refusing to hear confessions except in Italian or Latin.
Sometimes when Padre Pio refused to absolve his penitents and closed the small confessional door in their faces, the people would reproach him asking why he acted this way. "Don't you know," he asked, "what pain it costs me to shut the door on anyone? The Lord has forced me to do so. I do not call anyone, nor do I refuse anyone either. There is Someone else Who calls and refuses them. I am His useless tool."
Even the men had rules to follow. They were not permitted to enter the church with three-quarter length sleeves. Boys as well as men had to wear long trousers at church, if they didn't want to be shown out of the church, that is. But women in short skirts were his prime targets. Padre Pio's citadel was perhaps the only place in the world where the fashions of the 1930s still ruled in the 1960s
My favorite Saint.
Karol Wojtyla’s visit to Padre Pio
In the long-ago summer of 1947, Wojtyla had been a priest for less than a year. He was in Rome in the midst of a two-year study program, working on his first doctorate. Extremely interested in Carmelite spirituality and mysticism, he had chosen for his dissertation topic the mystical theology of Saint John of the Cross. It was in Rome that he first heard about another Catholic mystic, a Capuchin rather than a Carmelite, whose fame had not yet spread beyond the iron curtain into Poland. He was said to bear the wounds of Christ, the only priest ever to do so, and he lived only half-day’s journey by train and bus from Rome.
During a break in the school year, Wojtyla decided to visit this modern-day mystic, Padre Pio of Pietrelcina. He spent almost a week in San Giovanni Rotondo that summer, and was able to attend Padre Pio’s Mass and make his confession to the saint. Apparently, this was not just a casual encounter, and the two spoke together at length during Wojtyla’s stay. [9] Their conversations gave rise to rumors in later years, after the Polish prelate had been elevated to the Papacy, that Padre Pio had predicted he would become Pope. The story persists to the present day, even though on two occasions "Papa Wojtyla" has denied it. In 1984, the Capuchin Minister General, Bishop Flavio Carraro personally asked him about the prediction. Also Monsignor Riccardo Ruotolo, president of Pio’s hospital, The House for the Relief of Suffering, asked the same question of the Pope three years later. On both occasions the Holy Father emphatically denied that Padre Pio had made such a prophecy.
Back in Rome, the news reaching Bishop Wojtyla about the condition of his dear friend Wanda Poltawska continued to be ominous. A major operation to stem the growth in her intestine now loomed a few days hence. With no time to lose, he took pen in hand and hastily wrote a short, urgent letter to Padre Pio in Latin. The letter, written on the official stationery of the diocese of Krakow, was dated November 17, 1962. Brief and to the point, the Bishop pleaded:
Venerable Father, I ask for your prayers for a certain mother of four young girls, who lives in Krakow, Poland (during the last war she spent five years in a German concentration camp), and now her health and even her life are in great danger due to cancer. Pray that God, through the intercession of the Most Blessed Virgin, has mercy on her and her family. Most obligated in Christ, Karol Wojtyla.
Since it was essential that the letter arrive as soon as possible, Bishop Wojtyla, acting through intermediaries, enlisted the help of Angelo Battisti in order to have it hand-delivered to Padre Pio. Battisti’s positions at the Vatican Secretary of State and as the administrator for Pio’s hospital, guaranteed him virtually unlimited access to the saint at almost any hour. He was told that the letter was of utmost importance, and was asked to leave at once and deliver it personally to Pio. The hastily summoned messenger later remarked: "I had never received such an urgent assignment. I quickly went home to get my car, and departed immediately."
This One Cannot be Refused!
