Hold on to your Seatbelts!

During the Middle Ages, the veil between the material and the supernatural was tenuous, the supernatural an essential part of life. It was the Reformation that separated the two and caused a whole heap of problems that theologians tried to reconcile or obliterate.

 That Christ performed miracles was agreed by both  Catholics and Protestants, but beyond that a widening schism emerged. Protestants argued that Christ performed miracles to prove he was the Son of God, but after his Resurrection and the Redemption of mankind there was no further need for them. Miracles packed away. Job done. 

And yet, miracles kept breaking out of the box. How to explain their continued existence? The Devil’s work, Protestants argued, satanic delusions to lure the unwary. And the fact that miracles weren’t disowned by Catholicism was clear proof that Rome was the whore of Babylon, the Pope and his minions, agents of Satan.

The Church were acutely aware of the dilemna and desperate to distance themselves from frauds and charlatans, any possibility of devilry. In former times, it had been less questioning of the miraculous. In the C16th it necessarily became more critical, so much so that the Inquisition gave a hard time to those who claimed miraculous powers.

And yet miracles proliferated—especially levitation. Women were especially prone. Now they become air hostesses.

The French founder of the Poor Clares and patron saint of expectant mothers, Colette of Corbie 1381 - 1447 performed a number of miracles, levitation being just one of them. On one occasion Colette rose so high that for a moment she vanished from the sight of those watching.  There were levitators who glowed like candles. The Dominican friar, Peter Geremia of Palermo was noted for his miracles, levitating being the least of them. On one occasion, light brighter than any candle shone from cracks in the door of his cell. When his fellow friars broke in, they found him levitating and glowing in ecstatic abandon.

By the C16th, levitators were two a penny, including such luminaries as saints Francis Xavier, Ignatius Loyola, Peter of Alcantara, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross and Philip Neri to name just a handful. And levitation wasn’t restricted to saints. A conservative estimate of recorded levitations  during this period would be measured in hundreds. 

The most significant levitator is perhaps St Teresa of Avila. Her various levitations began in middle age and lasted only a few years; but what makes her significant is the fact they were witnessed by so many, sometimes having to be held down by  panicking nuns.  And they occurred  frequently, albeit  in a short period  of time. What makes her so noteworthy is that she was forced to give a detailed account of the experience by a sceptical Inquisition and so we have on record not just eyewitness accounts but a more intimate record—the internal experience of one who levitated in an ecstatic communion with God—until she begged Him to make it all stop—which he obligingly did.

Tomas de Villanueva 1488-1555 an Augustinian priest and councillor to the Emperor Charles V still holds the record by staying aloft for twelve hours during and after celebrating Mass. Pedro de Alcantara was seen soaring outdoors as high as a tree and on another occasion ‘flying ecstatically from a garden to a nearby church.’

St Philip Neri also levitated whilst saying Mass, sometimes as high as the ceiling and sometimes glowing in holy light. Every one of these examples were out doors and were witnessed by many and so hard to explain. Today holocaust deniers are rightly condemned. To deny levitation is more acceptable. We have a gift for denying what makes us uncomfortable or find hard to explain. In the next post, I’ll focus on perhaps the most spectacular of those ‘who flew’—St Joseph of Copertino.  Hold on to your seat belts.