St. John of God – The Champion of Charity by Benedict O’Grady, O.H.

Spain and France were at war and Emperor Charles V commanded his nobles to give him troops to fight the French in Navarre. The Count of Oropesa instructed Captain Ferruz to recruit his men. John Cidade was drafted into the army and marched north with the Oropesan regiment. The war in Navarre had already been in progress for two years and the tide of battle had turned in favor of the Spaniards who were driving the French back over the Pyrenees. The twenty years spent in the Christian environment of Mayoral’s home had protected Cidade, who, while not being overtly religious, was at least dutiful in fulfilling his religious obligations. Removed from this wholesome atmosphere his spiritual decline was rapid. Army life opened up an entirely new world of experience to John Cidade. At the moment the fruit of his newly-found freedom seemed sweet to him, but he was soon to discover how quickly it would turn bitter. In later life he would remember his military days with sorrow for the offences he committed against God. But for the moment, sinner he was, and small wonder when his companions were so morally lax.

Although Cidade had neglected his religious duties, he had not lost his faith. This seems to have undergone an eclipse at this time, but it is quite evident that it was not far away when danger presented itself. This danger came, not from the enemy, but from his own companions. A great deal of loot captured from the French was stored in a special compound. Cidade was assigned to guard-duty of the booty. Somehow, during the night the booty was stolen. Whatever the cause, asleep on duty or negligence, the guard was held responsible for the loss. The officer in charge was furious and sentenced the sentry to death there and then. As Cidade stood with the noose about his neck a higher ranking officer rode up and enquired into the matter. Sensing that an injustice had been perpetrated, he ordered the condemned sentry to be released and commuted the death sentence to instant dismissal from the army.

Chastened by his close encounter with death, John Cidade’s thoughts turned to happier days. Life at Oropesa did not seem so bad after all. There he had peace of mind and soul. There he had a family that loved him. In the army John had found disgrace. In his disgrace he had found peace once more with God. Returning to Oropesa, John was welcomed home by Mayoral and for a further eight years, resumed his work as a shepherd. We are now in the year 1532 and Cidade is thirty-eight years of age. Charles V. was about to set out on a crusade against the Turks who had invaded Europe as far as the gates of Vienna.

The question of marriage with Mayoral’s daughter was no longer an issue and John was free to do as he willed. The situation was far different since his sorry attempt at soldiering eight years previously. Again he enlisted in the regiment of the Count of Oropesa and went off to the war in Austria. The decisive battle which won victory for the Christian forces took place on 25th September, 1532. It lasted for only one day and the Turks were forced to withdraw from Europe utterly defeated. Charles V. reviewed his victorious troops in Vienna the following day. Among those on parade was John Cidade. The Oropesan regiment marched overland to Flanders and then took ship to La Coruna in the north-west of Spain. Here they were disbanded and John Cidade decided that he would not return to Oropesa but make a pilgrimage to the famous shrine of Santiago of Compostela.

At Compostela, John made his confession and received Holy Communion. He had reached a stage when his religion began to assume a larger dimension in his life. No longer would he take his faith for granted for he was beginning to realize that Christianity meant far more than simply calling oneself a Christian: it meant the actual following of Jesus Christ. This spiritual awakening resulted in an awareness and concern for others. He was beginning to show traits of that characteristic generosity which will develop and become more evident later on.
It was at Compostella that John decided to visit Montemor 0 Novo, the village of his birth. Leaving the shrine of Santiago, he followed the road through two-thirds of the Kingdom of Portugal and arrived at his destination in the middle of summer. During the journey he had plenty of time to contemplate what he had seen over the past year. He detested the horrors of war and the misery of the poor and sick people he encountered in the towns he had visited moved him as much as the victims of the war.

All these experiences were stirring his conscience and were enkindling that concern which would eventually become active when he would come to realize his vocation in life.
At Montemor 0 Novo he enquired about his parents. The only surviving member of his family .was an old uncle, Alphonsus Duarte, brother of John’s mother. The old man told John that soon after his disappearance from home as a child, his mother was overcome with a terrible depression and shortly died. After his wife’s death, Andrew Cidade went to Lisbon in search of his small son. He finally entered the Order of St. Francis as a lay brother and died a holy death. His parents’ tragedy haunted John for the rest of his days. In an agony of remorse he decided to spend his life doing penance for his sins.

John Cidade was still very restless. He left Portugal and went to Gibraltar. On the way, he stayed some time to help at a hostel for sick travelers at Ayamonte. If John had already expressed some sentiments of sympathy and compassion for the poor and sick, as indeed he did at Compostella and Ayamonte, such manifestations were simply the expression of a tender heart open to compassion. It was a natural compassion, yet to be fired and charged with the supernatural love which will result in his eventual vocation. At this time Cidade was confused. He sensed the sufferings of the underprivileged, yet did not know what he could do for them. He had still a long way to go to resolve his own personal problems before he would be in any position to help others.