Battisti drove to the friary at San Giovanni Rotondo and headed straight for Padre Pio’s room. There he found the priest seated with his head bowed over his chest, engrossed in prayer. The messenger held out the envelope, explaining that it dealt with a pressing matter. Without moving, Pio simply replied, "Open it and read it." He listened in silence as Angelo Battisti read the letter, and remained silent for some time afterwards. Battisti was now surprised that this missive had to be urgently delivered; it seemed to be similar to the torrent of grave requests about life and death matters that daily reached Padre Pio, imploring his prayers. Finally, the Padre raised his head, and with a serious demeanor turned towards the messenger. "Angelo, to this one [questo] it is not possible to say no!" Then he bowed his head as before and resumed praying.
Battisti understood that by using the term "questo", a masculine pronoun, Pio was referring to the person (this one) who sent the letter. On the drive back to Rome, he thought about the many years he had known Padre Pio, and how every single word he wrote or spoke was carefully chosen and had a profound significance. He did not use the feminine "questa," which would have referred to the request or to the letter itself. No, it was "questo" – he who sent it – that could not be refused. But who was this Polish Bishop? Though Battisti worked at the Secretariat of State, he never heard of him. Nor, he found out when he arrived at the Vatican, had any of his colleagues ever heard of Bishop Wojtyla. Yet, why had Padre Pio considered him so important?
The operation to remove the tumor in Dr. Poltawska’s intestine was to take place on a Friday in late November, 1962. On Saturday, Bishop Wojtyla telephoned the sick woman’s husband Andrei to learn whether or not the tumor had been malignant. Andrei started to explain that the operation never took place because the doctors had found that there was nothing they could do. The Bishop immediately began to console his friend, believing that the cancer had been declared inoperable. Andrei interrupted: "Oh no, you do not understand...The doctors are confronted with a mystery... They could not find anything." The growth, which had been previously confirmed as present by the doctors, had now completely disappeared! For Bishop Wojtyla, only one explanation for this cure was possible – the prayers that Padre Pio had raised to heaven.
At the time, the Poltawskas knew nothing about their friend’s letter to the holy man of the Gargano, and they did not find out until later. In fact, the couple had never heard of Padre Pio, since Poland was still a closed-off Iron Curtain country, and there was little opportunity for them to learn about events in the free world. Thus, at first Wanda attributed the results to the one-in-twenty possibility that it was an inflammation which had healed on its own, and not a tumor at all.
Upon hearing the good news, Bishop Wojtyla composed a second letter to Padre Pio, this time thanking him for interceding before God for this mother of four children. In the letter dated November 28, again in Latin, he clearly attributes the doctors’ failure to find any diseased tissue to divine intervention.
Venerable Father, the woman living in Krakow, Poland, and mother of four children, on the twenty-first of November, prior to the surgical operation, was suddenly cured. Thanks be to God! And also to you venerable father, I offer the greatest possible gratitude in the name of the woman, of her husband, and all of her family. In Christ, Karol Wojtyla, Capitular Bishop of Krakow.
Once again the bishop’s letter was consigned to Angelo Battisti, with instructions from Vatican officials to immediately carry it to San Giovanni Rotondo. He departed at once, and upon reaching Our Lady of Grace Friary, the messenger approached Padre Pio in his cell. As before, Pio spoke the simple command: "Open it and read." This time Battisti himself was extremely curious, and upon reading aloud "the truly extraordinary and incredible news" he turned to Padre Pio in order to congratulate him. But the friar was immersed in prayer. "It seemed that he had not even heard my voice as I was reading the letter." The minutes passed by in silence, and finally the Padre asked Angelo to keep these letters from Bishop Wojtyla, because some day they would become very important.
Returning to Rome, Battisti secured the letters in a safe place, and as the years passed, he almost completely forgot about them. Then, after sixteen years, the evening of October 16, 1978 arrived. Gathered with the crowds in front of Saint Peter’s Basilica, he waited anxiously for the announcement of the name of the new pope. When he heard the words "Karol Wojtyla," Battisti was stunned. His first thoughts were of the words of Padre Pio from long ago, "Angelo, to this one it is not possible to say no!" – and then tears came to Battisti’s eyes.
