In the front garden of the Gregori family home on the outskirts of Civitavecchia, a port city close to Rome, is a well-curated grotto containing a tiny, rusting statue of the Virgin Mary surrounded by plants and flowers. The figurine was bought from a souvenir shop at the Catholic pilgrimage site in Medjugorje, Bosnia.
In late April, as a group of pilgrims huddled around the grotto to pray, the statue purportedly exuded a scented oil. It was not the first time it was said to have sweated oil, but the moment, filmed by some of those present and shared on social media, reignited fascination in Italy over claims of the supernatural, pitting believers against naysayers. The story was all the more intriguing because the Gregoris were the protagonists of another mysterious weeping statue case in the mid-1990s.
Apparitions of the Virgin Mary and weeping statues have been part of Catholicism since time immemorial, but in May the Vatican announced it had tightened rules surrounding such phenomena in an attempt to crack down on potential scams and hoaxes, which are said to have proliferated in the age of social media. Only the pope has the final word on what is a supernatural event, not self-styled prophets or even local bishops, who until now had the power to endorse such occurrences.
“The paradox is that it’s the Catholic church itself that seems to top the list of non-believers,” said Vincenzo Pace, a professor of sociology of religion at the University of Padua. “If you consider the number of apparitions claimed to have happened since the 1800s, there have been more than 930 and only 15 have been recognised by the church. But then sometimes it makes an ambivalent compromise – for example, on the one hand it says these are not supernatural phenomena, but if people believe and the place becomes a site for popular devotion then why not.”
Civitavecchia became an unlikely pilgrimage hotspot in February 1995 after Jessica Gregori, then aged five, said she saw tears of blood streaming down the face of the family’s previous statue, which also originated from a Medjugorje souvenir shop and had been given to them by a priest who believed it had special powers. Known locally as La Madonnina, the statue allegedly wept blood on 13 more occasions. One of those who witnessed a weeping event was Girolamo Grillo, a bishop, who said the experience made him overcome his initial scepticism about the family’s claims.
Amid a lengthy police investigation, the statue underwent a Cat scan that showed no sign of its inside having been tampered with, while tests indicated that the stains came from male human blood. The male members of the Gregori family declined to take DNA tests, saying they would only oblige if Grillo told them to do so. Defying scientists, Grillo endorsed the theory that the tears must have been those of Christ, and so was granted permission from the Vatican to set up a commission, which concluded that it had no explanation for what had happened.
La Madonnina has since stood behind bulletproof glass in a shrine set up in St Agostino church, a short walk from the Gregoris’ home. In exchange, the family was given a replica blessed by Pope John Paul II.
The family built a wall around their home after being besieged by pilgrims and members of the media. The Guardian was granted rare access but the family refused to give an official interview, saying it “maintains silence in obedience with the church”.
Cicap, the Italian committee for the investigation of claims of the paranormal, is frequently called upon to examine cases of weeping statues and other strange phenomena in Italy.
“We have had statues crying, only to discover it was a pipe leaking from the ceiling,” said Luigi Garlaschelli, a chemist who has analysed dozens of cases for Cicap, including La Madonnina. “Another time the blood turned out to be melted glue. In Sardinia, a DNA test proved that a statue’s tears of blood belonged to the father of the family … so with Civitavecchia the question always asked is: why did they refuse to take DNA tests? Now we have a statue in the garden, among the plants, and they find perfumed droplets on it … who knows?”
The Vatican’s rule change is believed to have been prompted by the embarrassment caused by a woman nicknamed “the Saint” who lured hundreds of pilgrims to a lakeside town near Rome each month, saying the Virgin Mary made apparitions there and that her statue wept blood – claims dismissed by the local bishop in March as “bogus”. Many in search of a cure for serious illnesses attended the gatherings.
“What usually happens is that the person behind such claims becomes a guru,” said Massimo Polidoro, a psychologist who founded Cicap. “Something that links all these cases is that most of the time people genuinely believe something unusual is taking place and this happens not because there’s a true, unexplainable phenomenon but because they are emotionally involved and would like for it to be true.”
A local priest in Civitavecchia, who asked not to be named, said there had been attempts to silence him whenever he spoke about La Madonnina and her offspring. “I am a humble believer who believes in La Madonnina with the eyes of a child,” he said.
Unlike what happened in Lourdes in France or Fátima in Portugal, dreams that the shrine would usher in an economic boom in Civitavecchia failed to materialise. “I was hoping for a bit more business,” said Carlo, who has been selling souvenir Madonnas from a van outside the church since 1995. “I guess I wasn’t so blessed.”