In 1535, John Cidade crossed the narrow Strait of Gibraltar and disembarked at the fortified Portuguese town of Ceuta. Although Ceuta was a Portuguese colony, it had none of the attractions or glamour of Portugal’s other colonies in the Indies or Brazil. This North African outpost had nothing to attract the free settler. It was a fortress and base to protect the home waters. Because of its situation, Ceuta was a very convenient penal colony for the deportation of criminals. At Ceuta, John met an exiled Portuguese nobleman. This gentleman was sent into exile with his wife and four daughters by the king. This family was destitute and the father was too ill to work for his wife and daughters. John Cidade took pity on them and decided to support them. John took work as a laborer on the city’s fortifications. Conditions were terrible and the cruel overseers made little distinction between the freemen, convicts and slaves, who worked upon the moat and wall of Ceuta.

In 1538 John was overjoyed to see the exiled noble family pardoned by the king and return to their homeland. He also was only too happy to quit this terrible place and made directly for Gibraltar. Cidade was now forty-three, he was bearded and burned by the African sun. Tall and strong in physique he had nothing but his uncrushable energy to maintain himself. For a while he took work on the docks and various laboring jobs in the city and was able to accumulate a little money.

With the money he had earned as a laborer, John Cidade decided to go into business. This venture into the commercial world is rather surprising since he had no previous experience in buying or selling. More surprising still was the choice of merchandise he chose to sell, for he became a travelling vendor of books and stationery. After a period of about three months in which he hawked his wares about Gibraltar, John decided to set out for Granada where he arrived towards the end of 1538. There, in the rich and splendid city once ruled by the Moors, Cidade’s wanderings finally came to an end. In an alcove near the medieval city wall, he set up his humble stall that soon became the best known bookshop in Granada. Students, priests, nobles and merchants gathered there to listen to John’s tales of adventure, his war experiences and his wanderings. Business began to prosper and John Cidade was well on the way to becoming a substantial citizen. He was happy to be able to settle down at Granada and with a shop of his own, he enjoyed the security that his livelihood afforded him. Although his shop was small, it was well situated for business, being close to the busy Elvira Gate, the main entrance to Granada.

Early in January 1539, notices began to appear throughout the city advertising the popular feast-day of St. Sebastian to be celebrated on January 20th, in the Church of the Martyrs.
The preacher engaged to deliver the occasional sermon on St. Sebastian’s Day was Father John of Avila. Only thirty-nine years of age, this diocesan priest from Seville had already gained a wide reputation for preaching since embarking on a special mission to Andalusia nine years previously.

Discount any idea you may have of a hospital when you observe the type of institution that passed for that name in the 16th century. They were fearsome places with damp halls and dark cells, reeking institutions where the insane were herded to keep them away from society. They were usually endowed by kings, bishops, nobles or wealthy merchants and were regarded as charitable foundations for the destitute. The wealthy shunned them.

Upon being locked away in the insane section of the hospital, John Cidade found himself introduced to a nightmare’ world he had hitherto never imagined. During his many travels he had experienced the sight of the feeble minded and demented, even soldiers who had broken down in the face of battle; but this was nothing in comparison to the horrors he now experienced.
Here all sorts of mentally ill persons of both sexes were thrown together in utter squalor and neglect. Manic and violent cases were chained to rings set into the walls or to large stone blocks. Dank straw and fetid mattresses were the sleeping quarters for these unfortunates and the whole place reeked with the stench of putrefaction and excreta.
Those who admitted Cidade to the hospital requested that he be well treated. However, this request was not granted for he was subjected to especially cruel treatment. For the first three days he was left alone in a tiny cell. Finding two small sticks, John fashioned a crude cross and placed it upon the wall. He was entering his Gethsemane and prayed to God for the strength to endure his mental anguish with fortitude and courage.

In this terrible place, John Cidade sensed that God was about to reveal to him the vocation that had so long eluded him. Gone was the maniac behavior he had so recently demonstrated. He now found himself alone with his thoughts and his God, After three days Cidade was removed from his cell and given the standard treatment for the insane. He was stretched naked upon the floor and given blows from a knotted whip. This followed with freezing water showered upon him. He bravely bore this cruel treatment but was revolted by the sufferings of his fellow inmates.
The attendants who administered this treatment were really no more than keepers of the insane. They were often men of base character who cared very little for those whom they were supposed to care for. John saw this and pointed out to them that they were keener to administer this cruel treatment than perform the more obvious things such as cleaning and feeding the sick. He accused them of betraying the trust of the authorities and this only made them turn upon him with vehemence and hatred. But John would not be silenced and told them that “it would be better to have compassion on the sick in their trials. Clean them and feed them better and show them greater charity and love.” This reprimand only served to aggravate the guards further and they vented their spleen on John with renewed vigor.

