A Terrifying Vision and the Origin of a Prayer

Aurelio Porfiri

On October 13, 1884, Pope Leo XIII had just concluded Mass. While discussing some urgent matters for the Church with a few Cardinals near the altar, he had a mystical vision. Those around him saw him turn pale. After the vision, he confessed to his collaborators that he had experienced something terrifying. What had he seen?

“I saw demons and heard their whispers, their blasphemies, their denigrations. I heard the chilling voice of Satan challenging God, saying he could destroy the Church and bring the whole world to hell if he were given enough time and power. Satan asked God for permission to have 100 years to influence the world as never before" (source: Aleteia).

After this vision, which also involved the city of Rome, the Pope retreated to his study to write a prayer. He requested that this prayer be recited at the end of Mass as part of the so-called “Leonine prayers.” The text of this prayer is as follows:

"Sancte Míchæl Archángele, defénde nos in prælio, contra nequítiam et insídias diáboli esto præsídium. Imperet illi Deus, súpplices deprecámur: tuque, Prínceps militiæ cœléstis, Sátanam aliósque spíritus malígnos, qui ad perditiónem animárum pervagántur in mundo, divina virtúte, in inférnum detrúde."

Here is the translation:

“Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray: and do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, cast into Hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.”

Following the resolution of the conflict between Italy and the Vatican in 1929 with the “Lateran Pacts,” Pius XI asked that the prayer continue to be recited, but with the intention of the conversion of Russia. The prayer was later removed following the liturgical reforms after the Second Vatican Council. This directive was given in the Instruction Inter Oecumenici of September 26, 1964 (almost 80 years after Leo XIII’s vision), with a simple phrase stating, “the Leonine prayers are to be suppressed.” Thus, for the vast majority of Catholics, it was no longer obligatory to invoke Saint Michael the Archangel with this prayer. Leo XIII also composed an exorcism that included this passage:

“Very cunning enemies have laid their unholy hands upon all that the Church, the bride of the Lamb, holds most dear, and they have drenched her with bitterness. In the place where the Seat of the blessed Peter and the Chair of Truth was established for the light of the nations, they have set up the throne of abomination, of their impiety; so that by striking the shepherd, they may scatter the flock. Be present, therefore, O Michael the Archangel, invincible leader of the people of God, against the spiritual wickednesses which assail them and bring them victory! You whom the Holy Church venerates as her guardian and protector. You whom the Church glories in having as her defender against the criminal powers of the earth and of hell.”

It is not illogical that the devil would attack precisely where the heart of Christianity is found, which is certainly not only the Vatican, but all of Rome. How much pain our failures cause us, but also the failures of the clergy—clericalism, careerism, abuses. That is why, perhaps, we should return to reciting Leo XIII’s prayer both in and outside of the liturgy. After all, recent Popes have shown great regard for this prayer. Saint John Paul II, during the Regina Coeli on April 24, 1994, said:

“May prayer strengthen us for that spiritual battle of which the Letter to the Ephesians speaks: 'Draw your strength from the Lord and from his mighty power' (Eph 6:10). It is this same battle referred to in the Book of Revelation, bringing before our eyes the image of Saint Michael the Archangel (cf. Rev 12:7). The Pope Leo XIII certainly had this scene in mind when, at the end of the last century, he introduced throughout the Church a special prayer to Saint Michael: ‘Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle against the evils and snares of the devil; be our defense . . .’. Even though today this prayer is no longer recited at the end of the Eucharistic celebration, I invite everyone not to forget it, but to recite it, to obtain help in the battle against the forces of darkness and against the spirit of this world.”

Pope Francis also invited the faithful in 2018 to recite this prayer, together with the Sub Tuum Praesidium, at the end of the Rosary to implore protection over the Church.

A church very dear to me and my family is that of Santi Quaranta Martiri e San Pasquale Baylon, in the heart of Trastevere, a popular area of Rome. It was rebuilt in 1744 by the Discalced Friars Minor of the reform of Saint Peter of Alcantara (who still care for the church), as described by Mariano Vasi Romano in his Itinerario Istruttivo di Roma o sia Descrizione generale delle opere più insigni di pittura, scultura e architettura e di tutti i monumenti antichi, e moderni di quest’alma città, e parte delle sue adiacenze from 1794.

Now, in this small church, there are various things to notice, but one that I often reflect on is a painting by Luigi Tussi, also mentioned in the above book, a Genoese painter who was active in this church with other works as well. Why did this work strike me? In reality, it is for one particular detail. There is the Madonna with her hands joined, and at her feet, an angel who is piercing the infernal serpent with a lance, while the Madonna seems to be holding it down with her foot to help the angel in his task. Certainly, one could also say that the Madonna is directly crushing it, but I have always liked the image of her helping the angel fight evil. I believe the message in this case would be as follows: God helps those who help themselves (and also the Madonna). That is, heavenly assistance is certainly fundamental in cooperating for our good, but no less important is our own active and effective work.

In the word “contemplation” (contemplazione) is contained the word “action”, azione. Contemplating is, in any case, an actio, something we put into practice, just as for every operation in our life, we must actively cooperate in our sanctification. We know that we will fall many, too many times, that the will fails to stop certain errors, increasing our misery. Let us then remember the Madonna in this painting I mentioned, who, with her hands joined, and therefore in prayer, never ceases to intercede—and to act—for us.