Catholic Sainthood Sought for ‘Lily of the Mohawk’

For the Rev. John Peret, defining a miracle isn’t as easy as looking it up in the dictionary.

Peret specializes in investigating miracles, particularly miraculous healings. Six years ago, he took on the job of researching the claims of people who believe their prayers were answered by a 17th century Mohawk Indian woman who converted to Catholicism.

As vice postulator for the cause of Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha, Peret pores over medical records, interviews witnesses and investigates the circumstances surrounding alleged miracles, all in hopes of pinning down the one miracle that would make Blessed Kateri an official saint in the eyes of the Roman Catholic Church.

“All that’s left is one miracle,” Peret said. “An authenticated miracle.”

Authenticated is the key word.

Thousands of Catholics throughout North America have prayed to Blessed Kateri, asking her to intercede with God on their behalf. The back page of Kateri’s official newsletter, published by supporters of her shrine in upstate New York, is crowded with thank-you notices from the faithful who believe their prayers were answered.

Although such testaments are often compelling, they do not fit the mold for full-fledged miracles, Peret said. They are too easily explained as circumstance, luck or even simple perseverance. The Vatican’s standards are much higher.

“It’s hard these days to prove a miracle,” said Peret. “The process certainly errs on the side of caution.”

If a miracle can be attributed to her, and Pope John Paul II agrees to her canonization, Kateri Tekakwitha would be the second person born in what is now the United States to become a Roman Catholic saint.

Called the “Lily of the Mohawk” by her devotees, Kateri in 1676 became one of the first American Indians to be baptized by the Catholic Church and was the first to take a vow of perpetual chastity.

“She wanted to be a nun, but of course, at the time, that was unheard of--an Indian joining a European religious order,” said the Rev. Kevin Kenny, director of the National Shrine of Kateri Tekakwitha, located where her village once stood.

Kateri Tekakwitha was born in 1656 along the banks of the Mohawk River near the modern-day village of Auriesville, about 155 miles north of New York City.

She was baptized on Easter in 1676 and took the Catholic name of Catherine. It is believed that the water for her baptism was taken from the village spring, and many visitors to the shrine consider the water to be blessed.

*

In 1679, she pronounced a vow of perpetual chastity. She died April 17, 1680, at the age of 24.

Kateri was made venerable in 1943 by Pope Pius XII, the first of three steps in the consideration of sainthood. Pope John Paul II beatified her in 1980, the 300th anniversary of her death, as part of the church’s effort to promote local role models for Catholics around the world.

Kateri lived a life that serves as an example to other Catholics, Kenny said, and she has an established following as a patroness of peace and ecology. But the third requirement for sainthood--a miracle--has remained elusive.

Peret, based at the nearby National Shrine of North American Martyrs, has seen dozens of cases cross his desk in the six years since he was assigned by the Vatican as Kateri’s vice postulator, a post that requires him to be part skeptic when it comes to miracles and part advocate for Kateri’s sainthood.

All of the alleged miracles attributed to Kateri have been healings, Peret says. He talks to local physicians who saw the results, hoping they will write a statement saying that there was no known medical cause for what happened.

“That’s tough to do,” Peret said. “Many doctors don’t like to admit that they’re stumped. They’d rather continue studying it and try to come up with some medical explanation.”

There are other problems. Peret cites the case of a North Carolina boy who was blinded in one eye in an accident. During a Mass soon after his injury, a priest and two parishioners brought the boy to the front of the church and prayed to Kateri Tekakwitha.

At the end of the Mass, the boy told the priest that he could see out of his injured eye. But once Peret began investigating, the boy’s father refused to talk to doctors about authenticating the miracle.

“He didn’t want the publicity,” Peret said. “We’re still trying to get him to help us.”

If Peret finds a strong case in Kateri’s favor, he sends it to the Vatican, where the process starts all over again--and few cases are declared full-fledged miracles.

“Most never make it that far,” Peret said. “Those are the rules.”