John also reprimanded the attendants for their graft and mismanagement of public funds intended for the welfare of the inmates. In time John’s floggings ceased and he was given freedom to move at liberty within the confines of the hospital. This was precipitated by his remark to the attendants about the misappropriation of charitable funds. This severely jolted them for they were aware that Cidade was a friend of Fr. John of Avila and it was now quite clear that he was not as insane as they had presumed, but only too aware of what was going on about him.
From now on these bullies began to secretly fear this strange man who had dared to reprimand them. As a result of John’s initiative, the other patients began to receive better treatment and within a few months a transformation had taken place in the insane wards of the Royal Hospital. The sick were washed and the filthy communal beds cleansed. Some obstacles still remained in John’s way, but hope had been restored to many unfortunates in that frightening place, simply because one man really cared for their welfare.

The changes for the better did not go unnoticed by influential observers, who, to the embarrassment of the hospital’s directors, were also interested in John Cidade. These men were his friends, his former clients at the bookshop, who had admitted John to the hospital five months previously. They informed Father Avila of John’s progress who set the machinery in progress for his release.
In May 1539, John Cidade was released from the insane section of the Royal Hospital of Granada. It was in this depraved place that John finally discovered his true vocation to fight for the rights and dignity of the sick in both body and mind.

Bishop Ramirez was so impressed with the work of Christian love being performed by John Cidade at his house of hospitality, that he summoned him to the Chancellery in order to give public recognition to him. He told John that he should adopt a new name more in keeping with the life of charity he had embraced. The bishop knew his man well, he knew John as a man of God, a man totally dedicated and committed to the service of God and suffering humanity. He told John that he had chosen a name for him, a name that signified and summarized the highest human qualities he knew he possessed. He asked John Cidade to henceforth call himself John of God.

John did not suggest the name to the prelate, nor did he ever think of appropriating it for himself. John of God! The name came quite spontaneously to the bishop. Certainly it was an inspired name and one he had no hesitation in bestowing upon John.

Bishop Ramirez had given John a new name in keeping with his mode of life, a name that commanded dignity and respect. However, the bishop was disconcerted that John’s attire did not distinguish him from the ragged guests at his hospital. Consequently he gave him a distinguishing habit. This was not a religious habit, but a suit of unbleached woolen trousers with a long tunic that came to the knees and was tied about the waist with a chord.

It is important to note that this investiture and new name did not represent an initiation into any religious society, nor for that matter, the beginning of a new one. Neither the bishop nor John had the slightest intention of forming a new religious congregation. John took no vows and to the day he died remained a layman in the Church. Nevertheless, the Holy Spirit would soon inspire many generous men to follow John of God in his way of charity and these would soon form the religious family which would proudly bear the name of the Brothers of John of God.
All his life John had been a pilgrim in search of his true vocation, now, with this public approval by the bishop, he knew for certain that his calling in life was to serve the poor, sick and destitute. John of God had peace of mind and was happy in the certain knowledge that he was doing what God willed him to do. At last he had found the vocation that had eluded him for so many years.

Nobody was excluded from the charity of John of God. He rescued many women from a sinful life in the city’s houses of ill fame and gave them refuge at his house of hospitality at Lucena. In many cases he was successful in placing them in honest employment and was able to find husbands for others. Others to benefit from John of God’s Christian love were the orphans and abandoned children. He had a special love for the disturbed children and those with mental deficiency. All Granada was amazed at the way John of God’s house of hospitality actually ran itself. John’s generosity begot generosity in others and the guests helped each other. It was a truly therapeutic community in every sense of the meaning. But all of John’s time was not entirely absorbed in begging and performing the endless duties that called for his attention at Lucena. All this was the manifestation of his love of God finding its expression in the service of his neighbor. For John of God the neighbor was all humanity, but especially suffering humanity, so explicitly illustrated in the parable of the Good Samaritan.

John of God obtained the strength to carry out his charitable works by his intense life of prayer. Sometimes he would spend the entire night and before dawn would slip out to attend Mass at a nearby church. During the activities of the day, John was constantly aware of the presence of God in all he did. He implored God’s mercy and help in all his needs. Such abiding sorrow for sin and his intense spirit of prayer were the means of basing his spiritual life on a sound foundation.

