A river used to separate the Conventual Templo de San Francisco from the colonial center of Puebla. The center was Spanish. On the church’s side lived the indigenous population. Today, that river is no longer visible. A multilane thoroughfare teems with buses and non-stop traffic. All manner of street entertainers and eager windshield washers wait at each intersection. The city’s modern convention center stands next door to the church while hotels, restaurants, and stores take space in reclaimed historic structures nearby.
The temple, dedicated to the Five Wounds of Saint Francis, stands at the spot where, in 1535, the Franciscan Friars Minor established their first home in Puebla. The church, expanded throughout the next three centuries, now thrills with a stunning churrigueresque facade. A stone tower perches over terra cotta and glorious yellow. It is, however, the pictures made up of Talavera tiles that most distinguish the outside and give the church its distinct poblano essence.
It is still a Franciscan parish where Mass is offered multiple times every day and cars are blessed each Sunday on the side street beside its plaza. It is home to a school, hosts multiple weddings, and is a stop on the tour buses. It remains active in its neighborhood and is woven into the history as well as the future of Mexico’s fourth largest city.
Every morning as Puebla city stirs to life, Mass-goers and children rushing to class stream across the former river. With them arrive the first pilgrims of the day, eager to witness a sign of great holiness that is housed in an elaborate chapel off the main church. This sacred space, rich with art and walls gilded gold, is a shrine to the man some called the “Angel of Mexico.” High on the altar wall is La Conquistadora, an image of the Virgin brought from Spain by Hernán Cortés. Beneath this stands an ornate glass and silver casket in which, 525 years after his death, the incorrupt body of Blessed Sebastian of Aparicio tilts his head toward the faithful who kneel to pray for his intercession.
Blessed Sebastian’s body is a sign of holiness visible to any with eyes to see. It is his incorruptibility that draws many to the site, eager to test the veracity of the claim. There is, however, much more to Sebastian than his body’s incorruptibility. He is a patron of travelers, drivers, and road builders with hundreds of miracles attributed to him in life and death. Perhaps even more significantly, he is a guide to us, inspiring visions of how our lives, no matter our age, can embrace change and serve God in unexpected ways. In his 98 years, Sebastian of Aparicio travelled and built many long and winding roads on his pilgrimage toward Christ.
Born in 1502 in Spain, Sebastian was from a poor farming family, and he grew up tending sheep. As a child he contracted bubonic plague, and his parents hid him in the woods for quarantine. Legend has it that the young child was healed by a she-wolf, who, finding the boy in his hiding place, sniffed his wounds and opened one with her teeth. The wolf ran away, and Sebastian immediately began to recover.
After deciding himself to live a life of chastity, Sebastian left his family home to raise funds for his sisters’ doweries. At the age of thirty-one, long after most people his age had settled down and started families, Sebastian set sail for Mexico—another turning point on his life’s journey. Landing in Veracruz, he made the arduous trip over the Sierra Madre Oriental, settling in Puebla and returning to farming. He got permission to capture wild horses and tame them, becoming one of Mexico’s first charros or “cowboys.”
Sebastian then recognized a significant problem facing the growth of Mexico and, despite his humble backgrund, felt the call to remedy it. Transportation was arduous in the colony and lack of roads hampered growth. Sebastian saw the need for highways to connect its far-flung cities and mining towns. Setting out on a new path for himself, Sebastian created a transportation infrastructure, building hundreds of miles of roads. In doing so, he grew close to the Indigenous communities through which his roads would pass, fostering relationships and building trust.
The culmination of Sebastian’s road building was the highway between Mexico City and the silver mining town of Zacatecas. Spanning over 400 miles and taking more than a decade to complete, the road was a testament to Sebastian’s perseverance and skill. His next turn in life saw him creating a transportation service of wagons that plied his roads from the silver towns to the capital. In doing so, Sebastian made a fortune and was able to purchase land near Zacatecas. It was, he thought, to be the last turning on his life’s journey. At the age of 50, when many of his contemporaries were looking to slow down, Sebastian started a new life as a rancher.
Again, he found success. The business skills that had guided his career in transportation helped make his ranch one of the most lucrative in the region. He possessed, according to local legend, unique abilities to work with animals and was able to get them to do his bidding. Sebastian, however, did not seek to merely enrich himself. He worked closely with indigenous farmers, sharing his expertise. He introduced new ways of farming such as the use of plows and wagons and the domestication of horses and oxen. So trusted was he by his Indigenous neighbors, Sebastian was often called on to settle disputes between the Mexicans and the colonial settlers.
At 60, when many men his age were welcoming grandchildren, Sebastian decided on yet another new road to take. He married for the first time, a “Josephite marriage.” It was a chaste union between himself and a young woman that would allow him to provide her a life of security and comfort. Unfortunately, this wife soon died. A few years later, he married a second time. This again was a union of chastity. When his second wife died, Sebastian felt a call to re-examine his life.
In one of the most dramatic turns of Sebastian’s voyage, he decided to give away all his earthly goods. At the age of 72, Blessed Sebastian became a Franciscan friar. Assigned first to a small friary near the city of Puebla, he served in a number of positions. After a year, Sebastian was transferred to the large friary in the city itself. There, the long and winding road of Sebastian’s life found its purpose. He was made alms-seeker and, for the next quarter of a century, traveled the roads of Puebla—many of which he had built himself—begging for his fellow friars, the reins of his ox cart in one hand and a rosary in the other.
As he made his way through the city and surrounding towns, he brought his holiness with him, encountering and helping all he met regardless of race. Sebastian was soon known as the “angel of Mexico.” Each night, this former wealthy rancher would sleep on the ground beneath his cart. Each morning, he would wake to beg for the Lord again.
At the age of 98, Sebastian fell sick. On the 20th of February of 1600, he returned to the friary in Puebla on the banks of Rio San Francisco. His fellow friars realized how sick Sebastian was and placed him in the infirmary. There, he slept in a bed for the first time in 25 years.
But his health quickly deteriorated. Soon, he could no longer swallow, denying him the ability to receive the Eucharist. Like St. Francis before him, Sebastian asked to meet death on the ground. His fellow friars lifted him from bed and placed him on the infirmary floor. Nearly a century old, shepherd, sailor, farmhand, cowboy, road builder, transportation magnate, rancher, teacher, benefactor, husband, friar, rich man, and beggar took the final turning on his earthly journey. Sebastian’s last word was “Jesus.”
Inside the chapel in present day Puebla, the walls are decorated with paintings that tell of the varied paths of Sebastian’s life. With its head turned to meet the gaze of those who seek the blessed friar’s intercession, the incorrupt body is at rest. But those who kneel by his side in the chapel can feel the story of a soul still moving, inspiring them to a life of holiness. Sebastian, the road builder, was a pilgrim along the varied paths of life, constantly in search of how to be of service to others. His story should incite us to embrace our own journeys and seek to give our best to God no matter our age or situation.
Images from Wikimedia Commons
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