ONE OF THE MOST remarkable — and remarked upon — aspects of Pio’s canonization has been the short length of time between the priest’s death and his declared sainthood. The Vatican generally takes a long view of history, and it has not been unusual for at least 100 years to pass between a subject’s death and the discussion of his or her sainthood. St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, for instance, died in 1821 and was not even put up for canonization until 1940; she was finally declared a saint in 1975. But it took less then 34 years from the time of the Capuchin friar’s death in 1968, at age 81, to his being made a saint. In Vatican time, this is a speedier fast-tracking than the derailment of habeas corpus has received at the hands of John Ashcroft. Padre Pio’s accelerated path toward official holiness is even more remarkable given his history with the Vatican.

While the media coverage of Padre Pio’s canonization has been respectful, it did hint that Pio was an unusual candidate for sainthood. The New York Times coverage began with the ironic headline THE FRIAR, MIRACULOUSLY, MARCHES INTO SAINTHOOD and then noted with some delicacy that "in the past, Rome took a dim view" of Padre’s Pio’s life and reputation. Most other news reports noted that Pio, though popular, was controversial. This is, as one might expect when talking about a newly minted saint, putting it kindly.

The last 50 years of Pio’s life were fraught with scandal. He was accused of sexual impropriety, attacked for public episodes of rage aimed at penitents, and accused of accepting money in the confessional. His numerous critics — both within and outside the Church — claimed that Pio, far from being a saint, was nothing more than a self-serving monomaniac who shamelessly promoted himself as the center of a popular cult. The impetus of the cult was his claim to having been blessed with the stigmata — the bleeding wounds of Christ on the hands, feet, and side. The Vatican took these claims so seriously that it ordered a series of investigations into his behavior. Even the Capuchins had such serious qualms about their most famous member’s sanctity that they had his cell — and, many claim, his confessional — bugged. It was an ecclesiastical Watergate, and let’s face it: no one has been looking to canonize Richard Nixon lately. The general media presumption is that Pio’s rapid canonization occurred in spite of his checkered past. But that is too kind. It is far more likely that his swift and nimble ascent to sainthood occurred precisely because of his past.

Born Francesco Forgione in 1887 to poor peasants living in the rural Italian village of Pietrelcina, Pio grew up a delicate and devout child, with many health problems. At the age of 15, in 1902, he was accepted into the Capuchins — an independent branch of the Franciscans — and given the name Fra Pio (Brother Pius). From the beginning, Pio sought to express his devotion by becoming — in the words of Saint Theresa of Avila — "a victim of divine love." For Pio, this meant physical self-mortification. He would engage in extravagant fasting (once refusing all food but the Eucharist for three weeks); as a novice, he self-flagellated until he bled. Not surprisingly, he became so chronically ill that he had to leave the monastery for periods of time. He was well enough to be ordained in 1910, but soon began struggling with fairly extraordinary spiritual difficulties. He wrote to a friend that the devil — literally — came at night with "every sort of fantasy to tempt me into thoughts of [sexual] uncleanness," and he became increasingly ill. This illness, Pio’s lifelong friend Mercurio Scocca said, was brought on by sexual frustration. Later that year, Pio announced, "I do want to suffer, even to die of suffering, but all in secret," and in 1911 he received what he claimed to be early markings — technically called a "proto-stigmata" — of the wounds of Christ on his hands (the doctor attached to the monastery could not explain them). Over the next few years, Pio experienced trances during which he spoke to Mary and Jesus, as well as episodes of continued wrestling with the devil. In 1918 word circulated that Pio, who had already been gaining a public reputation for saintliness, had also been granted such spiritual gifts as the ability to read minds, speak to spirits, and bilocate, or exist in two places at the same time. Most spectacularly — and notoriously — rumor had it that he had been blessed with the full stigmata: bleeding wounds that shed up to a cup of blood a day, but which had the fragrance of flowers.

As Pio’s fame for holiness grew, so did criticism. From the 1920s onward, the Vatican was deluged with letters claiming that Pio was behaving inappropriately with women in the confessional and even that he brought women to his cell, where they stayed all night. Others accused Pio of "pomading his hair," perfuming his body, and even wearing makeup. Still more asserted that he accepted money in the confessional — a charge that Pio granted was true, but claimed that he passed the money on to more needy penitents. There was also the matter of his nearly uncontrollable and often inexplicable rage, which he would unleash at a moment’s notice on selected penitents and visitors. As early as 1922, the Vatican forbade him to hear the confessions of women, give blessings to people, or let the public know in advance when he would celebrate Mass. In 1923, he was forbidden to teach teenage boys in the school attached to the monastery because the Holy See considered him "a noxious Socrates, capable of perverting the fragile lives and souls of boys." But when the Vatican tried to transfer Pio to another monastery, the village in which he lived went into full revolt; the threat of a riot was so great that the national police force had to be called in.

More troubling to some people, though, was Pio’s intense relationship with Adelaide Pyle, an American soap-flake heiress, who became obsessed with the friar in 1924. She eventually joined the third order of Franciscans, built a house next door to Pio’s monastery to entertain luminaries who came to visit him, and gave much of her money to his charities. There were also disconcerting rumors of his fascist sympathies during World War II. The controversy continued, and as late as 1960 the newly elected Pope John XXIII launched yet another investigation into Pio’s life and practices. Not surprisingly, Pio was dismayed by many of the changes introduced by Vatican II and was even granted special permission to continue to say Mass in Latin.

Clearly, Pio was not a shoo-in for sainthood. Over the past 100 years, the Vatican has been very careful to disassociate itself from "miracles" (especially stigmata) that might be exposed as frauds. It has also been equally wary of popular cults over which it has little control. Therefore, it came very much as a surprise when the Capuchins submitted Pio’s name to the Vatican for beatification (the first step toward canonization) in 1969, just a year after his death. Its immediate acceptance came as an even greater surprise, since such proposals are usually not permitted until five years after the candidate’s death. In 1999, Pio was beatified — again, in a very short time — and after a brief trip to the altar, he became a full-fledged saint.