Soon others came to John of God and sought admission to his company to live like him and serve the poor sick. The first two brothers to be welcomed by John of God were men very much like himself. Anthony Martin and Peter Velasco were both worldly young men and notorious sinners. Through the influence of John of God they saw the error of their ways and returned to God’s friendship. Simon of Avila was not a wealthy man, but like Martin and Velasco he too was a repentant sinner. A well-to-do Genoese merchant, Dominic Piola, also sought admittance into John’s community of brothers after the death of his wife. Another to join John’s company was a former hermit, John Garcia. Others came, and although they were not a religious congregation at this time, they all dressed in similar garb to John of God and were known as the Brothers of John of God. These companions of Brother John of God formed the nucleus of what will eventually become the Hospitaller Order.

By 1547, the little hospital at Lucena was so crowded that John had to find new quarters. A large villa was obtained in the Calle Gomelez at the foot of the Alhambra. Meanwhile, despite the gifts from benefactors, John’s debts were mounting and he was forced to borrow large sums of money, saying frankly to his creditors that “Jesus Christ is my only security”.
So great were John of God’s debts that he decided upon a bold plan to seek alms. In 1548, he set out for the royal court, then situated at Valladolid. The Regent, the future King Philip II and his two sisters received him and were generous in their help.

On his way to Valladolid, John founded another hospital at Toledo and arranged to have some brothers from Granada to go there to staff it. By the time he returned to Granada his health was fast failing under the constant toil, debts and the ignorant hostility of some of the “respectable” citizens who were suspicious of his work for the destitute. At this time the Royal Hospital of Granada caught fire. The hero of the day was Brother John of God, who ran into the blazing building and rescued most of the trapped inmates. Soon after the incident at the burning hospital, the River Genil which passes near Granada, burst its banks in flood. Brother John of God plunged into the freezing water in a vain attempt to rescue a drowning man. As a result of these heroic feats, his health completely collapsed.

It was obvious to the brothers that their Father John of God was dying. He was confined to his bed and in great pain. However, he still had to suffer the anguish of false testimony. Some of the “respectable” citizens of Granada had reported to the Archbishop that John was harboring malingerers and loose women at his hospital. With a tremendous effort he rose from his bed and had to be carried to the Archbishop’s residence. The slander was immediately disproven, but it was the final blow. A few days later Brother John of God collapsed and death seemed imminent.
The dying Brother was taken to the nearby home of a benefactress, dona Ana de los Pisa where the Archbishop and many nobles as well as the clergy of Granada and his own brothers kept constant vigil. Then an extraordinary thing happened. With a mighty effort he rose from his bed and knelt upon the floor clasping his crucifix in his hands. With all the voice he could muster, he said, “Jesus, Jesus into your hands I commend myself,” and so saying his soul left his body to take its flight to the God he so loved and faithfully served. Brother John of God came to Granada only twelve years prior to his death. He was then unknown, unloved. At his death the whole city mourned and his was one of the greatest funerals ever seen there. John once said, “Granada is my Cross”, but it also proved to be his glory. Today his remains are enshrined in the magnificent Basilica of St. John of God at Granada.

John of God’s life is an example of how a man can rise from mediocrity and sin to become a leader for Christ and a champion for the underprivileged. He overcame many difficulties, he suffered what we euphemistically call “a nervous breakdown”. He. underwent a genuine religious conversion, and from that day forward he discovered for the first time in his life, real happiness.
That happiness increased with his Christian maturity and communicated itself to those who became his followers.

Looking back over the last twelve years of John of God’s life and comparing them with the earlier years, it is not difficult to see why the Church declared him a saint.
Saints are certainly not sad people. On the contrary they are happy and their happiness stems from the presence of God permeating their entire beings. Such was the case with John of God who found true happiness in serving God by caring for the corporal and spiritual welfare of the downtrodden and neglected members of humanity.

Unlike the people of Granada, who already called John a saint from the day he died, the Church was more cautious in officially declaring him as such. Before the honor of sainthood was bestowed, a most careful scrutiny and judgment of John’s life had to be made. This was a long and drawn out procedure. At the conclusion of the first proceedings, Pope Urban VIII issued a bull of beatification on 21st September, 1630, declaring him Blessed John of God.

The happy day of canonization took place in St. Peter’s, Rome, on 16th October, 1690, when Pope Alexander VIII ratified that Saint John of God was a saint in heaven and worthy of public veneration.

In 1886, Pope Leo XIII proclaimed Saint John of God, together with St. Camillus de Lellis, to be co-patrons of the sick. Pius XI extended Saint John of God’s patronage to include nurses, nursing associations, hospitals and hospital auxiliaries.

Nihil Obstat: Bernard O’Connor, Diocesan Censor