0n September 27, 1696, Saint Alphonsus Liguori was born on the outskirts of the city of Naples, Italy. Two days later he was baptized in the parish church dedicated to Mary, the Mother of Jesus. Apparently, the baptism included Italian customs of that time; at the ceremony the saintly mother of Alphonsus gave her eldest child eight additional names. All were names of saints, carefully selected to be patrons and protectors of her newborn son. During his lifetime, however, Alphonsus used only one of these extra names regularly: Mary, the name of his heavenly "Mamma Maria:"

These pages contain a rich deposit of information and stories about the life and virtues of Alphonsus Mary Liguori. This article will specifically examine and explore Alphonsus ' unique and lifelong devotion to Mary.

Alphonsus, true to his Neapolitan heritage, tended also to be careful and cautious, even crafty, in planning his life. He could, however, change directions in an instant, especially if the new course led to a deeper spirituality, demanded greater efforts, and in some way involved his mother Mary. This trait perhaps explains a key incident in the early life of Alphonsus when he was a young lawyer trying cases in the courts of Naples. One day, after losing an important case in court, he entered a nearby church and dramatically renounced his profession and his family inheritance by laying his nobleman ' s sword at the foot of the statue of Our Lady of Mercy. His life would now be dedicated to the service of God and Mary. This incident was a major turning point in Alphonsus' life, and it helps us recognize the presence and impact of Mary in almost everything that happened to him throughout his long life.

This was Alphonsus' desire. He wanted Mary—after Jesus, of course—to be the primary factor in his life. From the day he solemnly pledged himself to serve God and his heavenly "mamma," he never wrote a single letter—his personal correspondence ran into the tens of thousands— without beginning or ending each letter with these words: "Long live Jesus and Mary."

Likewise, he never preached a single sermon—he gave thousands of mission sermons and homilies—without referring to Mary at the end of the talk. He never composed a single prayer— his books are filled with such prayers—that does not end with a profession of trust in Mary, a petition for her aid and protection, or both. A critic once complained that Alphonsus honored Mary too much. Alphonsus responded that this is impossible to do—Jesus himself honored Mary above all creatures, even above the angels in heaven.

The love Alphonsus had for Mary went beyond the printed page. It remained his strong, practical, and private passion. Nevertheless, Alphonsus was not reluctant to recommend his personal devotions to others. For example, he advised the members of his Institute and others who sought his guidance to pray the rosary every day (as he did), to visit a Marian shrine daily (as he tried to do), and to keep a statue or a painting of our Lady in their homes or near their beds (his favorite painting was that of Our Lady of Good Counsel). Alphonsus also encouraged others to fast on bread and water each Saturday— Mary's day—as he did, even in his final years.

Of course, a person as holy as he practiced other Marian devotions. Although he concentrated his prayer life on Jesus especially present in holy Eucharist, Alphonsus did not forget his heavenly mother. Each day he was careful to pray the Little Office of Our Lady in addition to the Breviary. His days were also dotted with frequent Ave Marias. He told one of his confreres that he tried to say this prayer every quarter-hour. In his travels, Alphonsus filled empty moments reciting the Litany of Loreto. And, of course, he never missed praying the Angelus morning, noon, and night.

Our Lady reciprocated in many ways. There are a number of verified incidents in the life of Alphonsus in which our Lady appeared to him, even conversed with him. Perhaps the most tender of these encounters took place in a cave at Scala, in the mountainous country near Naples. There the young Father Alphonsus spent days deep in prayer, pondering if he should attempt to found the new Institute that would eventually become the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer. Shortly before his death, in a rare moment of disclosure, Alphonsus alluded to the grotto at Scala and said to his confessor: "When I was young, I often spoke with the Virgin, who gave me advice on all the matters of the Congregation." Then, in the manner of an old man recalling pleasant memories, he smiled and repeated the words: "on all matters."

Another such incident happened early in Alphonsus ' life as a missionary. He and some companions were preaching a mission in southern Italy, in Foggia, a city of fifteen thousand inhabitants. His earliest biographer, Father Antonio Tannoia, describes what happened one evening as Alphonsus was preaching from the pulpit with a holy image of our Lady visible on the high altar. He preached "more like an angel than a man on the great glories of the Divine Mother when, all at once...the Virgin manifested herself to all present. Everyone saw a direct ray of light which crossed the church from Mary's face and struck Alphonsus ' face. At the same moment as if ravished, he was raised up above the pulpit....This favor was seen by more than four thousand souls."

Obviously, this was another extraordinary incident in the life of Alphonsus Mary Liguori. However, his career was marked more by agony than by ecstasy, more by suffering and misunderstanding than by triumph. This was especially true in the final years of his life spent at the Redemptorist monastery in the city of Pagani, in southern Italy. This monastery was one of the first established by Alphonsus as his Institute struggled to take root. It had been the scene of some of the first missionary successes and became the setting for his final struggles with life and the site of his long-awaited death.

The final four years of Alphonsus' life were neither pleasant nor pretty. His many physical ailments, especially his arthritis, caused him unusual discomfort. Eventually he became so disabled that, much to his displeasure, he had to be lifted in and out of bed and to and from his wheelchair. Due to the extreme curvature of his spine, his head was bent forward so much that his beard caused a permanent sore on his chest.

His spiritual afflictions were even worse. Even in his early life, Alphonsus had been scrupulous; now in his last years, his scruples became so intense and magnified that he often became extremely agitated, fearful that he had somehow displeased God. He often required strong assurances from his confessor and other sympathetic confreres that he was not in the state of sin but, on the contrary, remained God 's good servant.

In these painful circumstances, another technique often seemed to calm him: a reminder of Mary and her powerful protection. For his special prayer ti mes, his confreres always included the Litany of Our Lady, usually following the daily rosary. They also made sure that her picture was placed near his head. They read to him (usually from his own writings) about the greatness and glory of Mary and especially how, as heaven 's queen, she welcomed all her true and faithful servants at the hour of their death.

Early in the evening on July 31, 1787, Alphonsus made one final request. "Give me my Lady," he whispered. They placed a picture of Mary in his feeble hands. He smiled and kissed it. A short time later, while he still held the picture, his face became radiant. He spoke softly and smiled at the Virgin. It was their last earthly meeting.